Today is a fly day. As I write this, I’m sitting in the Delhi airport. This is my first time through the Delhi airport, but it seems more modern than Hyderabad Ghandi airport. Still, it’s pretty confusing. There are very few signs telling you where to go or what to do. Coming from Germany where there’s a sign for everything clearly outlining where to go, what to do and when. The stores are shiny on the jetway, the floors are clean and people seem more diverse, but it’s still confusing as heck.
I started my day yesterday on and overnight flight from Frankfurt. My rowmates on the flight, Yogi and Virginia from Italy, were friendly and fun. We made instant friends. Yogi and Virginia are musicians who are about to embark on a 5 month music study from a folk music master here in India. They are also planning on playing some gigs. Yogi plays wood flutes made by his friend and teacher in India. Virginia plays the silver flute. They were cute together. I asked them if the two of them were married and Yogi said no and Virginia said yes. I said something like, “Well, you know, it’s usually one or the other.” Virginia explained that it’s easier to just say they’re married. It eliminates a lot of questions. They’ve been together for about 5 years. Later when they were watching a movie, they synchronized the seat back TV screens so they could both watch the same movie at the same time. They were arguing about how to do it like two married people and I told them so. They agreed. “Yes, we’re married” they both said.
India is a confusing place. I got off the airplane and the signs tell you where to go to get your baggage fine, but not how to navigate the international arrivals to the domestic desk. So, I ended up walking around asking people where to go for the domestic Air India desk. My answer was, go up to the second floor and go to the Air India desk. My ticket was a paperless ticket. Usually not a problem, but in this case, to get up to the second floor by the escalator, I had to have a ticket. This I found out after the security officer let me pass with no problem only to later call after me and tell me I couldn’t go to the second floor that way. The problem was, there was no down escalator. So, I had to walk down the up escalator. That was tricky with a full backpack, but I managed. Then, I took the elevator, and managed to find the Air India desk, but they couldn’t find my ticket. I was supposed to fly to Mumbai and then to Hyderabad. I made the mistake of forgetting to print out my India flight information, so what normally would have been a minor error turned out to be a major faux pas. It took three office people and about 45 minutes for them to find my flight… But, they actually changed my flight to a direct flight to Hyderabad! It get’s me into Hyderabad 3 hours later, but I don’t have a layover. Woot! Not sure how that all happened, but I’ve learned not to question, just follow directions as odd as they may seem and you’re going to be OK. So, they give me a printout with my flight information. I go to enter the waiting area and for the fifth time, the security guy checks my passport and now my boarding information. He asks me if I smoke. Odd question I thought, but, no I don’t. Another security guard walks up right then and the two of them have a discussion in, I think, Hindi. Then the second security guard asks me do I smoke. No, I don’t. OK, well, “You can’t come back out here if you go in” he says to me. I say OK, and they let me in. Sometimes people in India are so helpful they sort of get in the way.
There are lines at the Air India desk in the waiting area, so I thought, I’ll save some time and go to the kiosk. Bad idea. I printed out the boarding pass. That went great, so I’m thinking, cool, I’m sailing through now. I get through the line for security and the security guard says, “You need stamp”. “What? What stamp?” He says more articulated this time “You need stamp.” and then someone in the line adds, “From airline, you need stamp from airline”. Now I’m confused. I can get my boarding pass from the kiosk, but I have to go through the regular airline desk line to get a stamp? OK, so back to the airline desk. I wait in line, get a new boarding pass printed out, but no stamp. I ask about a stamp and the lady at the desk sort of looks confused. I don’t know if it’s because of my bad English accent or because she doesn’t know what stamp I’m talking about. I decide to give it a shot and try security again. Well, I didn’t get a stamp but I get through to the scanner section of security OK.
There’s a security guard there that frisks me and runs a metal detector wand over me. He’s pretty handsy but stays away from the privates. Then, after he’s all done, he puts his hand on my rib cage and says, almost admiringly, “Good body”. All I can do is chuckle. I think he meant it sincerely, but I’m thinking “Dude, I’m glad you like it but please don’t touch my stuff.”
I’m through security and now I can settle down in those really comfy airport chairs and wait for 4 hours for my flight to Hyderabad. I’m really wiped out but loving it. I love traveling. There’s something really exciting about deciphering the indiscernible from the confusing in the process of getting to the unknown destination in an unplanned and surprising way while carrying everything I need on my back. Sort of like hiking with the boy scouts… Only, without the frisking.
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