Flight to Chennai, India, 29 June 2008

It’s been awhile since I’ve been this far outside my comfort zone. I woke up this morning at 4:45 for a 5:45 pickup to the airport. They were late, but I made it on time. I managed to check my bags straight through to Chennai (Madras) on Thai and got my boarding pass for both flights even though I am on 2 separate itineraries.

They warned me about the heat (no big deal for me), they warned me about the pollution (a bit worried about asthma), they warned me about the dirt (I’ve travelled to third world countries before, I can handle it) what they didn’t warn me about was the body odour. OMG, it’s overwhelming among men! Now, I like a musky smell, but this is never used deodorant kind of a smell. I noticed it as soon as I got to the gate for my flight to Chennai. I managed to sit away from the most flagrant offenders and boarded without problem.

Then I looked around. I saw exactly 3 white faces. Wow, I hadn’t expected this.

The guy that I sat next to barely spoke English but I did find out that this was his first airplane flight (or more probably the return to his first one since he was definitely Indian and not Thai). I had the window seat but he kept craning his neck to see outside. I finally asked him if he’d like to switch and I got the first of what I’m certain will be many head bobs over the next month. If you’re not familiar with the head bob, it’s a particularly Indian tradition where their heads look a bit like those old bobble dolls that people used to have. Not yes, not no. I’m really not sure it has a meaning. I’m yet to find out. Anyway, I took this particular bob to be a yes and switched.

He was determined to milk the free food and drink available on an international flight to the max ordering first a beer and wine together and then at last count two additional beers and a wine. He also asked for another dinner (which he didn’t get).

The food wasn’t bad. I had veggie curry, just spicy enough. The roti was good until it turned cold, then not so much.

We landed in Chennai and whoa! There are armed security guards with machine guns at every entrance (not sure what that’s about yet) and they checked our boarding pass as we were LEAVING the jet way. I’m not sure what they were checking for. You obviously had to have your boarding pass to get on the plane and I didn’t see anyway someone could get on the jet way other than from the plane sooo...

The lines at passport control were outrageously long and slow. The gentleman in front of me asked if I was a foreigner (ya think?) and told me I could go to the line without any queue. Okay....off I went like a wide eyed foreigner only to be met by a stern looking man asking me what I was doing here; he explained to me that this wasn’t a queue. I said innocently, “but sir, the gentleman in line told me to step out and come here.” He laughed (I would have too) but a kindly older gentleman took pity on me (older men have always loved me, you would think that my appeal would diminish as I myself approach 50 but it still seems to be working for me). He asked to see my passport, which I handed to the younger man that stopped me. The younger man looked at it, laughed again and said, “New Zealand”. I don’t know if he was laughing at the country, at the fact that I certainly don’t sound like a Kiwi, or at the fact that I was trying to pull one over. Whatever it was I didn’t care because by this time the older man was motioning me forward. He checked my documentation, gave me a quick smile and threw my passport back at me (to save face with the younger guys?)

I’m quickly realising that India is not a country for those of us with weak bladders who have to constantly pee. As soon as I got off the plane, and before the passport control incident, I headed straight to the bathroom. There were two stall; one marked EWC and one marked IWC. Whatever could that mean? Then I saw the one marked IWC open and quickly figured it out seeing nothing inside but a hole in the ground. Ahhh, Indian Water Closet. I’d run into the hole in the ground scenario in a much cleaner airport bathroom in Singapore and declined to use it, I certainly was not going to use this much dirtier one...I opted to wait until the European Water Closet door swung open. Then there was the problem of what to do about my hand luggage. After several attempts to wedge them in with me a lovely lady took pity on me and offered to watch it outside. Relying on the kindness of strangers and the fact she had an innocent looking face I left her with my roller bag and backpack containing my American passport, all of my itineraries, my one paper ticket (one of the last to be issued, I should scrapbook it), all of my jewelry and all of my worldly documents which I am carrying around the world with me so that I can establish my identity as soon as I arrive in Sydney in August. The quickest pee I could muster (never figured out how to flush the damn toilet, even tried to throw a bucked of water in it from the big tub next to it) and I was out the door. Relief (in more ways than one), the kind lady and my bags were still there. I’ve resolved not to drink water again until I get to Bangalore when my driver can watch my bags for me.

My bags came off the carousel without a hitch and I was off to find the domestic terminal (customs didn’t even X ray my bags). I’m traveling with a gazillion vitamins which I am taking in lieu of the shots recommended (I’m of the no vaccination persuasion) and I keep expecting to get stopped for drug trafficking, but so far no one’s batted an eye lash.

I still haven’t been able to get any rupees as the only ATM I’ve found requires going up steps...and now I have all 4 bags I’m traveling with. That’s okay, the only thing I’d buy is water and I’m not going there!!!

After passing through two security checkpoints to get to the domestic terminal, re-arranging my luggage so that my roller bag weighs less than 7 kg and pre-screening my check in I stood in line for 15 minutes at the Jet Airways counter only to be told that it was too early to check into my 5:10 flight...it was only 1:45. I was told the luggage would get mixed up...that doesn’t sound good. Okay, so I sit here in what can only be described as the grungiest airport terminal I’ve ever been in on a seat covered in filth waiting for 3PM. Waiting for what? I’m sure to sit in an equally filthy chair on the other side of security. I’m so going to need a shower when I get to Mysore!