Rush Hour
"No, No, No...there is no direct flight to Newark, bombay is flooded saar" moaned the travel desk lady thrusting on me an itinerary which had stops in almost every continent possible. For someone who has hardly been out of bangalore, i thought it was great idea to see four places in one day. My friend, who was to travel along, was insistent on getting a different itinerary which would bypass chicago for us. I was ok with going to chicago, since i had never been there before. Though i thought my friend was wrong to miss such an opportunity to see chicago, it was me who got laughed at more when i told my friends about the journey. Pradeep was kind enough to say "Sareeg Goobey kudsidaale travel navalu" (The travel lady has made a moron out of you).
After some frenzied packing the next day, the weighing machine read 18.5 kg, leading the shop keeper to comment "Saar neeevu kuthkondu hogbodu suitcase nalli, yaaru hidiyolla" (Guess you can sit in the suitcase and it still wont cross the max luggage limit). I thought "Smartie, hold your words, i am going to the YOU-YES-AYE" :D...
apart from the short tours i took to Mangalore and Bombay, leaving Bangalore was seldom in my list of to-do things.
After getting a whole lot of advice from people about New Jersey( in a few cases, some had not even been to US actually), and one big round of "ashirvaada" ceremony, our gang was off to the airport.
"Tidong ting.....Bangalore - Delhi flight is now Boarding" screamed the lady through the public address system, while i was still hysterically waving at anyone i could see through the glass. I got into the plane and sat down gingerly next to the window seat.... the pilot announced a series of stuff that i hardly understood. After taxiing down the runway, the plane turned around like a raging bull, the engine in full throttle the beast sped fast, and in a split second my stomach gave a huge groan and i knew i was in air.
"The plane would reach a maximum height of 33000 feet", the pilot announced. The farthest i had been suspended in air, before this flight, was probably 6 feet during a failed high jump attempt which saw me bang into the side pole, mid-air, on my school sports day.
Reaching Delhi airport was one thing, catching the next flight was another. As soon as we got down the plane, we were frisked into a Box-like Bus, and were dropped off near the entrance of what looked like a dilapidated horse stable. My friend travelling along signalled me to a place where the baggages happily stay put on the carousel. After eagerly waiting for about 5 minutes, i finally saw mine arrive. Not accustomed to pulling the luggage off the conveyor, i knocked down a lady, standing beside me, with my huge suitcase. Aunty went hurtling down, but not before she picked up hers too. She stood up in haste, not remembering whether it was me who knocked her off or she herself in her hurry to pick up her luggage. After apologising to her, and later howling in laughter, i finally hopped into a bus that would drive us to the international airport.
Delhi Airport is madness.
As we entered the airport complex, boards on the wall read "You can enter any gate and then check-in to the respective airlines". Meanwhile an elderly man came to me and asked in hindi "bhai saab, singapoor ko kaha se jana hai ?" (where should we enter to go to singapore ?)... Notorious for my "good" hindi speaking skills, i started stitching together each and every word to make sense of the sentence that it formed. I blurted out "appko kahi se bhi aayiye, aur undar aake search kijiye" ( It meant "Come from anywhere, but search inside"...trying to literally translate the sign on the wall). The old man was as blank as he was before asking me the question. I pointed towards the sign and moved on.
We had to board the alitalia flight, and made towards their counter to get the boarding pass...I was carrying a backpack and a small cabin baggage.
The airline lady, trying to act important, started asking questions
"Do you want to carry two baggages ?"
I said "yes, both put together weighs less than 6kgs, 2 less than acceptable weight"
Lady : "No, No, we cannot allow two baggages inside the plane"
Me: "??....but why ? it is not crossing the limit !"
Lady:"No not possible, airline rules !" (I knew she made this up, runtime)
Me:"Okay, if that is the case, i'll put this backpack inside my other cabin baggage" (and gave her a mocking laugh)
flustered, the lady shouted: "ok ok, you can take both !"
she didnt give up though, and continued.
Lady:"Why US ?"
Me:"to work!"
Lady: "Why are you travelling to the US with a H1-b ?"
Me: "?????...to work ?" i answered tentatively, thinking it was a trick question...
Lady:"Are you planning to come back ?"
no my company is deporting me, very meek chance of me coming back, actually!
Me:"yes in 2 months time"
Lady:"what are you going to do there?"
Me:"create a web-based application"
I thought this was my chance to give back in kind.
Lady:"!!....what work, i meant !"
Me:"!!....software ?"
Lady:"ok!"
After the harrassment, i moved fast, cleared the immigration faster, but not before a punjabi granny with her grandson came to me asking something in punjabi. I gave a blank look, and she thought i had not heard what she said, and shouted again in her ear-piercing voice. In broken hindi i blurted out "muje maaloom nahi hai". Praying "rabb mujhe ..." she went to an unsuspecting italian in the queue, and asked him the same question. The little hindi that italian must have learnt was by now washed down the drain, pink-faced he blurted "eenglish eenglish"....the lady continued chanting "rabb mujhe..." dragging her bellowing grandson and magically making it ahead of all of us, passing the immigration.
Boarding the plane a few minutes later, i sat down on my seat.
"Rabb mujhe....", the sound wafted in the plane....i turned around sharply, and there the elderly lady sat with her groaning grandson on her lap, right behind my seat ! For the rest of my flight, she wouldn't let me move my seat an inch towards her, since her grandson was on her lap !
The groaning grandson, i could partly make out, hated it going in the plane as much as he hated being with his granny, for he kept hooting and moaning like a wolf all through the journey. Added to this, one of the airline staff, a big hulk with a bald head, came in with a color pencil to pacify the boy. The kid freaked out on seeing him, and almost jumped out of the window. granny comforted "uncle hey beta uncle"(raakshas nahi).... and then started "Rabb mujhe......."....i had almost conditioned myself to hearing it... "All passengers can now.....Rabb Mujhe......remove their seat belts" announced the air-hostess, amidst her chanting....all through the journey "Rabb Mujhe...." had become my wake up call for lunch, dinner and breakfast.
10 hours into the flight, i woke up again to the chanting to land in 10 minutes. At the security check, people were moving out of the metal detector like zombies with their hand held high up and straight, while the security lady was shouting "Hands Up", "hands Up".....i had put in my luggage into the x-ray scanning machine, and walked through the metal detector. The machine gave a loud beep, and the lady barked "shoe REMOVE" in thick italian accent....i removed the shoes and entered again....it beeped again loud and clear..."belt REMOVE"...."watch REMOVE"....."glass REMOVE"...."REMOVE, REMOVE, REMOVE"...shouting hoarse like a roadside thief... every time i had to re-enter that damn entrance...each time removing something !...finally the detector let me through...having already wasted a lot of time, i decided to go to the restroom before boarding the plane to Chicago, but the only restroom in the whole airport had a long queue that would have put the kerosene queue in bommanahalli to shame.
"Here or in the plane, what difference !" i thought, settling down before boarding the plane in half an hour. "Rabb mujhe....." had taken another flight, so i breathed easy and slept well for another 10 hour flight to chicago. An otherwise uneventful flight this one, marred by a few ramblings by the guys in the front seat pestering the air hostess for vodka, or the red faced airline guy with a ponch coming in to serve irate passengers while shouting "giving giving, wait wait"... finally the plane landed in 10 hours at the Chicago International Airport.
Chicago airport is huge, and understandably well maintained. We had to pass through immigration, check-out our baggage, and check-in again in order to take a domestic flight to Newark. dragging the luggage, sapped out and tired, we lost ourselves again in the airport. I made a quick enquiry to a lady official standing nearby.
Me: "where do we go to take continental ?"
lady : "First floor, take a right, Train at terminal 2"
Stunned i re-checked my ticket to see if that travel lady back home had given us a train ticket to Newark instead of an air ticket ! luckily it said "air ticket", or alteast looked like one.
Me:" I need to take a flight from here, not the train !"
stiffling her laugh, she gained her composure back
Lady:" you'll need to take a train within the complex to reach the domestic airport, Sir."
The way she ran in the opposite direction, i could make out she was trying hard to control laughing on my face.
After some intense searching, we finally boarded the plane again, and after another 2 hours of travel the plane touched down at the Newark airport, ending my long journey of 4 flights, 3 check-ins, and almost 36 hours in travel time.
Wide roads, Big Cars, no noise....Welcome to the USA.
After some frenzied packing the next day, the weighing machine read 18.5 kg, leading the shop keeper to comment "Saar neeevu kuthkondu hogbodu suitcase nalli, yaaru hidiyolla" (Guess you can sit in the suitcase and it still wont cross the max luggage limit). I thought "Smartie, hold your words, i am going to the YOU-YES-AYE" :D...
apart from the short tours i took to Mangalore and Bombay, leaving Bangalore was seldom in my list of to-do things.
After getting a whole lot of advice from people about New Jersey( in a few cases, some had not even been to US actually), and one big round of "ashirvaada" ceremony, our gang was off to the airport.
"Tidong ting.....Bangalore - Delhi flight is now Boarding" screamed the lady through the public address system, while i was still hysterically waving at anyone i could see through the glass. I got into the plane and sat down gingerly next to the window seat.... the pilot announced a series of stuff that i hardly understood. After taxiing down the runway, the plane turned around like a raging bull, the engine in full throttle the beast sped fast, and in a split second my stomach gave a huge groan and i knew i was in air.
"The plane would reach a maximum height of 33000 feet", the pilot announced. The farthest i had been suspended in air, before this flight, was probably 6 feet during a failed high jump attempt which saw me bang into the side pole, mid-air, on my school sports day.
Reaching Delhi airport was one thing, catching the next flight was another. As soon as we got down the plane, we were frisked into a Box-like Bus, and were dropped off near the entrance of what looked like a dilapidated horse stable. My friend travelling along signalled me to a place where the baggages happily stay put on the carousel. After eagerly waiting for about 5 minutes, i finally saw mine arrive. Not accustomed to pulling the luggage off the conveyor, i knocked down a lady, standing beside me, with my huge suitcase. Aunty went hurtling down, but not before she picked up hers too. She stood up in haste, not remembering whether it was me who knocked her off or she herself in her hurry to pick up her luggage. After apologising to her, and later howling in laughter, i finally hopped into a bus that would drive us to the international airport.
Delhi Airport is madness.
As we entered the airport complex, boards on the wall read "You can enter any gate and then check-in to the respective airlines". Meanwhile an elderly man came to me and asked in hindi "bhai saab, singapoor ko kaha se jana hai ?" (where should we enter to go to singapore ?)... Notorious for my "good" hindi speaking skills, i started stitching together each and every word to make sense of the sentence that it formed. I blurted out "appko kahi se bhi aayiye, aur undar aake search kijiye" ( It meant "Come from anywhere, but search inside"...trying to literally translate the sign on the wall). The old man was as blank as he was before asking me the question. I pointed towards the sign and moved on.
We had to board the alitalia flight, and made towards their counter to get the boarding pass...I was carrying a backpack and a small cabin baggage.
The airline lady, trying to act important, started asking questions
"Do you want to carry two baggages ?"
I said "yes, both put together weighs less than 6kgs, 2 less than acceptable weight"
Lady : "No, No, we cannot allow two baggages inside the plane"
Me: "??....but why ? it is not crossing the limit !"
Lady:"No not possible, airline rules !" (I knew she made this up, runtime)
Me:"Okay, if that is the case, i'll put this backpack inside my other cabin baggage" (and gave her a mocking laugh)
flustered, the lady shouted: "ok ok, you can take both !"
she didnt give up though, and continued.
Lady:"Why US ?"
Me:"to work!"
Lady: "Why are you travelling to the US with a H1-b ?"
Me: "?????...to work ?" i answered tentatively, thinking it was a trick question...
Lady:"Are you planning to come back ?"
no my company is deporting me, very meek chance of me coming back, actually!
Me:"yes in 2 months time"
Lady:"what are you going to do there?"
Me:"create a web-based application"
I thought this was my chance to give back in kind.
Lady:"!!....what work, i meant !"
Me:"!!....software ?"
Lady:"ok!"
After the harrassment, i moved fast, cleared the immigration faster, but not before a punjabi granny with her grandson came to me asking something in punjabi. I gave a blank look, and she thought i had not heard what she said, and shouted again in her ear-piercing voice. In broken hindi i blurted out "muje maaloom nahi hai". Praying "rabb mujhe ..." she went to an unsuspecting italian in the queue, and asked him the same question. The little hindi that italian must have learnt was by now washed down the drain, pink-faced he blurted "eenglish eenglish"....the lady continued chanting "rabb mujhe..." dragging her bellowing grandson and magically making it ahead of all of us, passing the immigration.
Boarding the plane a few minutes later, i sat down on my seat.
"Rabb mujhe....", the sound wafted in the plane....i turned around sharply, and there the elderly lady sat with her groaning grandson on her lap, right behind my seat ! For the rest of my flight, she wouldn't let me move my seat an inch towards her, since her grandson was on her lap !
The groaning grandson, i could partly make out, hated it going in the plane as much as he hated being with his granny, for he kept hooting and moaning like a wolf all through the journey. Added to this, one of the airline staff, a big hulk with a bald head, came in with a color pencil to pacify the boy. The kid freaked out on seeing him, and almost jumped out of the window. granny comforted "uncle hey beta uncle"(raakshas nahi).... and then started "Rabb mujhe......."....i had almost conditioned myself to hearing it... "All passengers can now.....Rabb Mujhe......remove their seat belts" announced the air-hostess, amidst her chanting....all through the journey "Rabb Mujhe...." had become my wake up call for lunch, dinner and breakfast.
10 hours into the flight, i woke up again to the chanting to land in 10 minutes. At the security check, people were moving out of the metal detector like zombies with their hand held high up and straight, while the security lady was shouting "Hands Up", "hands Up".....i had put in my luggage into the x-ray scanning machine, and walked through the metal detector. The machine gave a loud beep, and the lady barked "shoe REMOVE" in thick italian accent....i removed the shoes and entered again....it beeped again loud and clear..."belt REMOVE"...."watch REMOVE"....."glass REMOVE"...."REMOVE, REMOVE, REMOVE"...shouting hoarse like a roadside thief... every time i had to re-enter that damn entrance...each time removing something !...finally the detector let me through...having already wasted a lot of time, i decided to go to the restroom before boarding the plane to Chicago, but the only restroom in the whole airport had a long queue that would have put the kerosene queue in bommanahalli to shame.
"Here or in the plane, what difference !" i thought, settling down before boarding the plane in half an hour. "Rabb mujhe....." had taken another flight, so i breathed easy and slept well for another 10 hour flight to chicago. An otherwise uneventful flight this one, marred by a few ramblings by the guys in the front seat pestering the air hostess for vodka, or the red faced airline guy with a ponch coming in to serve irate passengers while shouting "giving giving, wait wait"... finally the plane landed in 10 hours at the Chicago International Airport.
Chicago airport is huge, and understandably well maintained. We had to pass through immigration, check-out our baggage, and check-in again in order to take a domestic flight to Newark. dragging the luggage, sapped out and tired, we lost ourselves again in the airport. I made a quick enquiry to a lady official standing nearby.
Me: "where do we go to take continental ?"
lady : "First floor, take a right, Train at terminal 2"
Stunned i re-checked my ticket to see if that travel lady back home had given us a train ticket to Newark instead of an air ticket ! luckily it said "air ticket", or alteast looked like one.
Me:" I need to take a flight from here, not the train !"
stiffling her laugh, she gained her composure back
Lady:" you'll need to take a train within the complex to reach the domestic airport, Sir."
The way she ran in the opposite direction, i could make out she was trying hard to control laughing on my face.
After some intense searching, we finally boarded the plane again, and after another 2 hours of travel the plane touched down at the Newark airport, ending my long journey of 4 flights, 3 check-ins, and almost 36 hours in travel time.
Wide roads, Big Cars, no noise....Welcome to the USA.
posted by Jagadish at 4:09 AM
31 Comments:
another juggi classic :))..
level maga neenu..
moms.. nin NJ number kodo ..or mail to the group.. will call you up..
nandu.. 651-785-8075
neat account dude !
altho i felt it lacked some touch of yours ...
yenlaa!! conscious aag bittideeya? yellaroo nan blog odthaare ... i shud write decently antha yella?
chatri nan magne ... i can see thru you dude ! :))
-
Hey you! I quite like your narrative, so I find I keep coming back every once in a way to check your posts. I assume it's not a friends-only. BTW, I'm Deepa, and I was the one who forgot to sign off the anonymous post I left last time! not that it matters really... Have fun in the YOU-YES-YAY! :)
akku: :D..thanks lo ;)...iga sadhyake hotel nalli idini, will mail my number soon....ninge call maadthini weekend.
Pothnis: chatri pothnis how did you know man !....howdu swalpa light aagi conscious aagbittidini ;)..
hi Deepa,
Good to know you. Great you liked it and thanks for the wishes :).
Resembles much of what Vinay Pothnis and others experienced during their travel. Good post. I expected comments on food (As you are veggie and I dont know how did you manage)
When I came here, It was a different experience. I met Mr. Vyas Narang (He has that name his passport). He is divorcee, twice, and works in Manhattan, NY as a government official. He was telling me his stories of how women used him to get "Green Card". It was interesting enough for make me feel sleepy and poor guy didnt realise and by the time he did I was awake and we were about to land in Paris. He trusted me so much that he left his entire passport wallet and his small bag filled with cash and credit cards for more than half an hour. Then we took different flights. I did check his contents as I wasnt sure what I was carrying. I was strictly instructed not to carry anyone's bag or package. I told him this and he was quite comfortable and gave me his number and address. I didnt bother to call him later, but this would be in my book as part of first flight experience outside India.
Hey, check this out, it totally cracked me up!! :) -Deepa
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/8726160/site/newsweek/
Hi, you are nice creative writer. Like Deepa, I hit on your link every now and then. Love it.
Good luck for your stay in the US of A.
~Savitha
Suneel : Food was not an issue in my case, since italian airlines serve decent veggie food. In fact, on the flight from Delhi to Milan, they served Dosa for Breakfast :). Continental airlines was bad though, went hungry since they do not serve veggie food, apparantly.
Deepa: The article was good :), quite scary, though i must say i am too lazy to do stuff like hard-disk backup, address book update etc, nor is there any buzzing sound behind my comp :D. The blogging part is true for me though ;).
Hi Savitha,
Thanks for the wishes. Great to know that you like my posts. Good to know you.
hey Jagadish...
I am Thejas....Supreeth's friend....
Great blog!!!
First time entry into the USA carries a charisma of its own... have blogged about it five months back when I came to Minneapolis...
well, do chronicle all the first experiences which are gonna shock you in comparision to our country, and gives a lot of fodder for an artist of your likes....
with warm regards,
Teju
Rubb Mujhe ?
She sure sounds like a horny granny
/Kiran
Hi Thejas,
nice meeting you. You are right, for a first timer it is surely a big shocker, the place. im compiling a few exprience here, will post as i finish :). I read your post on "Hair Cut", was cool :)
Lo kiran, "Rubb" alvo ! "Rabb" adu...i think it means "God"...
whooops...haha sorry abt that ..realise that you are trying to keep ur blog clean so will stop it here..
.guess...my hindi is more broken than yours ;-)
/Kiran
:D...yeah as clean and clear as a crystal ;)
Lo maga...sakkath aag bariddeeya..:-)
-bods.
thanks buddy :-)
Hey Jagadish,
I finally read it :) I read a few more after reading this one :)
great humor; I actually found myself laughing aloud sitting here in office :0 You better fix my laptop...
Vinay: thanks boda :D... may be i'll forgive you now.... after the scare u gave me with that call from the embassy ;)
thanks :)...laptop ? what laptop ?...hmmmm...err...ok :D
So McDonalds fries (notwithstanding that they maybe using beef tallow) and Haagen Daaz zindaabad? :) - Deepa
right now it's just ready-to-eat MTR stuff for me :)...haven't been to McDonalds here yet...cooking rice at home was a disaster, so settled for chapathi :D
check out wheat flour tortillas buddy....they resemble chapathis ... don't use microwave to heat them (they will stink)... use the tava ;-)
Oh cool! Well stocked travellers we are :) You also get stuff like chopped veggies that are packed, which you can just toss in the pan in Albertsons etc. Scour the supermarkets. There's probably nothing you can't find!
Wait till I come there... I will make sure you learn some good cooking and also we will try and find some indian grocery store near your house.
S.
Thejas: yes, i use a non-stick pan to heat chapathis, so im saved :)..
Deepa: hey what is haagen daas ? never heard of it...will look for it though...as for the chopped veggies, i found them in a place called "subzi mandi".... life's a lot simpler now ;)
S: i already know how to cook man !, as in cooking rice i meant :).
Haagen Daaz is this a veggie icecream store (yeah, even I went huh?!), and if I remember right they have this oreo chip icecream (or brownie icecream or something) anyway all yummy! memory fails as I visited 5 years ago when I was young and impressionable hehe!! So you cook rice hmmm...talented :)
Neat account.. pen more juggi-shtyle stories :)
-Sree
maga... awesome neenu!!! seroisly kano publish maado ninn stories na...
great going dude... continue pls....
Post a Comment
<< Home