I started for India on January 7, 2015 from Denver International Airport. Actually I started more than a year ago when I applied for the Fulbright Awards in Teaching. I screamed when I got the acceptance email and I screamed when I got to DIA: I had forgotten my passport.
After Superhusband Rob raced home to get it I set out for a 5:40 flight to London's Heathrow International Airport. The flight is about eight and a half hours--time to fill watching 22 Jump Street, chatting with a seat mate on her way to Uganda, and napping.
When we arrived at Heathrow, the sun was up and it was morning on January 8. The airport is recently remodeled so it was easy to stroll around, take the connecting train, people watch, try to connect to wifi, and meet Ginea, my partner for the next three months. Notice the child's zipped riding/pull bag (I want one.)
When we took off four hours later, we were bound for India! Most of the passengers seemed to be returning home; I sat between a traditional woman with a bindi whose daughter attends school in Boston and young woman who is on her way home to Hyderabad after studying in the US.
Not only were the passengers dressed differently, the food was too. It was served hot in foil wrapped tins with separate compartments for rice, beans, a spicy sauce, a salty pickled something and a sweet caramel dessert. Babies cried and no one cared, old ladies in saris made their way slowly to the loo with the help of middle-aged women in saris, and except for couples, women were seated next to women and men next to men.
After Superhusband Rob raced home to get it I set out for a 5:40 flight to London's Heathrow International Airport. The flight is about eight and a half hours--time to fill watching 22 Jump Street, chatting with a seat mate on her way to Uganda, and napping.
When we arrived at Heathrow, the sun was up and it was morning on January 8. The airport is recently remodeled so it was easy to stroll around, take the connecting train, people watch, try to connect to wifi, and meet Ginea, my partner for the next three months. Notice the child's zipped riding/pull bag (I want one.)
When we took off four hours later, we were bound for India! Most of the passengers seemed to be returning home; I sat between a traditional woman with a bindi whose daughter attends school in Boston and young woman who is on her way home to Hyderabad after studying in the US.
Not only were the passengers dressed differently, the food was too. It was served hot in foil wrapped tins with separate compartments for rice, beans, a spicy sauce, a salty pickled something and a sweet caramel dessert. Babies cried and no one cared, old ladies in saris made their way slowly to the loo with the help of middle-aged women in saris, and except for couples, women were seated next to women and men next to men.
The plane landed in India eight and a half hours later at four in the morning. Our driver picked us up and loaded our bags in the taxi. Passage to India complete . . . or just beginning?
Seems like the time it to took for you to be accepted to be able to go to India seemed like an adventure itself, forgetting your passport.
ReplyDeletewow it very good to be accepted and to experience such an adventure but traveling all those hours must be hard I also know the feeling of being in an airplane for 8 hours and more.
ReplyDeleteI like the way you tell your experience. It seems like as soon as you were in the plane you could see you were heading to a country, different than the USA.
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