Return

I made it back. So did my luggage. Only one bag was delayed one day. That, in comparison to what I dealt with when arriving in India, is amazing. : ) I have completely taken over the Dornbrook's attic. I have stuff everywhere and there is no place to put it! That is the task for today and tomorrow. It will take two days. But, back to flying. To begin with, I pulled a 24 hour day in India. I had a 3 am flight to Bombay and then a 7 am to Frankfurt. I stayed up until I was on my Frankfurt flight and that was painful, to say the least. Once I was in my seat, I put in my earplugs, slipped on my sleep mask (I bought it specifically for this reason) and went to bed as the Indian sun was rising. I woke up here and there, but managed to keep sleeping right until we landed in Frankfurt. Thankfully, I was able to get off of the plane there and walk around/go to the bathroom/wash my face and brush my teeth. While in the airport, I was confronted with an enormous stand of good chocolate from all over Europe. Of course, I bought a few things there (thank goodness for credit cards), one of which was a small container of HagenDaas ice cream. Strawberries and Cream. It was amazing, and that's what I had for breakfast. As I was enjoying it, waiting in line to check in with our gate, I thought: now this is the way to travel. So, I forced myself awake through the Frankfurt to Chicago run. While in Chicago, I was confronted with people, in public (!), who were wearing shorts and tight pants and tank tops. The indecency of it all. I saw so much flesh and curves and bodies. It took some time for me to remind myself that this is OK and normal and part of the culture that I've been in my whole life. I'm still not used to seeing shorts in public, but I'd imagine that I'll get there eventually. Back to Chicago. Oh, and a bottle of water cost $2.66. This is not a large bottle, either. I've been buying entire litres of water for less than a quarter. I could barely believe it. Although, my initial reaction was to assume that I was getting the "white girl's price" (bad idea in O'Hare) and so I almost started to bargain with the woman selling the water. I opened my mouth and stopped myself, laughed, said, "No, thank you," and walked away. When on the Cleveland-bound plane (finally!), as we were taxiing out of our gate, the captain informs us that he is doing a new fuel saving maneuver and shutting down the engines. Because we can't leave yet due to weather over the lake and we'll need to sit in the runway. Yeah. For 90 minutes. Yeah. That's as long as the entire flight. In our hot, sweaty, sticky plane, I sat, cranky. It didn't take long for me to head to the back of the plane to ask for some water. The girl at the front of the plane, if not expressing our sentiments, perfectly expressed our mood as she whined and cried: "But I don't want to fly; I don't wanna go; Moooom! I don't wanna!" She probably wailed for 45 minutes of our wait, and I laughed because of her for most of it. It was just too appropriate. Throughout my stay in India, it would be at these moments that I would mentally listen for an orchestra cue, and I would sing to myself, often out loud: "These are a few of my favorite things..." The Sound of Music had an unusual niche in my experiences in India. Indians loved it, it was in The God of Small Things, Kevin and Gina sang in incessantly for about a week, and it generally came up at unusual moments, like when Sudharshan started playing it on his sitar during one of my lessons. I sang it whenever I was without toilet paper, power, clean clothes, food, anything. I did this at least daily, especially at the end of my trip. It kept me smiling. Back to plot: I got into Cleveland finally, found Mendon : ) and dropped my carry-ons off at the car, so we could carry my suitcase and sitar without that extra hassle, assuming they arrived. My sitar did, my luggage didn't, we tried to file a claim, after dropping the sitar off, and realized that we didn't have any of my baggage claim info (it's in my checked bags). So, we got that, realized that we had two slips and no way to distinguish between which had arrived and which was lost, sent Mendon to the car for my sitar's tag, and finally filed a claim. In spite of all of this, I was still ridiculously happy. I was home, with Mendon, almost asleep, and ONLY one bag was lost! Although, let me be honest for a minute. My flight was challenging because I managed to pick up a less-than-fun bacteria/parasite/bug right at the end of my stay in India. I'm still struggling with it, but it's managable now that I'm here. I can stay hydrated easily, I have loving support and sympathy from Mendon and co., and I have a nice, clean, US bathroom, with things like soap and toilet paper.

What else? The last day of India, I was taken out to lunch by the family of a co-worker of my uncle. There should actually be an "in-law" somewhere in that mess. We went to an Indian version of a country club and had an Indian version of Chinese food. After that, we went shopping for a bit, where I bought them a small candle arrangement, because one must buy gifts for people in India, all the time, for all occassions. They, although I didn't know it, bought me a necklace (garnet), a skirt, a shirt, and a purse/wall hanging/I'm not sure what it is. Welcome to India. They also gave me a gift to give to my Uncle Frank. I'm sorry, Uncle Frank, if you're silently reading my blog, I'm going to ruin your surprise. They bought, amongh other things, a big elephant that is probably 4x6x3.5. This sounds small, but remember, I only have one suitcase (which is Mendon's blue and black one; not huge) and it was already stuffed full and packed. So, now, in addition to needing to find a place in the suitcase for my gifts, I also had to find a place for the gifts for my Uncle, one of which was a large, solid wood elephant. I managed. It's here. I even have the gift bag that they sent with it.