The Flight

Traveling back to India is expensive, time consuming, and exhausting both emotionally and physically. Certainly the long-haul jets nowadays, have decent legroom, a great selection of movies, decent food, and an attentive staff. But there's jet lag, boredom(SFO-HKG takes 14 hours), and a massive cultural gap. I first have to adjust to being back in India, and now I am having a hard time adjusting back to America.

This trip was essential, because my brother and father just built a new home and our entire extended family will attend the "grah pravesh", a ceremony blessing the house. This will allow an opportunity for me, my wife, and child to see everyone. Since such occasions come about rarely, I planned on all three of us going. It also helps that the celebration occurred a week before Diwali, a major Indian holiday, and I felt it important that I spend Diwali with my whole family in the new house. The last Diwali I attended was over seventeen years ago, in fact the last major Indian holiday I attended was over seventeen years ago.

Buying tickets to India, is its own cultural subsytem. If you ever buy a ticket to India on travelocity, you will pay big bucks. Buy the same trip through an Indian travel agent (i.e. a travel agent located in America, but generally of Indian ethnicity, and one whose primary business is selling tickets to India), and you will pay at least $1000 less. The secret I am told is that these agents buy seats in wholesale and then retail them to the travelers at a marginal profit.

I googled the web and found an agent with good reviews. He sold me tickets on Cathay Pacific, a Hong Kong airline for $1200 roundtrip, San Francisco to New Delhi, taxes included. I preferred Cathay Pacific because it has only one stopover/aircraft change in Hong Kong. Unfortunately, on the outgoing trip, I learned that Cathay Pacific did not have this flight on the day I was traveling. So I had to switch to Indian Airlines from Bangkok.

Switching airlines mid-way on International routes is a major no-no. If one airline screws up, and you miss the connecting flight on another airline, chances are it'd be your monetary loss, not to mention the hassles of hanging out at an International airport until the next flight. All that didn't occur to me until I was well in the air, and short of flying with an elevated blood pressure, I had little recourse.

Cathay Pacific is well organized, and their aircraft was spotless, had good legroom, and easily on par with the best airlines I have flown with. My 4-year old son was flying with a fever and was on antibiotics to treat a throat strep infection. The attendants were nice enough to offer us the needed refrigeration for the antibiotic.

The San Francisco airport charges $3 for a cart. In all our flight segments, this is the only International airport that charges for carts. Our flight was departing past midnight and once we passed the security checkpoint, all the restaurants or snack bars were closed. Thankfully the flight left on time and we were able to snack on the aircraft. The passengers were a mix of Indians and other Asians with a sprinkling of Caucasians. Several of the Asians were American and it is apparent from their accent. This flight which takes 14 hours is the hardest segment, but somehow between a long nap, movies, and waiting in line for the bathroom, we made it to Hong Kong.

The Hong Kong airport is immense and has great facilities. The massive transit area has free carts and they have a lounge where a range of services including food, showers, a chair massage, and lazy boys are available for a fee. In our short stay here, we got showers and had food for about US $40 for the two adults and the kid.

The flight to Bangkok from Hong Kong was short and I was preoccupied imagining the horror scenarios of connecting through to Indian Airlines. The only excitement on this trip was when one of the overhead bins fell open and a heavy briefcase nearly creamed the passenger underneath. Why the manufacturer designed these bins that rotate all the way through such that the lid holds the weight is beyond me, but clearly it's just waiting for a lawsuit to happen. For the remainder of all the flights, I added a couple more points to my blood pressure, by keeping a wary eye on overhead bins.

The arrival lounge at Bangkok International Airport, is dingy and suddenly makes you aware that you are now in a developing country. I could feel the heat in the jetway. By this time my kid was certainly tired and ready for his next night's sleep. Thankfully we brought a stroller and that freed us from having to carry him.

I found a sign directing us to Indian Airlines and we starting walking down this endless hallway towards it. After walking for several minutes, I stopped to double check directions and this is when I found that the flight number on my ticket and my itinerary was different and so was the departure time. Learning this in-between flights was enough to make me sweat profusely, and being in a warm airport didn't help. The Thai airport personnel were genial and very nice (as opposed to those in Malaysia, more on that for another time), but the best they could do was to guide us to more walking.

It's then that I found a reassuring sight, a trio of older Indians casually walking the hallway. They first helped by pointing me towards the Indian Airlines counter and then in customary Indian pessimism recounted their horror stories with the airline.

Shortly thereafter we found the Indian Airlines counter with a broken glass sign. The entire setting was dingy, but thankfully there was a bookshop, a restaurant, AND a decidedly shabby massage parlor right next to it. So while my kid feasted on Pringle's (US $4 for a small box), I tried to find out how to get to New Delhi from Bangkok. The ticket agent, a young thai woman was helpful, and in addition to the boarding passes, she informed that our flight will leave no more than an hour late. She also solved the mystery of the different flight numbers and times. The flight number had changed between the time I got the itinerary and the tickets were issued.

Indian Airlines still operates by word of mouth. That is the ticket agent talked to some manager who told her when the flight will leave. There was no automated information about where the aircraft was, if it had indeed left its last stop, when it would exactly arrive in Bangkok. Just that the aircraft will depart no more than an hour late!

After lolling around for a while we made our way up the escalators to the departure lounge. Now we saw the Bangkok airport in all its glory and kicked ourselves for not having come up here immediately. Fancy shops, restaurants, clean and proper massage parlors, juice bars and other facilities lined the hallway. And this is one long hallway. We walked close to half a kilometer to get to the gate.

By this time our son was deep asleep in the stroller and we dreaded having to rouse him from his deep sleep to take him through the security check. Thankfully the Thai security guards used their common sense and allowed us to wheel the stroller through the gate. That would never happen in America, Europe, or developed Asia.

At the boarding gate, while we waited for the aircraft, groups of young and middle-age Indian men arrived to take the Indian Airlines flight to New Delhi. Families were few and far between. I imagine there is a lot of business between Indian and the other Asian countries and hence the young men. The cultural shift now happens. The men choose to sit right next to us even with plenty of space available. They also talk and joke loudly. One of them casually lays his arm across the top of my chair, as if I was his long-lost buddy. These are all ways to include me in their midst. While this is all nice and warm, at this time I do want my space. I am tired, I have a sick child, and I am not sure how my wife is receiving this. So we leave for another area.

The aircraft arrives and as we go through another security check, I am reminded of another Indian habit, that of jumping lines. People constantly cut across in front of me. I finally relearn the aggression of cutting in front of others, and by the time we board, I shamelessly cut in front of everybody and board.

The Indian Airlines aircraft was older and the bathroom was messy. There was no television on board and no refrigerator(they use cooler ice to keep things cold). The flight attendants and the pilot though get top marks. They flight was smooth, and the service was excellent. Four hours later we were in the Delhi airport.

Eager to get out, we did not pick up the stroller from beside the aircraft and went on through to immigration. I have noticed a marked improvement in immigration service in India. However, the "babus" (clerks), still try to make themselves relevant by finding mistakes in your form and pointing out the hard work it takes for them to accept these mistakes. Ok, these guys are just rude.

As we were leaving baggage claim, a couple of staffers personally delivered our stroller to us. It was a welcome gesture after suffering immigration bureaucracy. Customs was easy and we made our way out where my brother was waiting for us. Finally we were in India.