travel-anecdote 5

On the Indigo 1026 from Singapore to Chennai, I saw a passenger two seats in front of me watch videos in an interesting way. She had wrapped her phone in a plastic cover, wedged it behind the tray table so that it would appear at a comfortable viewing position, and watched an Asian movie (presumably with bluetooth headphones). At first, I wondered if she travels with a plastic wrapper for this purpose. Then I realized it was from the Indigo safety instructions kit. ...

I am a vegetarian. More out of habit than religion. (I’m not very religious.) What that means, in practice, is that I don’t eat non-vegetarian food knowingly. But it has happened unknowningly. Many times. Until I was 22, I had not been out of India on my own, and things were fine. In 1998, I went to Charlotte, NC, for training. (On a KLM flight that placed me illegally in Germany, but that’s another story.) I was pretty groggy after an 8-hour night flight. So when I was woken up by the sound of breakfast, I bit into the big yellow thing on the tray in front. Sleepy as I was, I did feel a little suspicious. Didn’t quite taste sweet, like I was expecting it to. I saved it for the last, when Ram, my manager, walked past. ...

UTSUNOMIYA, Japan, Dec 1998. I was on a project with Honda R&D at Utsunomiya, Japan. And I’m vegetarian. The next day, Yoshioka-san – our counterpart at Honda – took us to the canteen and introduced me to the chef. Knowing that “vegetarian” in Japan includes eating fish and birds, I took the chef aside. “I’m vegetarian,” I emphasised. “Hai. Vegetarian.” “I don’t eat fish.” “Ah, so. No fish.” “I don’t eat chicken. No birds.” ...

If it weren’t happening to me, I’d appreciate the British sense of humour. I was at the King’s Cross station, buying tickets for the next week at a counter. “Hi, um… I already have a zone 1-5 pass…” “Con-gra-tu-LAY-tions!” Comments Anonymous 11 Jan 2007 1:13 pm: dont follow the humour

For a long time, I thought the problems associated with getting an American visas was mainly for Indians. Today, I met someone at a Lebanese restaurant near Marble Arch. (It’s called Maroush III. There are at least a couple of other Maroushs in the area.) He’s a consultant, and has been travelling around the globe for over 20 years. He recently flew from Boston to Bangalore. Without a visa. Why? Because he would be issued a visa at the port of entry, of course. Stands in the queue. Hands his passport to the officer. The officer leafs through the pages. Halts. Studies each page very carefully. Gets puzzled. ...