Journey to India: part two

My last post was composed of what I had written in my journal while making my way from Toronto to Delhi. I had decided to keep a journal of my trip because it would make me appear deep and thoughtful to others. "Excuse me," I would say, "I must go write in my journal."

Anyway, the thing about a journal is that it only makes sense to have one if you are actually doing things. I am not doing things. Essentially, my trip to India has involved a lot of naps and some mild traveller's diarrhea. At least I think it is traveller's diarrhea. It could just be regular diarrhea. Either way, I have made several people very uncomfortable by starting to talk about it when they ask what I am up to. And yet I do, and also dedicate pages upon pages to it in my journal.

My journal entries largely talk about my poop or what I had for lunch. Some of them make note of the difference in standards of living between India and home. If anything, I would say that a lot of people in India are utilitarian. They make use of the space and resources they have to the best of their ability. Of course, this is a huge generalization, but I like making huge generalizations when I have nothing else to write about.


Journey to India: Part One

The plane to Chicago is small. So small that my already small carryon bag required checking for the duration of the trip. I am worried that they will forget to give it back to me and that I will have no carryon for my flight to India. If this is occurs, I will be pissed off.

They say that, if an accident is going to happen, it will be during takeoffs or landings. I am impartial to takeoffs, but landings are my favourite.

All of my snacks are in my carryon. They better not lose that bag or else, in addition to being pissed off, I will be hungry. I love snacks.

As the plane makes its way down the runway, bumping along as it goes, I can't help but wonder if it will add steps to my pedometer. I hope not. That would be cheating when it comes to the pedometer challenge at work. I plan to come in second place at work based on nothing but my hardwork and the time I devote to putting others to shame, not because the pedometer can't tell the difference between a plane taking off and my hips moving while I walk.

I always worry that I will vomit during take off. Actually, I pretty much just always worry that I will vomit in general. The flight attendant says that our cruising altitude will be 3,500 meters, or maybe feet. I wasn't really listening. I have trouble paying attention.

It is now 5 pm and I think that we are nearly at cruising altitude. The pilot says that we can now use cell phones. I wonder if it is long distance to call Toronto from 3,500 meters (feet?) above it.

The guy in front of me just reclined his chair. I may now officially be trapped in my seat. I cannot tell if this would be better or worse in the occurrence of a crash.

The flight attendant wanted to know if I would like a beverage with ice in it. I declined. I have seen many programs on tv that expressed how much bacteria is in the ice on planes. Besides, I am not that thirsty anyway.

We are currently flying over a large body of water and should be arriving in Chicago within the next twenty minutes or so. I am so hungry that I think my stomach could go on tour with Cher and provide back up vocals.

It is 6:03 pm and John, the flight attendant, has been instructed by the pilot to prepare the cabin for landing. Now, I don't want to be presumptuous, but I think this means we are very nearly there.

I get the feeling that the plane ride to India will be both long and boring. Especially if my carryon gets lost and I cannot have snacks.

6:17 pm: we have landed.

My bag is safe and back in my possession. I have found my gate, K12, and I am now seated in the waiting area. All in all, so far things are proceeding according to schedule, but I am hungry and have a slight headache.

The voice telling people about proper procedure to follow while in the airport sounds suspiciously like Oprah. I will further investigate this when I return home. Unless I forget (I will probably forget). As for now, I will wait.

Apparently our 7:30 pm departure has been pushed back to 8:15 pm.

It is now 8:03 pm and we have yet to start boarding. I feel this is a good thing because my stomach has been doing back flips. I am nervous. I do not really know why, but I am. I would just like to get up in the air and out of here. The longer we wait, the more anxious I get. I may end up popping a second Ativan before I even make it to my seat.

I was wrong before. I said it was 8:03 pm when really I had gone back in time an hour when I arrived in Chicago. It is now 8:17 pm Chicago time and we are heading down the runway. I made a friend in the lounge, but we got separated when boarding the plane because her carryon was just too large. I do not know if I will ever see her again, but I did give her my sister's cell phone number because she asked for it politely and I have problems saying no.

My seatmate seems nice. I am in 25H and he is in whatever comes after that. Though we have not taken off yet, he is already asleep. I have learned that we share something in common: we are both mouth breathers. Back when he was conscious, I confided in him that I have gronala bars in my carryon. He looks like a nice enough guy, so I told him I would share. I only brought the strawberry and mocha flavours because the other option contained nuts and I felt this might present problems.

8:35 pm Chicago time and we are lifting off... or maybe Chicago is experiencing an earthquake? 

I have to say that I am kind of impressed with myself for being able to write all of this legibly while barreling down the runway.

The sound of the plane's wings moving about reminds me of having my teeth cleaned at the dentist - whirling and what not. Thankfully, no one is trying to put their hands in my mouth. That would just be awkward this early into the flight.

Don't tell anyone this, but I kind of enjoy mild turbulence. Not major turbulence (that stuff makes me want to hurl). But when the plane jostles around just a little bit, enough to wake up sleeping passengers and cause them to make confused faces, I can't help but smile. It warms my heart.

It is after 9:30 pm Chicago time and dinner has been served. There were many different types of beans involved and I can't help but wonder if eating my meal will turn out to be a mistake in the long run. I plan to go to the bathroom in about half of an hour and then attempt to get some sleep.

The woman in front of me has reclined her seat. I would like to recline mine as well, but I am not an asshole.

It is 10:49 pm Chicago time, which is 11:49 pm at home. This means we've been flying for about 2.5 hours. I haven't gone to the bathroom yet, but I plan on doing that relatively soon. My plan of attack is to stay awake until about 2 am home time and then sleep for 2 hour blocks after that.

My nose is getting a little dry, so I think I will use the nasal spray I bought.

12:40 am, approximately: I peed in the washroom. It was tiny. It was wet. But it didn't smell bad. I also used nasal spray.

It is now 8:46 am home time. The cabin has been dark for a while now and I am pretty sure I have been wooing those around me with open mouth sleeping and mouth breathing. In theory, we will get breakfast soon and will land in about two hours. The flight really hasn't been all that bad, but next time I am putting my carryon up top. I cannot afford to sacrifice any legroom on a flight this long.

Stay Tuned for Journey to India: Part Two


Keeping You Posted


I am leaving for India on Sunday.

I'll let you know if I get diarrhea.