Home sweet home!

America. Land of the free. Where every shower has a curtain, every toilet has paper, and you have to go all the way to an Oakland Raiders game to see people peeing in the streets. After 33 days in a foreign country and 60 hours of flying, I'm happy to be home. To get an idea of what I really missed about being home, take a look at the first thing I did when I got to the U.S. and then see the second thing I did when I got to the U.S. Something tells me you probably could have guessed both of those, in that order.

I wish I could say it was easy coming home; in one day of flying, Indian Airport Security, Lufthansa, United Airlines, and the Portland International Airport all managed to make it onto my list of parties I care not to do business with. I recount the last 30 hours of my flight with as much detail as I can remember, given that the better parts of my brain have blocked most of it from memory.

Tuesday, June 24, 2007
12:15 AM IST After saying goodbye to everyone in the office, Alec and I head to the airport a little bit later than desired for our 1:45 AM flight. I get to the check in counter with my two carry on bags and two check in bags, the same collection that I arrived in the country with. I'm informed by the lady at the counter that I can only carry on one bag if it has a laptop in it. "What?!" I ask. "It's not Lufthansa's rules, it's India's rule. Security won't let you past with two bags," she explains. "Will these be okay?" asks Alec behind me. "Is that a camera bag? Yes, that's fine," she assures him. She continues with me, "Well, you'll have to put that smaller bag inside your larger bag. If it doesn't fit, take the laptop out and carry it under your arm." "You have got to be kidding me," I exclaim, hoping that I'm the butt of a short-lived joke. "No, once you get through security, you can unpack both bags and take them onto the plane, you just have to pass security with one bag. Sorry for the inconvenience sir." So there at the front of the line with everyone watching, I unpacked all my belongings with great swiftness, shoved my laptop bag inside my rolling travel bag, tucked my laptop, DVD case, and Bible under my arm, and walked to the immigration line.

1:15 AM IST After waiting in the immigration line for 45 minutes, I finally made it through. Alec had some trouble with his ticket because his original ticket was scheduled to leave several weeks ago. It took him about 40 minutes to get it straightened out and I was concerned he would miss his flight but somehow he ended up through the line before I did (you sort of get used to these inconsistencies after being in India for long enough). At any rate, we both made it out with what we hoped would be enough time to make it through security and to our flight.

1:25 AM IST Security was no problem. The security guard took one look at me and hesitated, probably thinking that I had too many bags, but then realized that I was in compliance and let me through. Once through security, I immediately unpacked all my gear again, organized it into its original configuration, and head to the line of people boarding the plane.

1:35 AM IST Alec asks, as we're walking to the flight, what seat I'm in. "33K", I reply. "33K? Hmm, I'm also in row 33. ...possibly seat K!" After closer inspection, sure enough, we had been given the same seat. We stop an attendant while in line to point out the mistake. After making a few walkie-talkie calls, they take my ticket, cross out 33K and write in 25G, tell me to get a new ticket at the next counter, and send us on our way.

1:40 AM IST We arrive at the counter where boarding passes are being accepted. Alec continues to the plane while I wait for a new boarding pass. While getting to the counter, we had speculated that 25G might be Business or First Class and I assure him that if he bumps me into Business Class, I will buy him a coffee when we get home. After 5 minutes of confusion, with up to 7 Lufthansa representatives making phone calls back and forth and some of them asking me what's going on, I am finally handed my new boarding pass...with seat 33K printed on it. "But someone else has 33K," I explain. "Oh we've taken care of it. It's a window seat!" she assures. So I race the 100 feet down to the plan and make it on as the final passenger. As I walk to my seat, I see Alec settling down in seat 25G...in Business Class. He has yet to buy me a coffee.


1:30 PM EST I've gotten over the Business Class incident and have safely landed in Washington, D.C. I know there were a lot of messages over the airplane's PA system about customs but I was listening to my iPod most of the time and didn't hear them. I think I'll be fine. I'm meeting my aunt and uncle from Baltimore here and we plan to have dinner. So when faced with going to the line of people catching connecting flights and going to the line of people staying in Washington, D.C., I go to the latter because I'm not sure I'll be able to leave the airport otherwise. I go through customs with just my carry-on and then meet my family and we have a very good steak dinner. At some point, it occurs to me that the reason there was two lines may have been important for me to pay attention to.

4:30 PM EST My flight leaves in an hour and I'm still a little concerned. I made it through security and to my gate in plenty of time, but I seem to remember something about taking your checked-in baggage through customs playing on the airplane's television. No one staying in D.C. had to take more than their carry-on through customs, though, so I'm not too worried. I ask the woman at the counter about my bags and she assures me, in a tone that made me think she was tired of talking to me before we started, that my bags were checked in to Portland and that they would meet me there. I reiterate the problem just in case, and she reassures me. So I feel pretty good.


8:30 PM PST I'm home! It's a wonderful meeting with the family. Besides the fact that I've been pretty sick ever since my first encounter with red meat in 5 weeks just hours earlier, my homecoming was as good as anticipated. Debbie even met me with a goofy sign to try to embarrass me (it didn't work!). So we head to baggage claim and wait. ...And wait. ...And wait. Finally I get the idea and check with the lady in the baggage claim office. She tells me that, in fact, I was supposed to get my bags in D.C. and take them through customs myself. Also, she tells me that PDX would not deliver them because it was my fault. So I got them the next day (and in horrible condition...I think those Customs guys probably take their aggression from having to clear the leftovers by themselves out on the bags.)

It may have been an unpleasant trip back but I made it and that's all that counts! Things would have been significantly worse had I missed a plane or actually lost one of my bags for good. The flight mishaps were far overshadowed by the fact that I got to be home, visiting my family, sleeping in my own bed, and eating with a knife and fork. So long India, we'll talk again when my toothbrush stops tasting like lake water...