Hello everyone!
I have been gone for almost a week now and much has happened. First of all, though I left the states on Wednesday, I didn’t make it to India until Sunday. Ryan and I toasted our trip with free wine on the plane to London, having no idea what was to come. We were supposed to make a stop at Heathrow for an hour to refuel and take on more passengers, though the layover turned to 3 hours when the plane had some technical difficulties on the ground. Should have known. First a mental picture of the plane: boeing 747 packed to the gills with Indians and a handful of westerners who could only afford to fly Air India. Bollywood films playing on the screen, hindi music in the cabin. Then Twenty minutes after we took off on our 8 hour journey to Delhi, our rickety old plane blew an engine. No joke. A very nervous pilot came on the speakers, “Um, we are having engine problems and need to go back to Heathrow. But first we’ll have to dump fuel for half an hour to balance the plane for landing.” Cue 400 angry and panicky Indians. It was insane. I looked out my window and this huge jet of fuel was spraying out of the wing. I wasn’t scared, maybe I’m naïve, but what transpired next on that plane was hilarious. Rumors abounded – we had lost an engine, we didn’t have enough fuel, we were being hijacked, there was a bomb on the plane, we had run out of chicken curry (the last seemed to provoke the most distress.) Half the plane was up and moving around. Families gathered to discuss the situation in rapid-fire hindi, old women prayed, kids ran up and down the aisles, and everyone accosted any poor flight attendant in sight. And for some reason everyone bum-rushed the kitchen to grab as many cartons of orange juice and trays of chicken curry they could carry. I do not understand this logic. If they really thought their lives were about to end, why did they need the chicken curry? The boy next to me excitedly showed me the shots of the smoking engine and the spray of jet fuel that he filmed on his camcorder. (check on youtube, it might have made it on.) A little old Indian woman chased a distraught male flight attendant down the aisle, yelling at him in Hindi and smacking him over the head with her oversized handbag. Ryan got up to go check out the group of Indian men gathered by the emergency exit, one of whom had miraculously come up with a copy of Air India’s passenger rights. I think they were planning a coup. As for me, I put on my headphones and turned on Death Cab for Cutie and pretended like nothing was happening. (not sure if that is a healthy or unhealthy coping strategy, but it worked.)
We made an emergency landing (everyone was fine) and were greeted by an array of fire trucks and ambulances. Then they dumped us all in the terminal to wander around like the jews in the dessert (except this time it was the Indians in the airport) for four hours, sent us through customs, told us to go get our bags only to then tell us we could not get our bags because they were stuck in the plane. Eventually they herded us out to the bus stop and put us all on busses to four different airport hotels. Air India doesn’t seem to have many other airline friends and they couldn’t get another plane, nor could they afford to fly everyone on other airlines. So we had to fix this plane. And they took three days to do it – sent an engine and 15 engineers in from India. Meanwhile, it was like an episode of Real World in our hotel. But this time it was 100 strangers, mostly Indian, stuck in a hotel, without their luggage, and forced to eat really bad English food.
Ryan and I didn’t care, we were in no rush. We got a free, all-expenses paid trip to Europe! We toured London for two days on Air India’s dime, and made a bunch of friends with the other passengers. We are meeting up with one today who is going to tour us around Delhi, we’ve been invited to spend Diwali with another guy’s family, and we’re attending a Punjabi wedding in November – the big, 3-day, 2000 people type of Indian wedding. All that aside, we made it to Delhi safe and sound on Sunday morning, and were interviewed by Indian national news camera crews on our way out of the airport. (Newsman: “Here we have with us two American survivors of the Air India flight 112 crisis. Madam, was it horrible?” Lisa: “Um, well it was a little scary at first, but London was great and all the other passengers were wonderful. We made a bunch of friends!”) I don’t think this was the dramatic news story he was looking for, so he moved on quickly.
This email is so long, my apologies. It’s our third day in Delhi, we’ve met with the heads of the NGO, and we’re heading north to Dharamsala later this week. More to come, and please write me back and let me know how you are doing! I am doing great, very happy to be here, but I feel pretty far away from home. Some emails from you all would be wonderful. When I have an address in Dharamsala I will send it out.
If you want to check out my new home for the next few months, take a look at this youtube clip: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ir6pbZr6Oig
Much much love to you all,
Lisa
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