Traveling to India was exhausting. 2 hour flight to Houston. 1 hour layover. 8 hour flight to Germany. 7 hour layover. 9 hour flight to India. Luckily I had a travel partner, my teammate Anna, to make the beast of a trip with me. I arrived at the OKC airport that afternoon excited for the trip and prepared for the water works that were soon to ensue as I left my family to fly across the world. My first order of business was to check my bags, which included 2 suitcases along with a carrying-case for my golf clubs. Little did I know that I was in for a handful. I won’t mention the airline but the dude working the counter for Continental was almost as annoying as all those times my sis would blare that Jonas Brothers’ song “Hold On” unconsciously loud on repeat in the living room while I would be trying to watch One Tree Hill in my room. The clubs cost $200 bucks to check, which I knew ahead of time, but I was just a tad frustrated that they wouldn’t give me some kind of sports equipment exception/discount. So to add to my frustration while I was checking them, this guy began to question me continually whether I wanted to take the clubs anymore, telling me it’s definitely not worth it and that I wasn’t moving to India to play golf for a living; that I should sell them and use the money for a ring to marry my “girlfriend” traveling with me. This didn’t happen just a couple times like one would assume a normal person would do while engaging in playful banter, I’m talking almost 15 minutes straight to the point where it started to become awkward for all parties in the general vicinity except him. He was like 40 plus and kept pounding it home. I understand...but please stop sir. You are really working hard to make my trip, which already has me a tiny bit stressed considering I’m parting ways with my family and friends for 3 years, as smooth and care-free as possible. First option, I could end this with a swift and powerful Jackie Chan slash Happy Gilmore combo move over the counter with my driver. Potentially effective and gratifying but not practical and definitely anti-characterical to my normalistic behavior…The second option, which I took, was to just laugh it off and get on with life. There were mildly more important things to worry about at the time, like uprooting from 23 years of life in the states to begin afresh in a third world country being one of them. Whew, sorry bout that rant; but transparency crispier than a fresh piece of naan made by a street vendor outside the Taj Mahal is what you can expect on this blog along with some made up words sprinkled throughout.
The time had come for us to say our last good-byes to our families and make our way thru security. We boarded the plane and made a quick trip to Houston and then a long flight to Germany. We were hoping to spend our 7 hour layover in the Frankfurt airport enjoying a nice morning of people watching. We were not disappointed, our time being highlighted by a woman passed out on a bench at the bar in a nowhere close to sleeping position (that German beer will get you, even at 11 AM) and the non-stop flow of the Euro-Capri look on everyone we saw…which eerily gave me flashbacks to a time when my older bro wore JNCO shorts.
The food served on the flight to Germany was fantastic and there was nothing better than hearing the sound of the food cart approaching my aisle. However, on the way to India, as the flight attendant advanced closer with dinner, I experienced a conflict of interests. My heart was telling me to try the Indian food in celebration to the nearness of the arrival to the motherland…but my mind was screaming to pass, to consider the 5 more hours left on this plane and the fact that I’m currently occupying a middle seat. I followed my heart of course (I mean that’s why I’m in India in the first place) and on behalf of my heart I would like to extend an apology to Anna and the entirety of her immediate and extended family for the life-threatening fumes she was exposed to. That Indian food had me passing more gas than the chemical laboratory at Harvard U. (Most were the silent but deadly type so I'm not sure she knew the extent of the situation by sheer noise level.) On top of that, I was sincerely worried about the health of the baby sleeping directly behind me. And to make it worse, I was feeling such an intense bubbling in my stomach that each time I sensed major gas coming forth, for the sake of all the passengers and my new white linen pants, I had to play it safe by excusing myself to the airplane bathroom. The count on these excusements reached double digits and I think I wiped out Anna’s travel-sized pack of Tums. Rough stretch for me. After we arrived at the airport I thought I would surprise Anna with a thunderous fart to cap off the festivities that had occurred on the plane, maybe lighten the mood, however all that came was a pathetic squeak. She definitely wasn't impressed, who would be, meaning I took that risk in vain. I ended up being the one surprised because I usually preform in those types of situations…But life goes on. Overall, we had a lot of fun making the trip despite how exhausting it was...and we were real excited because we had finally completed the journey and arrived safely in the land of butter naan, hungry for the adventures to follow.
Kev
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