Never gonna fit in...hilarity ensues.

Travel to India is always hard. The flights are long and cramped and I am a person that needs to work on patience...especially when it comes to lines, or waiting, or any other form of human group behavior.

Chicago O'Hare had nearly a 6 hour layover, this reduced my ticket price in a way that would warrant anyone to endure a six hour layover anywhere. However long it was pleasant. I used the airport's awesome little yoga room. They have a little private yoga studio in Terminal 3. You must remove your shoes and no speaking is allowed. I did some sun salutations, breathing and meditating for about an hour. It was so refreshing and impressive. I also noticed many of the flight crews used this room for yoga. I chatted with a pilot once we were finished using the room. I don't know about you, but the idea of a calm, centered, yoga minded pilot is very comforting to me. He flew for Delta...just saying. Pretty cool.

Spending that long in an airport you sit quite a bit, I spent half of my layover in the main rotunda around domestic terminals 1, 2, and 3. I found a quite spot near the Urban Garden to read. Then once they posted my flight's gate information I headed to Terminal 5, which required me to leave the secured area and take the tram, then reenter through security. 

 In terminal 5, I had a hard time getting a WiFi connection. (hence this late post) so I did the next best thing. Sat in the terminal's swankiest bar. When you sit at an airport bar people are chatty and I met some interesting folk. I met a Lutheran minister, we had common connections to folks at Concordia. He was on his way to Nigeria for work and his best friends wedding. I also met this really cool man who was flying to Warsaw to meet his online girlfriend of two years for the first time, ever. He was excited and nervous. We chatted about our trips, yoga, Buddhism,- he was a cool old hippie that was "into Buddhism" - he showed me his meditation bell app for his phone. Rings a chime on every hour. "Keeps me focused" he said. I liked this guy he had a meditation bell app and he was taking a giant leap of the heart. What is not to love about his audacity...."don't worry about the in-person shit...obviously there is a connection, she invited you to her home, right?"  My sage advise to him, don't worry he was well aware that I had no authority on this subject. Namaste and good luck, dude.

Abhu Dhabi airport is another story. It's in general a giant high end mall. With duty free liquors and shops like Givenchy, Chanel, Hermes...things I think are pretty, but rather expensive and indulgent. I prefer to grab a coffee and watch people stare at me rather than shop for things I don't need. So that's what I did.

This starts the "never gonna fit it" portion of my travels. From Abu Dhabi onward I will always stand out. What people say about white-skinned/blonde women traveling in Middle East and India is true, people watch you, notice you. It can be a leering, depends on who the eyes belong to. But in general its just people watching....shit, being an Olympic-level people watcher, I get it. I would stare at my weird-ass too. 

Speaking of, once we boarded the flight I found myself seated almost exactly in the middle of 4 rows of young Malayalee male gulf workers. All of my Indian friends that just read this just collectively did a "uh-oh" and laughed out load hysterically. What this means for the others unfamiliar, is that these are young single guys who travel to the "gulf " to do construction jobs, or lite clerical office work. Soft-skill workers. They are paid a good wage for Indian standards and probably all going back home for a visit in between jobs. The general stereotype is...these guys are flush with money, like to drink, and are a bit unsophisticated and rough around the edges. 

 True, they took full advantage of the free Dewars on the generous Ethiad flight. The nice man next to me had six whiskey sodas. SIX.  My flight and my rows were lively. This group was rowdy, but they were also very polite to me. I was able to test my Malayalam a bit. Gave them giggles and surprises with my childish Malayalam. "Tanga" or "Pucha" - in an American Midwestern accent must have been hilarious to the tipsy crew. I chatted a little with the man across the aisle, he spoke a little English, all of them had limited English, but they were very nice to me. Respectful. I helped one with is immigration forms and had extra pens for the others. I shared my Pringles and gave another the bread and salad from my dinner. We had  high-fives over skydiving videos that were playing on the entertainment screens. In return, my comfort was attended to. I never had to reach for that attendant call light, and when I got up they all stood up, even if not seated in my row. Who says chivalry cannot happen at high altitudes?! Ajith laughed hysterically upon hearing this story. Hysterically. That is just one of the many reasons I love Ajith. Good times.

Namaste, 
Christy