Saturday, April 27, 2013

Fin [Sunday, July 4 2010]


June 30, 2010

Well this day has been bittersweet.

I went to work, as usual. But today, I actually paid attention to my surroundings. Young cab driver who calls me ma'am was taking me today. He's fun. When he drops me off, he runs like lightening to my side of the car to open the door and tell me to have a good day.

Work was just sad. I had lots to get through as usual: e-mails to answer, problems to solve, cabs to pay for, blah blah blah. Priyanka went with me to get coffee so I could have my very last Costa fix. I worked through lunch, but did take a minute to go have lunch with the girls and Vivek. Around 3:30 I had to pay for my cab rides for the month. Seriously, Manjeet makes out like a bandit when it comes to couriering around people for CEB.

Finally, I wrote my goodbye e-mail and packed up my computer. I started with the few people I knew wouldn't make me cry: Rahul and Ritesh. Then I moved over to Pooja, Nidhi J, and Anita. I could feel my eyes starting to prick up and knew it was going to be bad news bears. I tried to rush through it, hoping that if I did I could finish without crying, but that didn't help at all. I mean, the second I looked at Pooja and little Anita, I knew I was done for. Then I quickly said "goodbye" and rushed over to Priyanka and Supriya. By the time I got to Adi and Vivek, I could barely speak, let alone look at them. And I still had FOUR more people to say goodbye to! Nitra could tell that I was already losing it and as I hugged her and then ran over to hug Sim, I grabbed a tissue and blamed Supriya for giving me her cold in the past five minutes. Then I hugged Shweta and continued making jokes. I believe my last words were, "You better call me all the time And you should call and e-mail your design partners, too. But most importantly call me!" And then I practically ran away. Even just waving goodbye to Susmita at reception was difficult. I choked out a "Hope to see you soon" and just followed my driver out the door.

Then I cried the whole way home. Halfway through, I realized that in all the hubbub I forgot to hug Savs! So then I cried harder and vowed to e-mail her the second I got to the apartment.

The apartment was blissfully empty. I finished packing and plugged in my computer to send my all-important e-mail to Savs. Apparently I was being cut off from India for good, bescause no wi-fi access. Totally sucked. I tried for like 20 minutes before Ranjeet and the houseboy showed up and then he tried to fix it. Finally I moved into the living room while the houseboy cleaned and just worked from the couch  I think this threw the houseboy off a little.

Nidhi and Vikram came by to say farewell. Luckily I was all cried out, so those two got happy "I'm-going-to-miss-you-so-much" Tara.

My cab driver got to the apartment insanely early and Ranjeet helped me to the car. I heart Ranjeet. I made sure he knew I left him 200 on the dresser. Hopefully he shares a little with the house boy, but seriously Ranjeet deserves it. The man is insanely nice and helpful.

The cab driver had to stop and get gas on the way to the airport. He kept the car running, got out of the car, started pumping gas, and then proceeded to talk on his cell phone and light up a cigarette. I looked around to see if anyone else was as alarmed as I to see this happening, and realized that everyone was doing something similar. I would be just like me to die on the way to the airport after a great trip.

Airport check-in has been interesting. I had to show my ticket and passport just to get into the airport. Then it took me about 10 minutes to find Continental, 20 minutes to get someone who made sense to check me in—they had to ask a million questions about what I was doing here—and 20 more minutes to pay my heavy bag fee and get a receipt. Then came customs, then security. Why no one in the security area of an international airport could speak English is beyond me. There are like 26 lettered meta detector gates and the woman just kept pointing towards "A." No one seemed to know where I should be going in that general direction so I just picked a lane and crossed my fingers. Luckily I made it through.

Unlike American airports, this place had like a handful of cafes to grab food and drink from. All I wanted was a diet coke, but I couldn't bring myself to use my card for 30 rupees, so I wandered over to Subway. Gross. I basically just ate the bread.

The flight was uneventful. I had an Indian man traveling on business sitting in the middle seat next to me. I don't know if it was because he had a big guy sitting on the other side of him, but he continuously encroached on my personal space and elbowed me quite a few times during the flight. At least he didn't ask about tomato soup. I know the warning signs now.

My first "American" meal experience in a month was on flight CO85: chicken and potatoes. It was the best airline food I think I have ever had. Just having a meal that didn't have Indian spices made my day. I mean, don't get me wrong, I love Indian food, but sometimes you just want something else. And man did I need something else!

I slept for about eight hours—basically a full India time zone night (12/1 a.m.–9 a.m.). I've been awake since about 1 a.m. US time, so I'm hoping that doesn't cause me any major jetlag issues.

July 1, 2010

I arrived at Newark around 4:15 a.m. I had to go through customs to find my luggage and then re-check it. Fun. Then I took the train to my concourse and walked through security to find a Starbucks. Angels were singing and shining light down on that little Starbucks kiosk. Hello my old friend. How I've missed you.

Finally, I got to board the plane at 8:30 a.m. We sat on the tarmac for 45 minutes—not that I really knew what was happening. I was basically out like a light the second I got on that plane. At 10:30 a.m. I arrived in DC. I went through customs and made my way down to the baggage carousel. I think the baggage carousel eeked out like eight bags before stopping. And because this is my life we're talking about, none of my bags were there. I then spoke to an idiotic carousel guard who pointed me down to a pile of luggage at the end of the hall. Thankfully, my two bags were there.

I walked out to the taxi stand and got the first one that accepted credit cards. My driver was a little Indian man and we discussed the differences between India and the US for our entire 10 minute drive back to my apartment.

Now time to unpack, do laundry, and re-pack for my trip to Poquoson tomorrow. I hope Mandi doesn't need her suitcase back.

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