I paid 2 or 3,000 extra rupees for an earlier flight. I reckoned it was safer to arrive before dark. Turns out, that plan was for naught. My earlier flight was delayed by over three hours, and because it was a different airline, and things don’t run as smoothly as back home, I know have to pay nearly 6,000 MORE rupees. Great. Wonderful.
In the ticket agent’s office, they tried to tell me to fix it on the website (The website, like many things in India, didn’t work; it just kept running me in loops. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve tried to book a guesthouse or plane ticket or bus ticket and had a similar experience.). I ended up talking with an agent, but surprise, my foreign credit card would not work. (This often happens in India. Way to say, “We don’t want you to travel here…” Supposedly, it’s to thwart off terrorism….or maybe it’s tourism?) I cried. I just could not deal with losing all of these rupees to stupid airlines and my stupidity and I haven’t eaten today and why the fuck am I here in India when I could be snuggled in Wayne’s warm arms? I dreamt of him last night, that I had gone home for two days, and how painfully I do miss him?
I haven’t eaten anything other than snacks today and that might be why I’m feeling the way I’m feeling. I just caught myself gnawing on my finger (No, I’m not exaggerating.). I only hope we leave soon and the rest of the day goes as seamlessly as it can.
Every time I see other travelers, they’re mostly with friends. It’s a way easier way to travel in India. I suddenly feel so very lonely. In two weeks, I’ll be on my yoga training, too busy to be lonely. And then I travel with my boy! And another friend might come over too.
Some days suck. That’s life. It doesn’t mean you should toss it all away...but just means you need to clear your mind and hopefully things will work out in the end.
And after I cried, the ticket agent/flight attendent who originally tried to help me came up to me. “Have a chai...You were crying. Why were you crying? Your makeup is ruined.”
I was annoyed. and pissed about the money. “I don’t really care.”
Later, in the bathroom, while washing my hands, I noticed my eyeliner. With my shirt sleeve, I wiped off the smudges under my eyes. “You know, you are very beautiful. Very beautiful,” said the agent, who was standing at the mirror.
And this is what India is like. You are ready to throw it all in, and then a gem like this happens. Someone offers kindness and compassion. And you think, “This isn’t such a bad place after all. Not at all.”