Incredible India

Incredible India.

At first I thought it was going to be alright, leading a volunteer trip to India with 12 Chinese students, and a 60 year old translator who could speak only one language. I figured it would give me a good opportunity to practice my Chinese, and hell, it sounded like an adventure.

So far it’s included two missed flights, resulting in overnights in Shanghai, and the New Delhi airport, enroute to Udaipur. It’s required me to hunt down the only person officially representing China Eastern airlines in the New Delhi airport, and 8 hours of negotiation to transfer 14 people onto another flight.

“Sir, I will take care of it, you just need to go with the rest of your group.” Says the Indian representative for China Eastern

“Alright, thank you so much. I really appreciate it.” I force a smile.

I’m not relaxed, I’m being told by my higher ups that I need to bring the group to a hotel for 4 hours so they can nap. But I don’t want to go to that hotel. I know if we go to the hotel we won’t get on the next flight, and I’m going to do everything in my power to get on it.

(Office in China) “I’m worried about them staying at the airport for that long, we will book a hotel for you.”
(Me) “I really don’t think it’s necessary, if we get on this flight it will only be 6 hours until we check in, and I’m worried if we go to the hotel, it will be hard for me to get us on this flight.”
(Office in China) “It’s really not good, we will book you guys a hotel.”
(Me) “Okay, no problem.”

 Incredible India. It’s involved a 60 year old who’s official title is support staff/translator, who, when we finally arrive in the community, requires more support than any of the students, and for me to be her translator.

“May shirr” she growls at me angrily, with her thick, pirate like, Beijing accent.

I know something is going on, she’s pissed off, and I have no idea why. Although I’m able to communicate in Chinese, the combination of her thick accent, and her inability to speak slowly, means I’m guessing half the time at want she wants. She already told me she didn’t want to be on this trip.

“Too hot! Too Far!” She told me. Yet here she is, in India.

I still haven’t caught up on sleep. I’m no longer patient, I’ve pretty much stopped caring.

“What do you want me to do?” I say in English, knowing she can’t understand. “If I don’t know what you’re upset about, I can’t do anything!” I plead exasperatedly, and louder than I should.

“May Shirr!” She Growls louder this time

“Okay, fine. Just let me know if there is anything I can do.”

I figured there would be times that would be stressful. How could it not be? Leading groups of Chinese youth to international locations in developing countries. But after a smooth trip to Kenya I have relaxed, it’s not so bad.

My co-facilitator jokes with me “We will look back on this trip and laugh.”

“Haha, totally.”

Incredible India. We are nearing the end of the trip, I should be relaxed. No serious illness have befallen any of the students. Things have actually been relatively smooth once we got to the community in rural India. I’ve really enjoyed my time in the communities, and hanging out with the rest of the facilitators. There is just one thing, I don’t have a Visa to go back to China.

(Office in China) “I think the transit Visa will work, I’m sure it will.”
(Me) “Are you sure? Has anyone done this in the past? The information I find online says that I won’t be able to board the flight, as it does not qualify for the transit Visa.”
(Office in China) “Yes I’m sure, I’m sure.”
(Me) “Okay thank you, As long as you’re sure.”
(Office in China) “Alright, bye. Yup…I’m pretty sure (click)”.

It has been incredible, the food, the sights, but most of all, the people.

“I’m going to miss you buddy, it’s been good.” I say to Rupesh, my cultural guide/roommate/movie watching companion during breaks.

“Incredible India!” Rupesh yells at me laughing.

“Haha, Incredible India!” I say back, waving.

I don’t want the trip to end. I’m worried that I’m going to get to the airport in Delhi, and won’t be able to get on the flight.

“Sir, do you have another passport.”

“Nope, just the one.” I reply.

“Do you have a China Visa?”

“No, I thought I could go on a transit visa.”

“Unfortunately, you can't board this flight as it isn’t eligible for the transit Visa, as it stops in Shanghai enroute to Beijing.”

“Yup, I thought so too. Thanks, bye.”

“Josh! There’s something wrong with Michael, we took him to the doctor.”

“Sir, your student is technically fine.” Says the airport doctor, “I mean we can’t actually find anything wrong with him. I know that’s hard to believe given how much pain he seems to be in. It’s probably just a stomach ache.”

“So he can fly?” I ask.

“Yes, no problem. We will give him something for the pain.”

“Michael, you go to to get up and check in for your flight.”

“Ooooohhhh no my stomach, I can’t move.”

“Michael, I know you are in pain, but the doctor says you will be okay. We will get you a wheelchair, I promise we won't put your health at risk, but you have to check in for this flight.”

I wave goodbye to the group, as they pass through customs, and are rushing to catch their flight. I feel a wave of relief… no…no...Euphoria rush over me, despite the fact I’m stranded in Delhi. This I can handle.

Incredible India.