The Great Seat Exchange

The Commute: Traveling March 14 & 15, 2012

Airports and plane rides create a sort of magical connection between people. The journey of traveling in itself is a memorable experience if one only opens themselves up to breathing in the lives of those who surround them, even if the chance meeting is only a fleeting moment on the great time line of life. The vast array of colors, shapes, and sizes of travelers grants the opportunity for a multitude of different stories to be told; no matter how far away their destination is from your own, for a brief moment in a terminal or seat on an air plane a common thread is woven between strangers.

 I met several interesting individuals on my journey to India, including an obese Indian couple that could not speak English, an aggressive Indian woman who definitely could speak English, especially the phrase, “You’re in my seat,” and a young male flight attendant with friendly questions and googley eyes. And yes, these individuals all entered my life within the first 10 minutes of my journey through the event that I have deemed, “The Great Seat Exchange”. My original seat on the oh so glorious 14-hour flight from Chicago to New Delhi was an aisle seat in the middle row of the airplane and shortly after I was seated there the infamous “obese Indian couple that could not speak English” entered the scene. The woman of the pair stared at me, tried to communicate in Hindi, and then when it was obvious that I had no idea what she was saying, she proceeded to make shooing gestures with her hand in addition to pointing at the vacant seats across the aisle. Honestly, my first thought was that she did not want to be seated next to an American, especially some girl in a cute, red knit hat J, but after the couple began to squeeze their way into the seats next to me, that thought was squashed – literally. I was more than happy to oblige and asked the flight attendant (who had been smiling at me constantly and asking me questions about my plans in India with a twinkle in his eye) if I could move into a vacant seat. Yet, The Great Seat Exchange, underwent because the “vacant” seat I hauled all of my crap to was only temporarily open. About four minutes after I got settled in and stowed my laptop, bag of dried peaches, bag of carrots, water bottle, and novel, a hostile woman was suddenly hovering over my seat, claiming it as her own. Supposedly she and her husband made a point to book one seat at the window and one aisle seat. So I gathered up my laptop, bag of dried peaches, bag of carrots, water bottle and novel and trekked back to my original seat next to the overbearing couple (pun intended lol).  The friendly flight attendant, however, found another empty aisle seat a few rows up and I lugged all of my belongs there by a kind businessman with a thick mustache. The rest of the flight was uneventful; I watched a few “classic English movies”, including Sherlock Holmes, Hello, Dolly!, and Oceans 13, and constantly checked the virtual map of the flight to see the little plane creep over the Atlantic Ocean.

The air in New Delhi smelled like hot chocolate powder. As I was waiting outside to board the Air India plane to Vadodara, the aroma wafted around me and sprinkled my senses with spices.  My other senses were put to the test though when I rode from the airport to Navrachana International School with my supervisor, Sujata Srivastava; the Vadodara roads swarmed with motorcycles, violently swerving in between cars and trailing colorful saris in every hue.  Despite my adventurous spirit, the sudden jilts from hard braking unsettled me as our car blended into the chaotic whirl of Indian travelers’ rowdy honking and oncoming headlights.   Amidst the surges of fear, I had to smile at a fond remembrance of Ghana because India has some of the same infrastructure; food vendors in their small stands line the sides of the road and the two story strip-malls hold the same combination of stores: clothing, bank, food, and pharmacy.  Seeing these small connections between cultures is one of the reasons why I believe it is vital that individuals travel abroad: there is an opportunity to see that countries may have different designs, but we are all woven from the same cloth.

The Navrachana International School campus is located on the outskirts of the city of Vadodara, nestled between a small village area and a lush field of trees. I am living in a studio apartment in the Teacher’s Residence Hostel on campus, directly across from the cafeteria and academic buildings. The apartment is fully furnished, very clean, and my favorite features are the air conditioning in my bedroom and my own bathroom J; I’ve had enough “sweat-dripping” days in Ghana and “toting-shower-supplies” days when living on campus in college.  Once my bags were stored in my room, Sujata and I went down one floor to visit the principal of the school, Theo D’souza, and his wife and two daughters. The room was flooded with hospitality as I was warmly greeted with smiles and a sweet fruit drink. We all sat and chatted a bit in the living room where once again I was surrounded by artifacts from Africa; the D’souza family lived in Tanzania and other eastern African countries for numerous years and the walls were decorated with traditional masks, vibrant paintings, and three-foot giraffe wooden carvings. It seems like Africa truly is the center of the world; it definitely is for me (I love you, Sefah!). After many pleasantries, I said goodnight to Theo and his family and went to wash the tired day off my skin.