The flight starts at 4 am. Pune>Abu Dhabi>Johannesburg> Durban. I will reach at about 11.30 pm same day. 20-21 hrs. Layovers. Breaks. What not….
Packing bags for tours is not new for me. May be that is why I was packing till the last date of the travel. What all to take, food, how much money, new things, the preparations went on for a long time. Ultimately I was ready to leave Pune…
I reached Pune airport at about 12.30. Traveller’s anxiety! It was the last time I was using INRs, for the next 7-8 days, I will be using either dollars or ZAR. What a thought! I understood the hollowness in the thought later. Whatever it is, money is money, and wherever you are, you tend to multiply it by the Indian value. That is dumb, but that is how it works!!
On the check-in counter, this sweet lady was a trainee. She took ages to issue the boarding passes, and told me the best news, till Johannesburg only. After that you will have to check in again. I knew this thought is going to trouble me all the way though now.
Emigration was simple. I did not know I had to fill up that form. Was just carrying around, later filled it looking at other people. The emigration officer was not convinced that “conference” can be a reason to go 'out'. Even if the form has 7/8 options to be filled, the answer should never move beyond official or personal. She kept asking me “so… official?” Ultimately I agreed to the official cause.
Reaching Abu Dhabi was fun. They were actually waking up sleeping travellers under a false sense of hospitality. I had to eat sandwich and have chai to escape from their generosity.
Abu Dhabi is left hand drive country. That realization was fun. So… turning right was ok, right for going and left for coming, change gears by right hand… all weird. Anthropology taught us a concept called ‘ethnocentrism’… this is it!
Abu Dhabi airport was like Macca Jatra. So many people, standing in the crowd arranged in some sort of rows, moving slowly as the next person moves, almost hypnotized. Later realized that it is towards the security gates, and there are more than 40 of them… by the time I reached some senses, I had entered some sort of lanes. Lanes, which will lead us to one of the security gates. Hypnotism continued, as nobody knew what was going on. On the same day, there were some riots going on in the city. Every meter there were screens with these news shouting, and I was thinking this is ironic. A security gate screen showing a news of riot. Haha…
Their security process is different. Here, in India, we have too much security for the security procedure. I mean, on every turn that you take on the airport, there will be a police officer standing checking either your boarding pass or security tags. The next security person will not believe the previous one, and repeat everything again. Here, there are no security tags, no person physically checking passengers etc.
Even if I am carrying nothing, not even a bag, I am still a little afraid of security process. Getting through it, was a joy. Then it was a long walk through the terminals, from 1 to 3, through glass shops, designer mannequins and nothing but things that I wonder who might buy?
Entering South Africa was through Johannesburg. I reached Jo’burg at about 7. Flight to Durban was at 10. Had some time to spend, but still decided to get through the process. The first thing to do was to get the luggage. I had heard stories, and I was scared. And the scare came to reality… the bag did not come. I ran towards the police asking him the story. He looked at me, guessed I am a first timer, said- calm down, take deep breath, close your eyes. Take a slow walk around the belt, you will find it. Still don’t, then come back to me, we will see! I ridiculed it in my mind, but did it… and it worked! The bag was found, lying on the belt, may be my anxiety and ignorance. I went back to him and thanked him for his idea! Next was… security…. My all-time favourite…
The security officer there was sweet. The lady looks at me, checks my bag and says…
“Buy me a drink, eh?”
I took a step back and replied, “Sure, how?”
“How long will you be in South Africa?”
“A week, will be back on Friday”
“Ah, I will be on the other side when you will be back. Buy me then”
“Sure. If you identify me and I do so, I will surely buy you a drink. Haha”
“See you, mate”
That was some interesting conversation!
I did not find her on the way back, at least could not identify her!
Kabir had still not understood the implications of the travel. He still thinks I will be back tomorrow. Poor guy, it will be a problem when he realizes. We spoke on skype, I got half an hour free internet service there on the airport.
I had a burger and coffee. First time, bought something in rands. The owner forced me to tip something to the waiter. When I gave the change, he made a face saying, eh, it is very very less. I gave him 10 Rands, conversion- about 47 Rs. Now I think it was too much!
While boarding, they gave back the other half, the one usually kept with the airlines here. I looked at her, she said- go… I fumbled and went ahead…
Reached Durban at about 11.30. It was very late to really look at the city or make opinion about it. As it is I fail to make an opinion about anything in the first go. It takes me some time. I got a shuttle and went to the destination.
Destination name was glamorous. “Beach hotel”. The glamour stayed in the name, as the hotel was shaky. We were staying on 8th floor- me and my colleague from Bangalore. I reached the room, kept my luggage and sat on the bed. It was after 22 hrs I was sitting on something permanent. I was relieved. All the rumors about foreign traveling, luggage or the person loosing, being robed-mugged-murdered, missing or misguiding the road all had come to an end. I had reached Durban!
The glamour in the name was not only in the name. I realized it when I got up in the morning. Open the curtains are whola… sea front. A few meters away, sea shore. Waves meeting the road, well planted coconut trees, nice designer shore with swimming pools and shopping shacks on the bank. All this is visible through the window. The sun rises and sets right through the window… what else do you want, tell me?
One fine morning, I noticed a pod of dolphins, nicely dancing on the waves and moving ahead. As a tourist I tried taking a picture, and as a tourist- I failed. But again, just like a tourist, I will still show those pictures at my home saying- Sorry, the dolphins can’t be seen, but see this, small black dot? Those were the dolphins. Hahaha
On the very 1st day was my presentation. We reached the conference venue through one of their free shuttle services. Those 10 seater buses were running through the city and picking up people with red tapes in their neck. We met an unusually loud pair of Ibis, sitting on the street light and calling out loud. I had no freckling clue they can be this loud.
As the time for presentation approached, I started to freak out. It was evident on my face, and I enjoy (!) company in such mood. If the company keeps saying “Come, lets go”, then icing on the cake! I wanted to be alone, quiet and basically focused. Nothing was possible. We were too enthusiastic (again '!') to find out where were the stalls and free-bees, we also wanted to find out where our pre-conference sessions were, we also wanted a free meal, if possible. Too many wants, too little legs. The conference venue was HUGE, well organized and well maintained. No question of any question. Still we walked so much. From Global village center to main conference venue, from main entrance on the ground level to the 2nd floor. No reason, just walking around to see, explore. It sounds very good, but hurts your legs. Especially when you are about to enter cough-cold and closing in to your presentation. Finally in the afternoon, we decide to sit in the same room where I will be presenting. Presentation was at 3.30 and we were there since 2. It was a small room with about 20-25 chairs, a small podium and projector. Hm… I thought, ok. I can manage that much! At about 3.15, I reach near the laptop to upload my ppt and the lady chairing the sessions looks at me and says, “Who are you, Mr?”
“I am Rohan. Presenting next…”
“I don’t think you can. This is a special room for trans-men. Can you please show me your book?”
I did so, she pointed at a number.
“Your presentation is in SR9. This is BR9”
“Oh!” is all I said!
Now it was 3.28. I had 2 minutes to reach the room, upload the file and present. The SR9 must be similar as the BR9, I was thinking. It can’t go that wrong now, can it?
SR9 was… a 300 capacity room. SR stands for Session Room, one of the main rooms for panel presentations. I was one of the panelists, about to sit on the stage. I chocked, freaked out. A trans lady came to me, called herself Bali. She was the chair of the session. She helped me to upload the file and asked me to take the chair. I was thrilled and excited, nervous at the same time.
I presented whatever I had to. Wasn’t so great, came to know from the feedback given by the company to rest of my office mates. All he could notice was there were only 22 people, no questions asked, 2 old TGs came and met for some further discussion. It was a great moment for me, something close to an achievement, a happy and proud moment. For him, it was just a session that 22 people attended. Never mind…
The days after that went into struggle with cough-cold, chilled windy atmosphere that Durban offered us, urges of taking as much free-bees for the staff and friends and attending sessions. The last part we did because some of our seniors also joined us, making us almost compulsory to attend sessions. We actually distributed the sessions, attended, made our presence felt by asking questions etc and finally reported to each other. Actually to them! This lasted for a day, as on the next day, the seniors left and we were back to collecting free-bees.
Street life of Durban came across as a risky affair. Random people came and told to keep the bags and purses safe, not to carry the laptop bags in the dark and remove the conference ID when in the city. It was confusing as the people meeting throughout the day were so warm and nice, they had a special handshake when greeting each other, nice way to say ‘Ello, Aw r yoou today?’ overall it was pleasing. The city had a different face, streets being rampaged with thugs, vendors and sex workers. The difference between rich and poor was higher, higher than us, I feel. On one side people had no lesser vehicles than Jaguars and Coopers, no two wheeler on the road, no traffic jams, no more than 4 vehicles at a time at any given signal (this myth changed when we went to interior part of the city, there were about 8 of them!), and on the other side, the street vendors fighting for 1-2 Rands, begging, blabbering about Christ and ‘why are you here’ type thoughts, getting paid less than their average income for driving 18 hrs a day! And here I am talking about Durban, not India… mind you…!
19th, 3rd day was my poster presentation. I have always felt, and it was confirmed this time, that excess help is worse than no help. Even if you have no one around you to help, it is better than having too many people, all wanting to help. Pasting the poster on the wall, finding the right wall were some of the tasks I would have preferred doing without any company. But few things are out of your hands. Somehow the poster was pasted and I presented it for next 2 hrs. Presenting was boring, all one has to do is stand in front of it. People come, look at you/your poster, if they find it interesting/worth enough, they stop. If they fail to understand, then look at you, you then step in, start explaining the mess. 15-20 people I could talk to, which is a great score compared to the rest of posters we had. The presenter was not around for the next poster, and the last one, presenter was standing, but nobody came.
5 days in Durban flew away like sparkle. We met different people, some forcefully as well, as a part of the networking strategy. Some accidentally! Warm, dancing, happy people, that warden who always greeted me with their specific way of shake-hand, that registration girl who asked me if I was from Bollywood and is it possible for me to take her along to India, that TG who was desperately looking for a partner and I was a potential catch… ohh! So many people, so many personas… it was fun interacting.
I had cough-cold all through the stay, still I could enjoy as much as I could. Walking on the beach in the morning, looking at the sun set and rise like an ordinary event, warm and happy people, street shopping and bargaining were some of the happy times. That big mama from whom I bought a small drum, that Namibian drug addict who was trying to sell the paper cutter made with bones (mostly human bone) and I finally bought a small elephant, that key chain maker who ran to his place like crazy when he came to know we were buying more, street shopping was fun.
Coming back from Durban was an exact trace back of the forward journey, except one change. Durban>Johannesburg>Abu Dhabi>Chennai>Pune. Chennai was an addition. Travel was ok, I have never changed 4 flights in 24 hrs, it was quite something. I have never walked 25 mins to change the gate, I have never carried glass liquor bottles through security, never bought chocolates worth $15, never shopped in dollars before… many many things I had never done before.
I reached Chennai and there was some catch. My luggage, though marked till Pune, came out in Chennai, I had to pass it through customs, transfer it to domestic line. At this point they told me liquor not allowed in cabin. Which I knew, but internationally it worked so I was hopeful. I asked them, then? How? I could not even dream of throwing away 3000 Rs worth alcohol. Then how do people get it, after all? They told me to put it in luggage! I had to do a lot to fit those bottles in and then get it going. I was tensed (again) till the bag arrived in Pune.
I reached Pune at about 7.30. Kabir and Rashmi had come to receive me. Someone coming to receive you is one of the greatest feelings one can have. My boy was happy, but not chirpy. Hugged me, but immediately went away. Sat next to me all through the rest of the travel, but did not speak a word.
The days when I was not around were tough for Rashmi and him. Kabir had cough cold and he was missing me terribly. Everything combined took him down. He stopped eating, lost a lot of weight and now looking very pale. We used to talk every day for some time, on whatsapp or skype but he never realized that I will be completely out of reach for so long. He took it badly.
Wherever you may go, you stay what you are, belong to where you belong! Whatever languages you may know, you think, laugh and scream in your mother tongue, whichever currency you spend, you evaluate the cheapness of what you bought by converting it to your own coins, whatever the google earth can show you, you ultimately find your own house on it!!!
