Back in India

Greetings from Durgapur!
I left a very cold, snowy North Carolina on Jan. 4th.
I know this trip by heart and pretty much know what to expect at each airport as I make my way east, but the flight from Dubai to Kolkata was a bit more interesting and in some ways unnerving.
I was seated in seat D30 which is an aisle seat in the middle section of the cabin, not my favorite place to sit. Next to me was a young Indian man, a Muslim. Next to him was another Indian man, maybe a little older than the man next to me. These two men were friends but were obviously from different castes/classes. The younger man looked to be from the scheduled caste which is the caste that most of India’s poor belong to. I’m guessing this by his appearance, not his dress, but his features. The poor have definite facial features that those in the higher classes don’t have.
The young man, whom I will call Mr. Impatient, was, I think, a first time flyer. He couldn’t get the TV monitor to work and was busy pushing every key available, but to no avail. Actually, it wasn’t turned on yet, but he kept fiddling with it so I tried to help him. I usually have trouble with this stuff myself, but anyway, I gave it a try, and nothing. He couldn’t get situated in his seat, kept dropping things like the headset and rearranging his blanket. Finally he was settled for awhile, and I watched UP.
Breakfast was served at about 3:00 AM and this presented Mr. Impatient with some more things to fret about. First, the meal was not to his liking, he wanted a vegetarian meal, but the Flight Attendant had a little trouble communicating with him. She kept asking him if he wanted veg. Of course he had no idea what she was talking about. His friend helped him out here and the change was made. I was wishing I had ordered veg, because it looked quite nice. After the man in front of Mr. Impatient finished his breakfast, without thinking, tilted his seat all the way back. Mr. I’s containers started toppling over, and he began to bang on the back of the seat and yelling at the man to put his seat up. In his surprise, the man became flustered and couldn’t get his seat up. It took help from his neighbor and three of us behind to get the seat back up. Whew! By now, the folks sitting around us are tuned into Mr. Inpatient’s every move. All of us are wondering, “What’s next?”
Being a Muslim, Mr. I wanted to pray at the 5:00 prayer time, but his breakfast tray is still sitting there. He stands up and shouts “Hello, hello?” Everyone turns to him and stares. The flight attendant comes quickly. There is a lot of loud talking on the part of Mr. I., but the flight attendant is calm and tries to calm this man down explaining that the cart is on the way and to wait just a few more minutes. Nothing doing. He wants out of his seat now, so he plops his tray on top of mine pretty much forcing the flight attendant to take it away. I explain to him in body language that the cart is in the aisle and he can’t get by it so he must stay in his seat. Soon the cart passed our aisle and the two friends get up and head straight to the bathrooms, Mr. I on the left and his friend on the right. Now the bathroom on the left apparently is in a mess, so Mr. I heads straight through the cabin to the first class bathroom. At this point the two men sitting on the aisle seats in the row in front of us get up simultaneously and head after Mr. Impatient.
We’re all rubber-necking trying to see just where Mr. Impatient has gone. I’m guessing he was praying in the space between the cockpit and the first-class cabin. He was gone quite awhile, but his friend returned after using the bathroom.
While Mr. I was gone, the man in front of me called the flight attendant over and expressed his concern about this man. All the while the man was talking, the flight attendant was patting him on the shoulder, rubbing his arm, and generally trying to console him. “It’s okay.” The flight attendant asked me if the man had been abusive to me. Well, no. A bit of a nuisance, yes, but rude or abusive, no, but when he finally returned, I found myself watching him out of the corner of my eye, just in case…
It wasn’t until the plane touched down that I felt more at ease. I guess he was just a confused, first time flier. Alhamdulilah!
Things went smoothly through customs and my bags were there and in decent shape and Rev. Swagata Das was at the gate to greet me.
The ride back to Durgapur was fast with our driver doing all the typical things I have come to expect from Indian drivers: blowing the horn non-stop, tail-gaiting (really tailgating), passing recklessly, etc. We had a flat which the driver quickly changed, but the spare was warped or something so the ride became very rough. Did the driver slow down to compensate for this? Not on your life!
I was happy to see the children but sad to learn that some of the older girls had left the hostel. New children had taken their place, and so the work continues.
The sewing center is almost finished and is really nice. It will be dedicated when Bishop Taylor comes in February.
If you get too cold and are tired of shoveling snow, come on over. The weather here is very nice this time of year.
Blessings to all,
Lynn