The Last-Minute Flight - Part I

There are two feelings when you live in a place. You either feel like a stranger or you feel as if you belong to that place. But there is one more feeling. It is a mix of both. A combination of both. You feel like a stranger at the same time a feeling of belonging exists.

I felt the same way when I visited Bogota, Colombia in the month of February. I was thousands of miles away from my homeland and I felt like a stranger in the city yet the city gave me a feeling of belonging. But the story of how I managed to reach there sounds funny to me now.

I remember in the month of January, I was ecstatic about visiting this country. My tickets were booked. My visa got approved. Everything was going smoothly. And in the back of my head, there was only one question – How things can go so smoothly in my life? And also, I said a silent prayer in my head. “Please, save the adventures for the new place!”

I was supposed to reach Bogota via Frankfurt, Germany. Since I was invited to a global conference; I had no role in the booking of tickets. I was doing what I was asked to do. The night arrived finally. I was at Delhi International Airport, waiting for my turn at the check-in counter. This was the first time I was going for an international visit. I was nervous.

My turn came. The guy behind the desk called me and passed me a smile. I handed him my passport, e-visa and tickets. The guy took a good look and started typing something on his computer. He checked my e-visa twice, cleared his throat and asked me.

“Where is your German visa, sir?”

I was confused. I was going to Colombia and I had a Colombian visa. I cross-checked with him once to ensure that what I have heard is right.

“Sir, you need a German visa. You cannot board this flight,” he said.

“But I am going to Colombia,” I kept a straight face but in my head, I was pretty messed up now.

“Sir, as per German law you need to have a visa even if you want to spend 5 minutes on the airport,” he said.

“But I wasn’t told. Travel agents booked my tickets and I was unaware of this,” I replied.

“Sir, that’s the problem. People don’t check the details,” he said.

“So, what should I do now? I have to reach there at any cost,” I replied. I was in panic mode now.

“Sir, you can book via Amsterdam. You don’t require any transit visa for the same,” he said.

I stood there for a while. I had no clue what to do now. It was 1 am at night. I was sad at the same time frustrated hearing about the new development.

“Can you guys do something? Maybe speak to other airlines and adjust the booked ticket somehow,” I requested him.

He dialled a number; spoke to someone on the other side. Maybe his senior. He nodded twice, kept the phone and said, “Sir, we are extremely sorry. We cannot do anything. You will have to move now. Other passengers are waiting.”

I grabbed my stuff and moved aside. I kept my passport and tickets in my pocket and made my way back to the exit gate. I stopped mid-way. “This cannot be the end of my first international trip,” I said in my head.

I bought a bottle of water and took a few sips. I sat down nearby and started browsing through the contact list in my phone. And then it clicked.

I texted the person, who was looking after my bookings and left her a message. I had no clue whether it will work or not. But there was a need to apprise them about this fuck up. After all, I was supposed to give a session at the global conference.

I sat there watching people happily going for security checks and immigration clearance. I felt guilty too. I should have checked. Suddenly, my phone beeped. It was a new message. She replied. I felt relieved partly. But after reading the message, I was disappointed again. She was asking me to book a new ticket and they will reimburse me later on. She apologized as even she didn’t know I required a German visa for transit purpose.

I told her I cannot book a ticket as of now as it was too costly and requested her to send me the minutes of the meeting later on. I told myself – it is not happening – and got up. I walked up to the airline guy and requested him to escort me out from the departure terminal.

I walked out and booked a cab back home. On the way back, I was feeling depressed again. This was my chance to get out of the country but here I was so close yet couldn’t board. I checked my watch. It said 3 am. Boarding must have been done by now.

The cab reached my place. Driver’s voice brought me back to the real world. I paid him cash and got down. I sat down near the gate of my building. I wanted to run away. And then my phone beeped. It was a message from her. My tickets were booked again. And this time via Amsterdam. She said. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I read it twice. I felt relieved. She said that my presence meant important to them and so they cancelled my existing ticket and booked another one for the next night.  I was excited again.

To be continued…

Source: https://creativeconnections.org/portfolio/bam-airport/