We’ve made it! F Squad has officially landed in the stomping grounds of Mother Theresa: Kolkata, India. Our first flight, from D.C. to Doha, Qatar, was a little over 12hours long, but thankfully, didn’t feel like it. I fell asleep within the first 20 minutes of boarding only to be woken up by the stewardess a few hours later asking me if I preferred chicken or lamb. We were served both dinner and breakfast on that flight, and I was able to watch The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, a movie that had been recommended to me by a fellow world racer. Our transfer between flights was quick; quicker than I would have liked. We were in the Middle East, and I wanted to take it in.
I wasn’t sitting by a window, but a girl who was said that we were surrounded by deserts, and as we were about to board the next plane, it hit me that I was no longer in America. How is it that in the Middle East, there can be a fully functioning airport, while there is a war going on just a few miles away? It blows my mind that the world can keep spinning when that much injustice is taking place.
Right after that hit me, I was hit with another thought. What am I doing here? I could so easily have taken a promotion and been working at a world-class hotel. Thank you, Jesus, for showing me that there is so much more to life than a 9-5 job.
And we haven’t even made it to our location yet.
We transferred onto another flight, from Doha to Kolkata, which was 5 hours long. I sat next to racers and fell asleep again. We were served a meal of either chicken curry or cottage cheese curry, and as I was eating, I thought, man, I wish this was the airline that they flew all around the world with this food. It was amazing. I was ecstatic to get my first Indian meal.
Apart from food, the other big difference so far has been cultural dress.
Leaving D.C., there was a lady in the security line ahead of me that was dressed to go abroad. She was completely covered in black from her head to her toes with only a slit in the cloth for her eyes. The security guard who checked her passport had her step into a corner so that she could lift up her face covering to verify that it was truly her passport picture. Since her, I have seen many women dressed very similarly. The most interesting dress I’ve seen so far for a man has been an elderly man dressed in white with a white turban. He was sitting cross-legged in an armchair with his eyes shut.
The other dress that stuck out to me was in the Middle East. Across the room from me, in a separate line to board the plane was a group of about 5 men who were completely in white with turbans, and my first thought was that they were the Taliban. It’s so strange because I’m used to seeing this only on the news or on the internet, but here I am, surrounded with a multitude of cultures.
Excuse me, I think I’m going to go to the bathroom and try out the squatty potty that has no toilet paper. More soon.
