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Straight
Talk
The
Fear of Flying
Nadia
Kabir Barb
How
is it possible that a flight from London to Dhaka could cause
such soul searching and inner turmoil? Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating
a little, but it did have me wondering whether I had turned
into an unsociable, aloof and uncaring person or whether it
was a culmination of the fact that I was sitting in a confined
space with a few hundred people for over ten hours. The children
were as excited as ever at the prospect of going to Bangladesh
and I was looking forward to a month of being home with family
and friends. Once I had herded my children onto the plane,
we discovered that someone had already made themselves comfortable
in one of our seats and I had to point out that it was necessary
for us to be seated together as I was travelling with three
young children. Luckily, she was rather sweet and asked if
she could sit in the aisle seat where my elder daughter was
supposed to sit. Before I could intervene my daughter offered
her seat and sat in the middle with the lady on one side and
another elderly gentleman on her other side. Finally we were
settled into our seats and, armed with paper and colouring
pencils, the children immersed themselves into creating unique
works of art.
A
few hours into the flight and I realised that my carefully
laid plan was starting to unravel. The kids had not, as I
had hoped, fallen fast asleep after lunch and were, on the
contrary, wide-eyed and loquacious. So I resorted to plan
B, which was for all of us to put our headphones on and do
something as mindless as watching a movie to help us get through
the next couple of hours. However, even Pierce Brosnan and
Julianne Moore could not hold my attention for too long. I
was distracted by a child sitting one row away from me cuddling
a plastic doll that looked like it should have been in a horror
film and talking to it in a voice loud enough for half the
plane to hear. "Appu, tumi khabey?" "Appu
tumi onek sweet." Yes she was having a conversation
with her doll and squeezing its cheeks and turning to her
fellow passengers and insisting that they give the rather
grubby and sinister looking doll a kiss. I looked on in a
mixture of fascination and horror. It was sweet that she was
attached to her doll but her behaviour started taking on an
obsessiveness that was rather scary! I sank deeper into my
seat praying that I was not going to be the next victim and
made to cuddle or kiss "Appu"!
Later
when the credits were being shown on the screen I noticed
that two of my children looked like they were about to have
the long awaited nap. But even with the lights dimmed, it
was like sitting in the middle of New Market. People were
walking up and down the aisles, bumping into the seats, having
long conversations with passengers sitting a few rows away
and children were being passed from one parent to another
to be pacified. I could feel my air of calm slipping away
and falling far below us and landing somewhere in the Middle
East with a crash. Even a few years ago I would answer as
politely as I could the rather personal questions being directed
at me and make small talk with my fellow passengers. But now
all I wanted to do was ask them to sit in their seats and
keep the noise down like some neurotic teacher.
The
kids then decided that it was too noisy to sleep and my little
one wanted to visit the bathroom. She took one look inside
and commented on its lack of cleanliness, to put it mildly.
Why is it that some people can't even use the toilets properly?
Plus the fact that the majority of the passengers on this
flight were mainly Bangladeshis wasn't helping.
Sadly,
cleanliness does not seem to be one of our strongest traits.
As I waited with my daughter, we watched the lady next to us
taking the drinks and snacks on offer. I watched with dismay
as she loaded her arms with as much as she could and told her
son to do the same. In fact, it seemed to be the norm rather
than the exception as people were constantly going to the galley
and taking five drinks per person and as many biscuits as they
could carry! No wonder the airline attendants were putting the
snacks out with caution as they had to make the snacks and drinks
last for the remainder of the flight. What I was thinking was
that a) it was downright greedy, b) what kind of example was
she setting for her son, teaching him to grab as much as possible
just because it was free, and c) what kind of impression do
we give people by behaving in such an uncivilised manner? Am
I being too harsh? Possibly, but at some point free does not
mean freeloading! The flight was finally over and I heaved a
sigh of relief and walked off the plane. Trust me, when you
have three kids and hand luggage, running to get to the front
of the queue is just not an option. The saying "never
count your chickens till they're hatched" kept popping
up in my head as I stood at the back of the queue at passport
control. I really believe that even if they tried, the line
could not have moved any slower. I felt as if I was watching
things in slow motion. Forty-five minutes later when I was
almost at the front of the line, an airport official asked
me to go to a counter that was empty. As I showed the man
at the counter my passport, he asked quite rudely why I had
not stayed in my queue and that he couldn't see my passports
because they weren't Bangladeshi and I was standing in the
queue for people with "Bangladeshi Passports". Have
any of you seen the Incredible Hulk? Apart from the size and
colour, I could have been his stunt double. I figured that
committing homicide would not get me out of the airport any
faster so I told him as frostily as I could that the lady
before me had a foreign passport, the official had asked me
to move and lastly, if he didn't let me through I would let
three tired and hungry children loose on him (okay, exaggerating
again)! Well, he relented and typed our details into the computer--with
one finger, of course.
At long last I could see the light at the
end of the tunnel -- actually, what I could see in my minds
eye was food, sleep, family, sleep…Oh yes, I saw the
girl with "Appu" - I swear she gave me
a look and so did "Appu". (At this point
you should hear scary music in the background).
Copyright
(R) thedailystar.net 2004
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