Talk to Strangers

My Globalized lifestyle:

A nationless kid in the making

I don’t remember much about the first time I traveled alone, but I do remember it was a big deal. I had been to Hong Kong before with my parents to visit my grandparents, but I was even younger when that happened, so my memory of it, even more fabricated. I was an unescorted child, almost 3 years old, dressed sharply in my mismatched suit jacket and pant. The jacket was a plaid patterned red, white, beige and orange carnival. The pant was navy blue, and passed on to me after my elder brother was done with it. The clothes were ‘foreign’ made, so I looked doubly impressive. I remember it well, for I forgot it on the plane on the return leg of my world exploration. The world at the moment, ended for me in Hong Kong. For that was my grasp of how large the world truly was. So decked out in my sporting casual attire, some generic bag made in India in one hand, and a Chinese Lufthansa airhostess with a kind smile on the other, I waved goodbye to my worried mother, and my father, who at my age always seemed too busy to wave goodbyes. I was scared, would be an understatement. I had never flown alone before, short of my dad flinging me around a room as I impersonated the man from Krypton. When I was four, and braver, I broke my arm trying to jump of a table with my towel cape and tightie whities.

I don’t recall much of the airport, for at three, and heavily vertically challenged, you are nothing more than an expert on people’s knees. I enjoyed my Chinese escorts knees covered slightly by her skirt, but didn’t understand why. At thirteen, I did. Immigration, Check-in and all the other stops are a blur. Soon enough I was on the plane. I got a close look at it before we boarded, and it looked spectacular and large. The plane was probably the French Airbus A300 or similar, going by the kinds of planes Lufthansa used during the 1980’s. My escort explained how i ought to behave during the flight and then sat me on an aisle seat next to a Japanese man, who quickly befriended me by offering a piece of chocolate. Rule No. 1 for my parents was “don’t talk to strangers”. Rule No 1.1: “never eat anything a stranger offers you”. I guess because my friend offered me chocolate first and then spoke to me sort of made me comfortable in breaking parental authority. I had had rather an unmemorable time during take-off last year, and this year was no different. I spent the next 10 min. underneath my seat mingling with left over cracker snacks and other knick-knacks. My Japanese friend, who by now I knew as Mr. Miyagi, comforted me by speaking to me in a version of English I really didn’t understand. My English vernacular by itself was limited to mono-syllabic ‘yes’s’ and ‘uh-huh’s’, with a few multi-syllabic words, which were often just animal names such as hippopotamus or crocodile, so I wasn’t that surprised that I didn’t pick up on the Nippon-English accent. Yet, trying to figure out what he was saying allowed me to forget that we were taking off, and as soon as the plane leveled out, I was thirsty. I demanded the American icon of beverages, a Coca-Cola, and that too in a can. India at that time didn’t allow Coke in India, due to their secret recipe and ingredients. I had four of the little buggers, without ice, before I needed to go use the restroom. Indians aren’t big on the ice with cola thing. Probably because that way we can get more coke. Or maybe we don’t really trust outside water. In any case, I walked down the aisle to the restrooms, and upon entering it needed some expertise in figuring out cabin style bathroom. I approached a male steward for apparent reasons, and sought his aid in doing ‘su-su’, the polite way in which Indian kids refer to tinkling.

A quick nap, a crappy Bollywood movie set in Kashmir, and I was approaching Kai-Tak airport, the worlds toughest airport to land on. Trying to pear over Mr. Miyagi, eventually paid off, as he suggested switching seats with me. I got a glimpse of one of the most beautiful skylines, including the majestic Hopewell Center, the tallest building in Hong Kong at the time. After exiting the plane last, I went through another barrage of knee meeting check-points to finally be greeted by my grandparents, who welcomed me with a hug, and more importantly, Bumble Bee from the Transformers who quickly became my favorite toy for about two weeks.

The trip was fun. I realize now how I would grow to be a global kid, separated only by borders drawn on maps, but not culturally. I grew nationless traveling around the globe and trying to experience as much as I could. For me, being somewhere else was more important than being somewhere. I eventually learnt how to go do ‘su-su’ on airplanes by myself, but never really followed rule no.1; I always talk to strangers.

by Rathi

"that's me in red"