My trip to India...

Sunday evening I left for Mumbai... a working trip with Delta. Mumbai/Bombay... technically the same place. The thought of going to a new destination was exciting, but the amount of time on the plane daunting. Fifteen hours going over and sixteen hours coming back. I told the crew that I was a "virgin" and to break me in gently... LOL! When I got to the flight attendant lounge, I realized that I left my makeup bag home. All I had was face powder, black eyeliner and lipgloss. Oh well! I worked coach both ways... I knew that I had a mission once I got to Mumbai... I had to get my prescription drugs... they are much cheaper over there. I was too angry at my Duane Reade pharmacy when my co-pay for my Advair asthma meds was $50. I paid $25 in the pharmacy in Mumbai... and furthermore didn't need a prescription. I got Elidel cream and Zyrtec syrup for my son at such a nominal fee... all meds that I had to refill for him here. All I can say is that the pharmaceutical businesses here in the US are making a killing!

On the way back home, we had to divert to Newark airport for fuel because we had been in a holding pattern for so long looking to get clearance from Kennedy airport here in NY, but due to the horrible weather, not possible. Quite a number of passengers, mostly young males, were headed to the States to do their Masters studies... engineering, the majority. They were going to school all over... Iowa, Alabama, Texas... they had me chuckling. The other flight attendant and I were giving them tips to "life" in the US. I asked them if they weren't going to have arranged marriages. They said yes, although some didn't know who their spouse would be. I told them to save themselves and the girls heartaches by not getting seriously involved, only to return to India to marry someone else. This other guy was talking to me... quite Americanized... saying he was happy to be leaving Mumbai because he had to use so many products in his hair to tame it. (It was monsoon season there, so it was VERY humid and rained constantly)He said it would get big like an afro, which I took to mean frizzy. I told him "I know EXACTLY" what you mean, as I wore "Naomi" down and it started to get frizzy. You'll see what I mean in the pic below. I had to laugh when I say some of those Indian guys looking at me and smiling... probably thought I was a "darkie." I got that word from overhearing another one use it. HUMPH! I think I had objection to the word, to be quite frank. When I was on my way back home going through security in India... I saw a security girl that was like 5 shades darker than me with shiny, jet black hair pulled up. She coulda been my sister... my hair pinned up and all. I didn't really do too much in India as the rain was a big deterrent. The downpours had me soaking wet!!! UGH! I hate walking around in wet clothes. I will tell you this... this country from what I saw was poor. It's either you have it or you don't. Loads of people sleeping in the street... the buildings were like... I'll let you be the judge from the pic...

In front of the hotel...






The view from my window....





OK... forgot to give you the joke. I was working in the back with these two male flight attendants, both white, and one asked me if this was all my hair. Once again, I clutched my imaginary pearls and shrieked... he was gay, so he should have understood. LOL! He's like, "I know it's not a wig, because I see your scalp and it's flat on your head." I toss my head back in true drag queen fashion and asked, "Do you do drag? Do you want me to hook you up with some hair? If not, I can't divulge secrets. You NEVER ask a woman about her hair!" The other guy wasn't around during this conversation, but he was an older guy and my eagle eyes knew he was wearing a lace piece as hair replacement.... I told him about my conversation with his co-worker in regards to my hair. He was like, "He asked you that?" I told him that I sold lace wigs and do wear them,etc. He said he had a friend in the business who wanted him to invest and go in with him, but he didn't. I didn't come out and ask him about his own hair, because I just didn't need to. Then we started joking with each other... "Your lace is showing!" This meaning that you were acting up or acting an ass. We kept going back and forth... he was like, "You left some of your lace on the side of the sink in the lav!" OK, how would he know that if he wasn't a wearer? I would go to him, "I've got urgent news for you..." "What?" he'd reply.... "Your lace is showing!" It was funny! Names will not be mentioned to protect the innocent!