Saturday, August 28, 2010

Out of India, Again

Let me preface this post with the fact that I thought I had posted this a week ago... Sorry! It was a busy week.

 When you live abroad, your local, international airport takes on a much more significant role than just an airport. You develop a love-hate relationship with the building, process and people. It offers you both the hope of escape and the unpredictability to take it away. This is even more intense when you live in a developing nation. 

At first, there is excitement about leaving your chosen country. You get to leave behind all the frustrations and annoyances of your everyday struggles with the hope of something better. Better may be just simply going home or better may be 10 days in the Maldives Island. Either way, it is better. The excitement, though, quickly turns to dread, because you know, as complicated as everyday life is, when you go to the airport, everything is intensified. If the government is corrupt, security and passport control becomes a game of survival. If the people are rude, then the lines to check in and at the gate become a fight to the death. If you must deal with inefficiencies each day, then get ready for delays of biblical proportions. It is just the way it is. India is no different and, in some cases, may serve as the model.

I arrived at the airport at 8:05pm. I know this because I now have been assigned a travel concierge to ensure that I am taken care of as I navigate the difficult world of the new Indira Gandhi International Airport or Terminal 3 to the locals (T3 if you are really in the know). He met me at the curb and was very insistent on wheeling my medium-sized bag to the Continental check-in counter 15 feet inside the door. We walked up to the serpentine that leads you to the check-in and he handed the bag back to me. Apparently part of the travel concierge job is not to actually help with the process, but to serve more as a companion through it. I checked in, filled out the appropriate baggage tags (again), received my ticket and exited. We then walked the 35 feet to the passport control where I filled out my form as he looked on and headed for the line. His job was done. As we departed, he gave me that Indian "where is my tip" look to which I have grown so accustom and so callous. If you want a tip, maybe you could pre-locate the check-in counter or at least meet me with some water. Any value-added service at all.  I honestly felt like I was being escorted and watched, rather than helped. .

I can say that check-in, passport control and security are all vastly improved in the new airport. It took less than 20 minutes from pulling up to the curb to clearing security. The Security lines now have state-of-the-art equipment and were actually organized and worked. Also, it seemed as if the operators had actually been trained.  A huge bonus is that Business Class passengers now have their own lines, so there are very few delays with having to deal with the junior varsity, family traveler.  I did spot one line with a giant back-up, so apparently the masochistic security people were still up to the their old tricks.

The new airport is also much nicer, much brighter and much better layed-out than the old one. There are restaurants, shopping and things are clearly marked. The Business Class lounge was also a huge upgrade from the old one with Wi-Fi and an actually buffet of recognizable foods. Best of all, they have now located it after security. Duh! The gate areas are also set up much better. You still have to go through the same duplicative screening, but these, again, are modern and well managed. They are also located at the entrance to the gate waiting area, rather than at the entrance to the jet way like the old ones.

All in all, my new hometown airport is light-years ahead of where the old one was. This makes me happy as it will serve as my portal to freedom for the next several years and it looks like it will be one less thing about which I will need to worry.

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