As most of you know, I travel a lot. And as most of you know, I do not suffer fools well. When the two come together, though, it can truly send me over the edge. On our return trip from Sri Lanka, we experienced levels of apathy and incompetence that would make even the likes of Nancy Pelosi blush!
Our journey home began with a 4-hour car ride through the hinterlands of Sri Lanka. Although it is only about 100 miles from the hotel to the airport, as I have said in an early post, the roads are small, crowded and generally slow. By the time we reached the airport, we were already exhausted.
Like in India, the Army stands guard at the door of the airport to ensure only ticket carrying passengers enter the hallowed halls. The guard lazily checked our papers and flagged us through to have our bags scanned and then to the check in counter. We quickly checked in and proceeded though passport control. Quick and easy - kudos to the Sri Lankan government on this process - they have India beat by miles.
We grabbed a quick coffee, passed through security and sat at our gate for roughly 40 minutes as the incoming plane was delayed due to, well most likely simply coming from India. We were then cattle-called for boarding. About 10 steps down the jetway, two tables were set up and Sri Lankan soldiers were going through everyone's bag. Now, we had been check entering the airport and we had been checked going through security, but apparently a third check was needed in case somehow we magically acquired something in the secure gate area. The real pisser was that the entire group of passengers had been waiting in a secure gate area for 40 minutes - might we have considered doing this whilst we waited, rather than holding up an already late plane? I had my bag checked and preceded to the plane.
I need to stop here and explain that that, like in India, every carry-on bag in Sri Lanka has to have a paper tag, the cheap paper nametags the airlines give out at the check-in desk, so that security can stamp it to show that you have been through security. In most airports, you get stamped as you pass through the general security, but in Sri Lanka, you get your stamp when the soldier goes through you bag in the jetway.
Anyway, I get to the door of the plane at the end of the jetway where another security guy checked my paper tag. The bag-searching soldier had apparently forgot to stamp my tag, so I now needed to go back up the jetway against the horde and have my bag stamped. Understand, I am at the plane end of the jetway and the soldier is a quarter of the way down the jetway. There is no possible way I could have materialized between the two security guys. The second guy was having none of this logic. I marched back up the jetway, against the flow of passengers, and asked the guy to stamp the tag. Without even looking up, he stamped it. So if I had materialized, no one was checking my bag anyway. Ugh! But with the stamp, I could board. As a side note, as I was coming back to the plane, a mob of passengers was making the same trek back to the stamp-negligent soldier. Apparently, no one told said soldier he need to stamp the tag.
We took off roughly 40 minutes late and headed to Chennai for our brief layover. According to our schedule, we had a little over an hour to wait in Chennai, but had to clear customs, get our luggage, recheck our luggage, pass through security and get the plane. All achievable in the allotted time, but we were no 40 minutes late. Luckily for us, the plane on which we were riding was the plane to Delhi, so it could not leave before we got there. What was unknown was the turn-around time needed.
The Chennai airport consists of two separate airports that are connected by a common gate area. You must leave the domestic building where you collect you luggage and re-enter into the international building to check in. We learned this on the way down. The interesting thing is that the parking spaces for the planes are the same, but the domestic travelers use the stairs and walk outside and the international passengers use the jetway. Same plane, same airport, same parking spot, but you must egress and ingress differently.
We deplaned and made our way to passport control. Here begins the series of truly nonsensical events that would plague the remainder of the journey. There are four open positions at customs, two for foreigners and two for Indians. This is the right amount. We get into one of the lines and quickly notice that the passport control officer is on his mobile phone. The custom guy is chatting with friends and family and he is half-looking at the passports and documentation being presented. I observe that his line is moving at about twice the rate of the others, as well. This guy is simply opening passports, finding an empty page and stamping without ever looking up. When it is our turn, he quickly finds an empty page, stamps and literally throws the passports on the desk without ever looking at the photo. This is Indian National Security!
Not to fear though, the opposite happens at baggage claim. As we near the baggage area, they have cleverly set up an x-ray machine to scan all carried-on (past tense) bags before you can enter the baggage claim area. Now, remember you have already been though three security checks in Sri Lanka and have actually flown on the plane. Seriously, you cannot make this up. I am at a loss for words. I can rationalize the 50 checks before you get on the plane, but I am a little skeptical of the terrorist that foregoes blowing up the plane to make his statement in the baggage claim area. But at least in Chennai, you can pick up you bags with the secure notion that you are protected from that guy!
We collect our bags and head out of the overly secure baggage area and drop our bags off with the pleasant Kingfisher attendants for re-checking to Delhi. We then exit the international airport and make the 100-foot walk to the domestic airport door. After passing though the crack security at the door that ensures we are not just loitering in the lobby with no ticket, we are confronted by a huge x-ray machine in the lobby. The machine is in kind of a stand-alone position in the center of the lobby. As well, it is manned by a fairly young boy being supervised by three older, less energetic men drinking coffee. We approach the machine and the boy takes our carry-on bags and proceeds to zip-tie the zipper. This is when I realize this may not be the right move. I tell him three times, that the bags are carry on, but he continues to zip-tie them until one of the men tell him in Tamil, the local language, not to continue. He hands us back us bags, albeit zip-tied. With time of the essence, we proceed to security.
In India, the Army runs the security in the airport, which, actually is not a bad idea considering the moron-squad we use in the US. But in India, I am convinced that these are the soldiers that are not fit for any other duty. These are the ones that failed even the test for infantry - "we are sorry, but you are deemed to stupid to run into enemy bullets." Time and time again, the apathy and stupidity of the Indian Airport Security Personnel amazes me.
So, we are in Chennai, and I put my bags into the screener. There are three people manning the machine: One helps you put your bags in the machine; one looks at the bags on the screen; and the third stamps your paper tag. The first got our bags into the machine. I assume the second one looked at them - although there are no guarantees. The third sat there coloring. Yep, his entire duty was to take a stamp and press it to the little attached tag. Failed! Of coarse, we did not know this until we tried to board the plane and the crack gate checker saw we had no stamp. The best part of this story is we went to a different security point and, like the boys in Sri Lanka, she never looked inside the bag, she just stamped it. The take away is that in Chennai, the baggage claim area is secure, but the plane full of people, not so much!
We boarded the plane and flew to Delhi for the final chapter of ridiculousness – The Indira Gandhi International Airport Baggage Claim. I have opined several times on the new airport in Delhi. Much nicer, much more modern and much better organized. They are, though, having an issue with the luggage. A few months ago, the big three Indian airlines moved 100% of their operations, both international and domestic, to the new terminal. This, I speculate, created a bit of overload and the baggage system melted down. The local newspapers have been covering this mercilessly, but until you experience it, you really cannot understand the extent of the idiocy.
Our plane arrived and the flight attendant announced to us that our bags would be coming out on belt 7. I, being a savvy traveler, double-checked on the baggage claim board and at the belt. Yep, belt 7 - flight 233 from Chennai. Then we waited … and waited. Finally, bags began to flow. As all savvy travelers do, I checked the tags as the first few bags emerge to make sure the right flight number is there so that I am in the right place.
The baggage claim area is divided into domestic and international by a glass wall. There are a handful of baggage carrousels on either side of the wall with a sliding door in between. Passengers, though, are not supposed to cross through this door, as the baggage security measures are different for each section.
As a check the tag on the first bag, it said CO82. Now, I know CO82, because that is the Continental flight I take from Newark to Delhi. The INTERNATIONAL flight from Newark New Jersey coming out on the domestic carrousel! The Continental bags continued to come out and predictably began backing up the line, as no one from the flight was there to remove them. I highlighted this small piece of obviousness to the Kingfisher baggage guy and requested that he organize a trolley to get these bags to their owners. He retorted that he could not, as he can only help Kingfisher passengers with their bags. Removing the bags would be the responsibility of Airport Operations. Hum? “Where might I find them,” I asked. He gingerly pointed toward an office in the back of the hall in which two men sat drinking tea. I approached them and explained the issue, but they could not have cared less. It had been well over an hour and my patience was running thin, so I thought I would take another approach. I must say, the capacity of mid-level, Indian bureaucrats to take a verbal beating is impressive. Only, when I threatened to go above their heads and identify them personally as the root cause of the problem did they move.
After another 30 minutes, the Continental bags were off the line and on their way to their frustrated owners, but not without me pointing out each bag as it passed to the dim-witted baggage handlers. Finally, the Kingfisher bags began to spew forth like a glorious luggage fountain and all was back to normal.
We grabbed our bags and headed home through the foggy Delhi night.
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