India and I

August 1 is when I flew into India from Kabul, Afghanistan. The Delhi International Airport I thought was amazing, until I came out and saw the taxi stand right outside the airport. I had to go to the domestic airport to get to Chennai but because of my fellow Afghan student missed the flight. He apparently put his residence permit, which we were suppose to show at the airport in order to get entry into the country, in his suitcase which was somewhere in the cargo.I helped him get a new permit and proved that we were students.It took us a while doing so and because of which we arrived late to the Domestic Airport, about 15 minutes. well to be honest it was not only the permit that took time, we also didn’t know what to do or where to go once we got entry into the country(the reason i didn’t know was that I didn’t show up for the meeting where we were suppose to get instructions for what to do or who to contact). after waiting for 25 minutes at the international airport I realized that I have tickets with me and that might tell me what to do next-my fellow Afghan couldn’t read English or Hindi and I could only read English- I forgot to mention that it was my first time on a plane and I didn’t really know how domestic and international flights work. After looking at my tickets I found out that I have a flight to another city, Chennai, from the domestic airport in Delhi.I got both of us a taxi and went to the domestic airport but we were an hour late. This meant that we were not flying anywhere tonight, and so I had to find a place to stay for the night. Before leaving for a hotel I booked our tickets for tomorrow.Came to the airport early next morning to make sure we don’t miss our flight again. That night I spent $120 to get a room somewhere close to the airport. Finally on the plane to chennai, my fellow Afghan again got the window seat like he has been getting through out the trip, and landed in Chennai in the afternoon.We walked out of the airport and I saw someone holding a piece of paper with our names on it and at that moment I just couldn’t hide my happiness, even though my name was spelled wrong, i was very happy. I walked up to the guy and shook his hand, my fellow Afghan asked me very surprisingly how in the world I recognized him? and I said, “well, he was holding a paper with our names on it.”


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