Flying Domestically inside of India

On Friday, we travelled from Chennai, formerly known as Madras (and, subject to verification, the place where St. Thomas, or Doubting Thomas, was martyred) to Pune, which is in the state of Maharashtra.

It was time to say goodbye to the hustle and bustle of Chennai, and I mean, wow.
Going through the security at the airport in Chennai was quite interesting. Before I even got to the ticket counter, I had to have my checked bag go through security screening device. I then had to get a special card for my carry-on and have that checked by another guard before I got on the plane.

Then I had to board a bus to take me out to the jet which was waiting on the tarmac. It was a little like those city buses which have multiple entries, cause there were two ladders to get onto the plane, one for the back of the plane and one for the front.

I was fortunate enough to get an exit row (always the best if there is no first class available – j/k), and I even got the aisle. That’s called “good living” folks.
Next to me sat “Gopi,” a 58 year old industrialist. We proceeded to chat for the entire flight to Pune. I asked him about the game of cricket, which is almost a religion in India. Gopi’s eyes lit up at this.

I was asking him these questions, and he very nicely said, “How about if I tell you about cricket, and then you can ask questions at the end?” He proceeded to tell me about the “Test Match,” the “One Day Match” and then the 4 hours match. I could go on, but I have something more interesting to share.
Well, you see, because we getting along so well, I decide
d to ask him a question that none of my American travel companions had any idea about.


Do you know what that does? Yeah, this is a men’s bathroom, and I am not entirely sure whether there is something similar in the women’s bathroom, but it is possible.

I thought I would ask Gopi about it.

Gopi’s answer surprised me a little bit. His explanation about the efficacy of this “tool” set me back a bit as well.

It seems that the Indians don’t always have toilet paper handy. Because many parts of India are suffering from poverty, they may not have toilet paper at all.
He said that after they did their business, they would use their left hand to clean things up. The trick, he said, was to have some water handy, something of a lubricant, I supposed. Thereafter, they could wash their hands and tidy up any “leftovers” from the squeegee action. (I was thinking to myself that it is entirely possible that in those places where no toilet paper is available, maybe soap and water are unavailable also).

He further indicated that with the modernization of India, more and more places had this annoying toilet paper in the commodes, and it made it difficult to get really clean (as with the water and the left hand squeegee).

As a compromise, they put the hoses and dishwasher kinds of nozzle next to the commode, so you can have a little water lubrication to assist with the squeegee action.

You then washed both of your hands and everything was just great.

It was wonderful to meet Gopi, and the flight was very pleasant. As it was time to say goodbye, I mildly agonized about whether to shake his hand or not (cause his story was told with much believe in how great it would be for the world if we didn’t have to waste our trees to make toilet paper).
Well, I did shake his hand, but by the time you see me to shake my hand, I will have washed it many times over.
Stayed tuned, more is coming (but Internet is a little flaky where I am, so please be patient. Trust me what I say it will be worth the wait).