Monday, August 31, 2015

A bientot et au revoir Paris

I spent my last day/night in my apartment in Paris, a romantic city for many, by myself re-packing and doing some last minute apartment cleaning to pass the final exam of the rental agency and feel the next tenant welcomed. 

The last evening and night was calm and peaceful. Hope I don't sound like a death row convict waiting to be executed the following morning? I didn't have the pangs of doing a final walk on Champs Élysées, a quick run to enjoy the night charm of Sacre Coeur or taking line 9 from my place in Oberkampf to Alma Marceau to catch a final glimpse of the shimmering Eiffel Tower, the most popular attraction in Europe. 2.5 years is a considerable period of time to fall in love, make memories and I didn't need any last minute fixes.


I had already finished my farewell lunches and dinner with those who helped me make this city my home for over 24 months, and my last visit was to thank Ganesha at La Chapelle. 
My return back from the U.S. was just in time to participate at Fetes du Ganesh, and take his blessing for my next sojourn.  

In a less than 7 hours, I will hand over my apartment key and I will become a homeless for 8 hours before the flight takes me back home with my memories and 4 suitcases. I organized my last day kit consisting of a set of old clothes and things that can discarded after the last use, 3 months ago. 
Some call it OCD while others call it the trait of a Virgo, but nevertheless, it helps to be organized.

Service termination notices were the most difficult and annoying about living in Europe. I had to send in a letter written in French to three services that kept me healthy and happy: UGC Cinema, Gym subscription, and Telephone through registered post informing them of my termination two months in advance. The receipt of acknowledge is  considered as a proof of acceptance of termination. 

Considering this is my 13th move in 18 years, I don't have a lot material possessions and every time I add something to my traveling collection (museum), I must part with something. Yesterday, I dumped an old and comfortable shoe that was made in China, purchased in the U.S. and journeyed with me to 12 European countries, before being dumped here. It was replaced by another comfortable one, whose birth I know, but not is end. The manufacturing world and humans may hold the birth certificate and that may come with a limited warranty, but life controls the end and keeps everyone guessing.

I may come across as a ruthless person in a way, because I consume, handle and dispose responsibly. 
Sometimes I am hesitant to make new friends because I already have many to attend and care for. I even put together a welcome kit for the next occupant: detergent, toileteries, kitchen essentials and fresh towels, apart from a squeaky clean apartment. I know it all sounds like the law of conservation of mass, but without this approach I will be moving a home with me every time and the world will be exploding with people and their material possessions.

A dozen of my close friends visited me in Paris. I had the pleasure of discovering the city again with them and build memories to cherish and savor for life. For those of you who couldn't make it to Paris, including my parents and siblings, get ready to visit me at my next destination. You may also catch up on my rumblings and ramblings from the past and follow me around the world for future updates.

I wish I knew where life was going to take me next, but for now I'm headed to the city where I was born and lived for 25 years, and which I always call it my home, Chennai. 

As my friend says even Paris has to be used and returned in a good condition for the next visitor to enjoy. A beintot et au revoir Paris. Get ready Chennai.

Wednesday, August 26, 2015

Revisiting the Best Time Ever!

If you want to learn more about a city and its history, walk by the river and if you want learn about a person travel with him/her. My next stop is at a city that has risen from ashes like a Phoenix bird and a city where I lived briefly 17 years ago. 

What is a better way to rewind memories, do a now and then and share your stories from living in the city than taking a river cruise? And sometimes what keeps us rooted to a city is our friends; they fill and build our memories and also bring along new friends who in turn strengthen your connect and establish their own equation with the city.


Past and present meets and plans for future
My friend Stephanie and I have a shared past; we lived in same cities, did vacations together, our journeys of life have been similar and probably that is what makes people speculate if we are a couple. It happened when we tested beds together at Home in Bangalore, and a year later when we went into surgery and recovery and since then we've been meeting up in different continents and countries each year making lush memories. 


This time around she drove 6 hours to pick me up at the Midway airport in Chicago, planned our breakfast at Hyatt followed by a river cruise to enjoy the architecture of the city. The deep dish pizza and frozen lemonade from Giordanos at Navy Pier against the backdrop of Lake Michigan inspired us to put together our travel plans for this winter.

Now and then
When I did the river cruise organized by the Chicago Architecture Foundation along the Chicago river, I realized the changes the city has gone through since 1998. Today, the city's skyline is replaced with stronger and taller buildings like the Trump Tower, the old warehouses being turned into condos and celebrities like Oprah Winfrey who then lived in one of the high rises overseeing Lake Michigan have vacated. But then my guardians who nurtured me and made me feel a part of their family continue to live and nourish the city.


Should I call them my friends or should I call them my guardians is still an unanswered question from 1998. In some ways were more than friends and in some ways they are guardians. When I landed here in the winter of 1997, Panch Anna picked me up at the airport, made me feel at home with his vethakozhambu and carrot curry. In a world where people are hungry for wifi passwords more than food, Priya Akka continues to be a doting host who finds her way to your heart through your stomach and retains her Indianess and Indian values despite living far away from home.


Today, I am reminded of my graduate school days when I meet his 17 year old son who is now getting ready for college. Life seems to have gone too fast, at least mine. In 1998, I visited them on the weekends, was introduced to their friends and also invited to join them on trips. I always consulted him before I made big decisions and informed him of my moves. Now you should know why I feel difficult to answer the question: friends or guardians?

Does time alter character of a city? 
The beauty of a city can be altered by the architects, time can dull the beauty, but the character depends on the inhabitants. When I emailed Tanu Akka a few months ago sharing my inkling to visit them in Chicago her spontaneous response made me instantly scout for tickets. She is one the most large hearted, funny, honest and opened minded human I've ever seen in my life and though she is young, her qualities remind of my grandmother. 


I felt protected when came home with Shiva Anna the other day, exactly the same feeling that I had when l came home with him from graduate school on alternate Friday's. Does this help you answer my proverbial question: friend or guardian? Today, Shiva Anna and Tanu Akka are proud parents of two lovely twin angels: Anupama and Nirupama, but doesn't mean affection and love for others are rationed.



During one of my weekends visits 17 years ago, I was introduced to Arul Anna and Anitha Akka and a few years ago when we met them at Park Pod, Chennai for lunch it was not difficult to pick up the thread from where we left. A few nights ago when I stopped by her place, she spontaneously came up with an idea of a potluck to celebrate my visit to Chicago. Turning a weekday night into a weekend night? Very audacious! Tonight, when I go over to their place for dinner I plan to ask Anitha Akka how she manages to still look like a college student making me feel old like the dilapidated warehouses along the river?

There are two more people (Kadhar Anna and Raghavan Anna) who I won't be able to meet this time, but my gratitude humbly stands tall unlike the Trump Tower. These gentlemen moved me lock, stock and barrel from Chicago to Kalamazoo, Michigan on a late Sunday evening in the spring of 1998.

Le vieux amis et les vieux écus sont les meilleurs
17 years is a long enough for a river to change its course, a city to change its skyline, an infant to become an adult and memories to fade away, but Le vieux amis et les vieux écus sont les meilleurs: The old friends and the old ecus are the best. [Écus are old French coins].

I am reminded of my grandmother who says kids and gods must be celebrated and I am adding these dear ones that list. But then, I am pondering, how am I going to repay them for their kindness and unadulterated affection? For now, I will celebrate them and head back home with refilled memories.


Tuesday, August 25, 2015

Paneer Rasam: A warm welcome

It is a tradition in India to welcome our guests by sprinkling Rose Water aka Paneer. When I visited Narasimhan, my dear friend and his wife at Minnesotta I wasn't expecting a Rose Water welcome, but they found another way to incorporate it to make me feel special and leave another lasting impression. But before I tell you how creatively he used Rose Water let me share with you on how various cultures have incorporated them in their cuisines.


The Persian and Middle Eastern cuisine use Rose Water in sweets such as nougat, gumdrops, raahat and baklava. In Iran, it is added to tea, ice cream and cookies and in India and Pakistan, it finds it way as a flavoring agent in lassi and jelabi. In Malaysia and Singapore, it is used to make a sweet drink called Bandung. Rose water is also frequently used as a hala substitute for red wine and other alcohols in cooking. The American and European bakers enjoyed the floral flavoring of rose water in their baking until the 19th century when Vannilla became popular.

Narasimhan is a very creative guy who adapts, incorporates and fuses various local and global elements to build his world. Last Sunday, I made a trip with him to Home Depot and he was on a mission to build an altar at his place for the upcoming festival time and create something similar to what he had back in India. He showed me pictures of his earlier prototypes and I was impressed by his originality and craftsmanship, and had no doubts that this creation would be any less impressive. Trying to choose the right material, and being able to adapt, and quickly alter the material to get the desired output was his forte. 

Sometimes I wonder if he is in the wrong profession, but nevertheless he does everything with at most commitment and conviction. A few years ago, when my mom was away and when we had a religious gathering at home he came over to lend me a helping hand and won the hearts of all the guests (elderly people). 

Last Saturday, when he gave me a choice of menu I was both intrigued and salivating. In fact, I told him not to spend time in the kitchen, and instead go out and find something quick and healthy to eat. 

I was intrigued because his menu for the day was elaborate and salivating since it reminded me of a typical South Indian menu: Small onion vethakozhambu, pudina thogayal (chutney), Paneer rasam, Potato fry, and Chow chow kootu. The hob was busy with a few pans and pots going at the same time and he turned down my offer to be his apprentice. But I poked my head into kitchen to watch and learn a few tips from this uncrowned Tambrahm Chef. And what got me out of my seat and into the kitchen was the Paneer rasam: A pleasant smell with spicy taste.

So, when I asked hi how it is made, he was brief like an expert. He replied, "it is paruppu rasam without Hinge aka Asafetida and add Rose Water at the end like how you make Lemon Rasam. This quick reply is difficult to follow for those who don't know how to make paruppu rasam and lemon rasam. 

Here are the steps:

1. Add tamarind water, a few tomatoes, necessary salt, rasam powder and bring the mixture to boil.

2. Add cooked Toor dal once you catch the waft of boiled rasam powder in the vapor and turn down the flame to medium heat and let the pot simmer for 5-7 mins.

3. Turn off the flame and add Rose Water. Add tempered mustard in ghee and garnish with finely chopped coriander leaves to the rasam.

The kitchen and the dinning room was soon filled with the aroma of Rose Water. Isn't this a novel way to welcome your guests than the cliched sprinkling of Rose Water? That weekend I had multiple servings of Panner rasam and I found the aroma and taste to be better on the following day. 

Finding your way to your guest's heart through their stomach is easy if you are an expert. But if you aren't an expert, just copy the recipe, welcome your guests and earn your stars and stripes. 


Monday, August 24, 2015

US: Light Years Ahead of Europe

There may be a six hour time difference between Europe and the U.S., but in terms of efficiency and customer service, the U.S. is light years ahead of Europe. 

After living in Paris for over 2.5 years and traveling to over a dozen countries in Europe, I find a sharp contrast between the two continents wrt consumer behavior. And on this trip to the U.S. the contrast was more visible on customer service and efficiency brought about my market forces and capitalism. A simple point in case would be my travel to multiple locations and seamlessly moving between various services from airlines to ground transportation to convenience stores.

Cost and Flexibility
Europe may beat its chest with pride when it comes to public transportation system, but in the U.S. services like Uber are making travel quicker, cheaper, more efficient and providing flexible employment opportunities. When I am writing this blog I am ignoring the unclean and air condition-less RER B train service from Paris Charles de Gaulle airport to the city center, while remembering the protest by Cab drivers and unions in France and Germany that eventually shut down Uber. 

When I got chatty with the Uber driver I learnt that he was driving for a few hours on  weekday nights to pay off his college loan faster. While Capitalism is often blamed for being ruthlessly competitive, but in this case we see it driving costs down and bringing flexibility to both parties (users and drivers). 

Full Service vs. Low Cost
European skies have half-a-dozen low cost airlines like Ryan Air, Vuelling, German Wings etc. owned by airlines such as Lufthansa, British Airlines, but there is very little difference in service between full-service and low cost airlines. 

I travelled on SouthWest Airlines when I hopped between various cities in the U.S. What made a big difference despite screening paranoia at airports is the efficiency and convenience from booking flights to changing itinerary, checking in baggage at the self-service kiosks, getting prompt reminders, updates, and boarding passes added to the Passbook feature on the iPhone. Despite being a low cost airline, the crew (average age of 45 plus and may be paid less?) were on their toes to serve customers with a  pleasant smile, showing off their funny and friendly side. They offered multiple rounds of refreshments (coffee, sodas, juices, peanuts and pretzels) without fretting or frowning and their web-based in-flight entertainment carried a good collection, almost nonexistent in all of the European carriers.

And My Last Dipstick
I was at Best Buy looking for a Chromecast stick to project from my mobile and tablet devices on to the big screen. My friend's wife found a difference of a six dollars in price when compared to other brick and mortar and web-based retailers. The staff at BestBuy came forward to do a price match, something non-existent in Europe.

While on the early morning flight today, I kept asking why is Socialism falsely protecting human interests, fueling inefficiencies and creating a sense of entitlement in the minds of people? 

Tuesday, August 18, 2015

The third P of my life

So, were you sleepless thinking about where the magic carpet is headed or were you trying to look under the carpet? Sharing with you the 3rd P of my life: Paris, Providence and Ptown. Aha, don't be jealous I will give you a key hole view and relax, you don't need to prepare to go with us in this trip. Let's make a promise: what happens in Ptown stays in Ptown. Ok? 


Cape Cod on the map looks like a vestigial organ, but seldom do people realize vestigial organs have a purpose - no pun intended. It takes a little more than 2.5 hours to drive from Providence to Provincetown,  the Candyland and on the way we picked up some moral lubricants and texted other friends to join us. 


We checked into a room overlooking the deck and my friend calls it a sky-box view. As a hospitable host, we filled the cooler with ice and beer and laid out the liquor on the table. Here is the crew the party hard crew. 

Wild Wild West
If there is something that I haven't done in my college days is being a part of a fraternity, (a few things are understated here) and dance like a crazy animal. And 20 years later, my dreams come true: thanks to Colin and Marc. 


The Boatslip Resort organizes a tea dance party every day between 4-7 pm and even the waves retreat and stay away from the party birds. The flamingos arrive at 4 pm looking to shake their wings and build their nest. If haven't danced in a while watch to this inspirational video
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=ylTltFMawao that will make you dance without t-shirts, and that is the only way to cool down.


Retail therapy
I tossed my routine out of the window to live the life of a 20 year old. I didn't wake up for my exercise, didn't visit the supermarket to fill my refrigerator, and mostly importantly underline didn't check my emails or worry about home or work. And whenever I wake up there is breakfast followed by some retail therapy before getting ready for the flamingos descend on the deck for another dance.

Though many in Europe don't sport t-shirts, but in the U.S. it is comfort clothing and can be called a national costume. And finally I broke my 2-year promise and engaged in some retail therapy. At Coffey's the store owner was willing to turn photographs into a belt and I found a picture on my phone taken in Portugal last year that I turned into a snazzy belt. 

Sun, sand and swim
After the dance and shopping we all needed to cool down and my friend recommended some sun, sand, and swim. The sand was warm and the water was cool and we stepped off the carpet and dived into the ocean like Dolphins growing waves of fun.


Just as I finished this blog my friend said I need to have more fun with my 3Ps before get on my 4th, Pension. 

40 is the new 20, don't your agree? Sometimes life does offer you a second chance and surprisingly you get what you ask for: vacation, fun, memories and I hit the super-size button and here I am. Come back soon for more from under the carpet.



Saturday, August 15, 2015

Feeling loved at 40!

It has been just a week and I already feel that I have been sitting on the magic carpet and going around and meeting many of my ex-colleagues and friends. This is why I don't do farewells. Though time and distance separates us, but every time we meet again to discover that time and distance only strengthens our friendship. Didn't matter how many years after we meet, life and friendship is all about making memories that will help us survive tough days and keep us alive until our next meeting. Don't you agree?



Lisa and I worked together at my first job 17 years ago, I was 23 years then. According to her my only wild side was driving like a maniac, but nevertheless she still remembers our trips to Garden City Mall, her first visit Gap store with me, and trips to the local super market. I often went to Subway to get my lunch and I often called her desk to ask if she would like to have a 6' or foot-long for lunch. Sometimes I would punctuate my question with a smile and she picked up the pun and joined me for lunch, but not before calling me a bastard.

While some of them opened their hearts to me, and others opened their homes making me feel special, cared, and loved. 


Senthil came all the way to Providence to bring me back to his place in Newtown, Connecticut. The 90 minute drive was enough for us to catch up on our lives and we even heard two songs and replayed it multiple time for its lyrical value.  Meghan Trainor - https://youtu.be/7PCkvCPvDXk and Taylor Swift - https://youtu.be/e-ORhEE9VVg

He is as smooth as Saint Joseph, a French Wine. At 40, he acts and behaves like 20, a high-voltage live-wire and a bundle of happiness. I saw the mother hen in him come live the next morning when he made me a doggy bag for my journey back home, I saw the mother-hen in him come alive. 


And then when I get back to Providence, RI my friends Colin and Marc give me a house filled with food, a recliner and their Netflix account, a BMW to drive around and also include me in their vacation plans to Province Town. How cool is that? Isn't this a perfect vacation. I am not on Facebook to do a count, but nevertheless this trip is a validation of my friendship balance at 40. I feel so rich, a celebration of single-hood. May be I should go back to the immigration officer in Boston to tell him why I am single and rich.

I couldn't meet a few other ex-colleagues and friends since our schedules couldn't match, but nevertheless I will get an another opportunity to write about them. Come back next week to find out where else the magic carpet takes me to and who else I get to meet on this journey. Life happens at 40!

Monday, August 10, 2015

From Calorie Shock to Culture Shock

Big cities give you a culture shock as much as calorie shock. After an exciting three days in Boston and NYC, I am retreating to Elmwood avenue, Providence, Rhode Island where I will chew the cud and ponder over what I've seen and heard. People and experiences can be electric(k)!

FYI: pondering helps you neutralize both kinds of shocks though zooming in and out of a city can consume your resources: memory and charge.

Two acts that's I witnessed in NYC drowned the noise from speeding police cars, honking taxis, and loud sirens from fire trucks. The first one that I witnessed was at the end of Brooklyn Bridge where a bunch of young, and ribbed black men were busy entertaining the tourist crowd. I thought this was pretty similar to the song and dance that I've seen on Champs-Élysées and almost walked away from them, but one of my friends decided to watch the show and got us hooked on to them.

In a city were the rich paid money to watch glamorously choreographed shows on the Broadway, the jobless black youth often looked down upon as trouble makers brilliantly engaging the audience. They passionately narrated their story with wit and pun and through song, dance and dialogue. And by drawing a representative from every nationality from the surrounding crowd they highlighted the minority status and need to acknowledge diversity. Though one may argue that this is all organized and choreographed, but to keep a 500 strong audience engaged on the banks of East Side River needed passion and persuasion. Watch this video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jWwghTckkY0

The second act was on metro line 4 during my travel from Brooklyn Bridge to Union Station. A short black man with a plastic basket boarded the train in one of the in between stations. Though he was drowned in a clean shirt, a few sizes bigger than him, but then his loud voice and persuasive speech drowned people around him. I know you may quickly jump in to call this an organized racket, but then let's hear his call out.

Given that America is in the middle of the presidential debate season and to hear unpolitical and passionate speech was rare. The man carried a few packed deli sandwiches and bottles of iced tea with him and asked those who are hungry to come forward and help themselves. He further kept their attention by announcing that he was not hungry and homeless anymore. What helped make this transformation and why is he an advocate supporting basic human needs.

The man excused himself for raising his voice, didn't budge to his nagging cough and made a plea heard to a larger audience. He represented a Soup Kitchen from one of NYC Burroughs and pulled out a photocopied brochure to explain about the organization that provides food, shelter, vocational training, placement and counseling services, etc. and asked his co-passengers to look them up on the web and make some donations. What a passionate sales guy asking people to open their hearts and wallets and what a voice and face spreading the philosophy of Soup Kitchen on the metro where manspreading is a menace.

While almost all of us work for money and most of us forget our struggles and values that we represent and believe in, the short black man standing tall genuinely and passionately made a call to end hunger pangs in NYC and group of young black men narrated their struggles against white supremacy through a street play. Where did the rich and fair skinned go astray in the journey of mankind? 

It is time for you to chew cud now. Let's touch base in a few days. 

Europe vs. the U.S.


If there was no thing that I didn't have to do while in the U.S. is to mentally convert from Euros to US dollars. Unfortunately, the parity may have been reached in terms of the currency, but then I have to watch what I eat since most meals are super-sized and sugar was stealthily sneaked into very possible food. I also want to age without any health issues or upping my risks for cancer or cardiac issues.

Food trap
I was at the Food Emporium on the 42nd street and I closed my eyes and gave a miss to all the processed food arranged at the entrance to enslave and entrap visitors. I diligently rushed to the refrigerated section to pick up a Greek yogurt, a healthy salad with quinoa and pecans, a platter of freshly cut fruits and reached the billing counter in a few minutes. Anyone who doesn't have a strong will to eat healthy was sure to be trapped in the unhealthy aisles that sold hundred varieties of sugar loaded breakfast cereals, and processed foods with high salt and trans-fat apart from liquor and cigarettes. 

Though Europe may not offer you as many great choices as the US wrt cuisines and dietary needs such as vegan, vegetarian, gluten-free, but has a stronger self-control to regulate portion sizes and get moving. This statement of mine is only true if physical appearance was used as a primary tool for comparison.

Prozac nation
NYC is the best example of consumerism in the U.S.: unlimited, neurotic and unending. From cabbies, food carts, bars, restaurants, clothing stores selling super sized clothes to overflowing garbage cans, we can never be sure which one of this is the starting point for obesity. But one of my friends always says unhealthy eating is an emotional disorder and the underlying unresolved emotional issue is often substituted with food.


Thinking about the unhealthy Americans, my friends and I set out on a brisk walk to go up and down the Brooklyn bridge and at the same time get a spectacular view of the city. As the French say, Il fait beau: blue sky, temperature in the lower 20s and the cool breeze over the Hudson River made it a sweat-free experience. 

Another difference between Europeans and Americans is their level of physical activity. European cities by design had well developed public transportation that discouraged driving and encourage its citizens to take the public transport system. I could rarely see people cycle, rollerblade or walk to work in the U.S. 

Man up vs. Superman
If I were amazed by love locks on Parisian bridges, I was amazed by bras fluttering like national flags on the Brooklyn Bridge. Is this a sign of personal freedom? 


I often mention to my Parisian friends that European men need to man up and stop dressing up in skin fits and acting like ramp-walk models who survive on Tic-Tac, cigarettes and water. But after watching the obesity epidemic or the Superman syndrome in the U.S., I may start appreciating Europeans for their skinny appearance and exercise, but not for getting into skin fits.

But then America is far superior to Europe when it comes to friendliness and customer service. Is this behavior driven by consumerism? Is obesity directly related to economic prosperity? Let me take another walk to answer this question for you. 



Sunday, August 9, 2015

It all begins in Boston


May be I should have worn my 'More tress Less Assholes' t-shirt to give a fitting reply to Immigration officer at the Boston Airport. Certainly the next time. After an eventful face-to-face with the border security in Boston, I took an Uber cab from the airport to Copley Square to stay at one of Americas Historic Hotels where our vacation would begin. 

was reminded of the Big dig project as I went through the tunnel, which was still in progress when I left the city in 2003. Though referred to as 'Taxachusetts', the state of Massachusetts had good roads in today's America with crumbling infrastructure. 


The weather was perfect: cool with a low humidity for a summer night. I joined my two friends who had already checked-in at the Fairmont property at the Copley Square overlooking the Trinity Church and Boston Public Library. Since we were on the Gold Floor, thanks to my friends who are Gold members with this chain, we had the privilege to order breakfast in our room. We made a quick choice of our breakfast and left it hanging on our door before we set out to enjoy Boston's night life. 

It sounds like bed and pillow talk, but I must confess that I've never had such a comfortable bed and a night's sleepever in my life. Ok, may be my mother's tummy may have been equally comfortable. It felt like I was sleeping on a cloud and next morning I woke up feeling refreshed with no trace of tiredness or fatigue from either the 8 hours transatlantic flight or from the 6 hour time difference. 


And when Alex, the hotel staff rolled in our breakfast and set it up at the foot of our beds, I felt I was in a Royal Suite. A blueberry banana smoothie, eggs with sunny side up and a fresh prune juice along with the weekend edition of NYTimes made me feel in heaven. America is all about celebrating life, wait I forgot to say life is super-size here.

Earlier that morning, I was awake before the rest and I set out on a walk to explore the downtown area. I stepped into a CVS pharmacy and I was surprised to see how many choices I had for a simple toothbrush and a cereal bar. What surprised me more was the self-checkout kiosks. Is it because I like human contact or is it simply because I'm aging? I came back to the room amazed by how Modern America had replaced humans with automated kiosks.



Don't know if it is Boston or the breakfast, we quickly whipped up a plan to leave for NYC, where life is unlimited, neurotic, and unending. So, follow me and catch up with me if you can. 

Saturday, August 8, 2015

Air France: The World's Worst Airline

Despite more and more people traveling by air, we see airlines filing for bankruptcy and struggling to remain profitable. Though it is often blamed on taxes and higher fuel costs, but in reality its success depends on how fixed/legacy costs and assets are being managed. 
Source: http://freakonomics.com/2011/06/24/why-do-airlines-always-lose-money-hint-its-not-due-to-taxes-or-fuel-costs

With a few exceptions, why do government run airlines often have poor service uniformly across the world? Is it because they operate on a low cost model: pay less to employees and as a result poor service? Or is it because they are not professionally run? 

My recent travel on a transatlantic Air France flight made me ask this question again. Having traveled Air France before, I had booked myself on Delta, but I never knew these two had a code sharing agreement in place, until a few weeks ahead of the journey when I called them to check on the baggage restrictions and pre-select my meal plan.

It is a world known fact the French lack service ethics and etiquettes, and after having lived in Paris for over two years, I should know this better than many others on that day's flight. While living in Paris, I had my own set of plumbers, carpenters and lock-smiths of Indian origin (from Pondicherry) who showed flexibility and professionalism.

A few surprises
My earlier check-in experiences with Jet Airways and Air France code sharing flights was poor. But this time, when I tried to check-in 24 hours before the journey on Delta Airlines site, I was promptly redirected to Air France site. I was surprised how seamless it was moving from the website of a private airline to a government run airline. Is it the only seamless travel on this journey?

On the day of the journey, airlines normally send a reminder message on the flight timings and update if there are any delays. Surprisingly, I never got a reminder message despite leaving my mobile number with the airline. When I got to the airport 3.5 hours before, I was in for another surprise: self check-in at the counter. Passengers had lined up behind a dozen kiosks trying to try their luck like in the Casinos. Looking at the line and how they struggled to get do the self check-in, I appreciated myself for being early. 

I followed the procedure on the touch screen kiosk to the best of my ability, but some steps were ambiguous. It wasn't clear if I had to scan my visa or just the front page of the passport, and when I called the ground staff for help, she conveniently skipped that step like a student who skipped questions during exams because of unpreparedness. Later that evening, I discovered where this could possibly raise the alarm bell.

I still had 150 mins when I got to the gate, and the 2E terminal at Charles de Gaulle looked swanky. I had arrived much ahead of others and there was no competition for the seats near the boarding gate. I pulled out my iPad and tried to connect to the Airport Free-wifi and was pleasantly surprised when I discovered that connectivity was unlimited, despite slightly slow browsing speed. 

I managed to kill 120 mins toggling between The Hindu, Times of India and NYTimes. In between I requested my neighbor to watch my bag and made a trip to the nearest cafe to get a fresh salad and a cup of yogurt. Did I have a premonition that the airline meal was going to be pathetic? But aren't the French connoisseurs of food and Michelin stars chefs?

Are they new to their job?
Let me not jump ahead,start with boarding. Usually gates remain unmanned until 30 mins before boarding, and that was also the case today. I was expecting the half-dozen educated and trained staff at the boarding gate to give clear instructions on where to queue up for business and economy class. But they seemed to be in a holiday mood more than passengers.

Blame it on anxious passengers or their in-built self-discipline, they began to queue up in the absence of any instructions and the plasmas continued to lie: l'embarquement 18:30 hours. And they continued to show the same even at 18.45. Seeing many responsible passengers approach the staff, they had no option but to make an announcement about the delay in boarding, which kept moving every 10 mins by 15mins. 

I can understand delays, but how about professionally handling passengers by giving clear instructions and keeping them relaxed and well-informed. At one point, a portion of the vertically standing queue turned into a horizontal queue. Minus flith, the airport pretty much looked like train station in an developing country. 

Is Samsung targeting an Apple loyalist?
Soon the noise levels in the airport buried the instructions given over the PA system and boarding became more confusing. While I have seen airlines like government run airlines like Emirates, do seat based boarding and giving preference to infants and elderly, Air France only seemed to care about those with their special card. 

I had queued up in one corner of the gate where they suddenly placed the Economy Class board. But my euphoria didn't last for long when the machine failed to read the barcode on my boarding pass. And when the staff manually entered my reservation number, I had another surprise waiting for me? Did I get upgraded?

He proudly announced that I was being randomly selected to be screened by the security personnel at the gate. This is the second time I was screened during my journey the U.S. Why was I singled out? They security personnel at the gate repeatedly asked me if I had an iPad, iPhone and a camera. Was Samsung targeting Apple loyalists? 

I confirmed the first two and defined the third, but he insisted to search me and my carry-on. He frisked me, asked to remove my shoes and then made me empty my bag. By then I had lost my patience, but nevertheless decided to stay clam after seeing 3 other names in the screening lottery list. Looking at how annoyed I was, the security personnel thanked me a few times and wished me Bon voyage. Did they target me because the ground staff failed to scan my visa page or was it the reason stated by the security personnel: iPad, iPhone and camera?

Happiness is ephemeral 
I entered the flight to find most seats already taken, but to my surprise the overhead cabin was partially empty. Don't know how Air France managed get pack rats travel light. The flight was already delayed by over 30 mins and the while waiting for our turn to take-off I flipped through to channels to look at the choice of movies. Though I didn't expect a great collection, but I spotted a few good ones: Big Eyes, PK, Shaun et Muton, etc. But again my happiness was short lived.

When I switched from French to English, the screen went blank and I had to request the cabin crew to resuscitate. In about 20 minutes the screen came back to life and I felt relived to start my moivethon with Shaun et Muton. Hardly 15 minutes into the movie, I was automatically moved to another movie without not having made the choice. I tried a few time to get back to movie I was watching, but eventually I gave up and started to read the International edition of New York Times. Shortly after, the purser made an announcement about technical issue with the entertainment system.

Proving the French cliche
The French are believed to be best chefs and connoisseurs of food, will their meal testify the same? 

An hour had passed and my only solace on this journey was a hot dinner. The crew passed around the menu card, but since I had asked for a special meal it wasn't listed on the card. While many others knew what they were going to get, but I was definitely in more surprises.

There was also another reason why I was eagerly looking forward to the meal, I had ordered the meal after waiting on the phone for 12.5 minutes. And when it arrived, I had an instant facial constipation from looking at the size of the meal and soon the quality was going to be a bigger disappointment. 

The Indian meal had a salad with lettuce, sweet corn and tomato without dressing, a mildly hot vegetarian meal with two uncooked naans (2cm diameter) and a cold piece of unappetizing elastic bread. The only palatable portion of the meal was the desert: slices of apples, orange and pineapple. And I looked at what my neighbor received, and it was in no way even appetizing to look. Risotto de Champinion aux mushrooms, pasta salad, rubbery bread, chalk-like cheese and a desert proved the French cliche. 

The only solace I get from this trip is the airline miles and the only message for you is "never travel by Air France". From quality of ground staff, frowning cabin crew, poor meal, to in-flight entertainment everything was sub-standard wanting me to ask if the French were competing for the World's Worst Airline title? May be it is high time that state run airlines are closed to end poor service and loses or run in a professional manner to remain popular and profitable. 



Yes, I am single. So what?

Never in my wildest dream I had thought that the immigration officers would ask my such personal and offensive questions in Boston. While I was waiting to board the flight in Paris, a representation conducting a study on behalf of the European Border Control approached me to answer a 10 minute survey on how as a non-European I felt about giving my biometrics at various border controls. Are such surveys needed and are these responses taken seriously

A week ago when my friend emailed me about giving me his second car to drive around while in the U.S. I joked to a coworker that since I am brown skinned I need not worry about being shot dead by white officers. But then I had no idea that I was going to have stories to share back with him upon my return.

The U.S. and many of European countries have visa waiver programs and signed a treaties to respect and treat citizens with dignity and not subject them to such intense and humiliating scrutiny. Though I understand that scrutiny helps them to catch miscreants and terrorists, but repeated singling out members of a particular racial/ religious background tantamount to harassment, prejudice and discrimination. 

It was around 10 pm and the officer at the point of entry wasn't even courteous enough to return my evening wish. He asked me for my passport and questioned my intent to visit the U.S. I politely answered that I went to college in the U.S. and that I was here to visit friends. He kept asking me more personal questions and seeking more information on my place of stay,  about my friends and their professions, while the system was bringing up my profile and other additional information to make a decision on my entry. 

Like the Mami's of Mylapore, he made a statement that it is unusual for Indian males to remain single at this age. What is wrong being a single men and why are they subject to harassment and humiliation? Isn't being single a personal choice? The western society considers asking such personal questions as rude and rustic now appeared to have changed their mind. Though I had no problem answering to such stupid questions, why should I share my reasons with him. Is he paying my bills or is he taking care of my family? 

Aren't married people creating more trouble for governments globally? Most politicians are married and amass wealth for their future generations, the courts are clogged with divorce and custody battle cases. And lastly, bad and broken marriages sow seeds for crime in the society. Though the officer looked educated, I could have lectured him with some statistics, but then he is doing his duty by asking the questions tutored by the Department of Homeland Security. 

I responded back asking him if he had a problem with it. In the meanwhile, he reached out to my old passport that had the U.S. Visa and asked me why I had decided to shave my head and facial hair before the trip. Do I need permission from the U.S. Government to shave my head and face? 
Was he thinking that I could be a terrorist trying to change my look and appearance? And Now I was getting really annoyed with his question, but responded with an element of humor: I'm trying to save money on gel, shampoo and hair conditioner. 

Not liking my humorous response, he asked me if I were ever arrested. Wow! Was he planning to get me arrested or was it just yet another question to harass and make people blow their fuse. I politely responded with a NO. The only question he was left with now was ask my date of return. And as expected the question was the full-stop to our conversation and I walked away with a stamp on my passport to collect the luggage.

A few days ago an article in the NYTimes caught my attention. It mentioned the Department of Homeland Security trying to subject many other nationals to intense scrutiny since many of these nations (France, UK, Germany, etc.) have their citizen joining ISIS group. But that didn't make me feel any better or legitimize their action today.

I, an honest law abiding single man from India is being subjected such humiliation, while other nationals from countries such as France, Germany, etc. who had signed the treaties with the U.S. scanned their passports and verified their biometrics at the automated kiosks without have to go through such verbal harassments. I now hoped that the survey questions which I had answered at the Paris airport ten hours ago would be taken seriously.

U.S. still remains a land of opportunity and hope to many, but the recent crimes against black people or marginalizing black community and throwing them behind bars is keeping them a leader among the world's most racist nation. It is never pleasant traveling with an Indian passport specially to the West where we are often subjected to third-grade scrutiny which humiliates and undermines our self-respect and self-worth.