I haven’t even left Houston but I am already falling victim to the Indian “push and shove”.  It happened once, I let it slide.  The second time,  I got my best “Auntie, I am no longer intimidated by your kind” stance, with shoulders square, standing tall.  The notions of territory, personal space, are already fading.  But I am on my turf for a few more minutes, and although I know you want to be first on the plane, just because you want to be first on the plane, in front of me, before me, and will want to deplane first, once again, in front of me, we will both take off, land and wait for our luggage together.  I may even get my bags before yours, and there is nothing you can do about it.  But you would have been in front of me, and that makes you happy!  I am fine with that.

Our plane is delayed 30 minutes.  So people push even more.  I never understood the psychology of aiport lines, or any public lines.  But I know enough to realize that it is a very cultural concept.  And airport lines are a good illustration of the world I am flying into.  There are some people who are considered more important than others and won’t let anyone be mistaken on the issue.  Then there are the others, who will sometimes try and cheat their way up the ladder.  Personally, I do not get a feeling of accomplishment being seated first.  It’s either too hot or too cold on planes, and once you are in your seat, people watching, my favorite activity, is pretty much over.

This is a flight from Houston to Frankfurt, but I would gauge about half the passengers are Indian.  Where do they come from? Where do they live? Since when do we have so many Indians in Texas??  So many babies, so many aunties in sarees, so many Infosys backbacks.

I am grinning ear to ear.  I am going “home”.