Time Travel: Mixture Of Bliss And Ordeal
Yuba Nath Lamsal
Time travels faster than anything. Even after almost half a decade, the trip to historic Italian town of Bologna keeps on coming to my memory. It was a great moment for me as the trip offered me an opportunity to see a classic town of Italy?a cradle of European civilisation. For a Nepali travelling abroad is a rare chance and gifted opportunity. An average Nepali with meagre income can hardly afford to travel abroad. It must be a sponsored trip. But I am an exception when it comes to travelling. I am not fond of travelling for long. A week is enough. After a week, I start getting homesick. But I was excited during my trip to Bologna, a city where famous European University?Bologna University?is located. Turin (Italian call it Torino) is a resort town and major attraction for the European tourists. I was invited by Slow Food International, a movement aiming to revive the traditional food culture and conserve environment in its natural form. The world conference the Slow Food convenes in every two year in which five people across the world are awarded with 20,000 euros each for the recognition of their best contribution for the conservation of bio-diversity, food culture and traditional agriculture production. I was a member of the jury to select the winners of the award. Every thing was planned. Tickets had been purchased by the organizer and sent to me and hotel booked. What I had to do was just to pack and move.The route was Kathmandu-Mumbai by Royal Nepal Airlines (now renamed Nepal Airlines) and Mumbai-Milan-Bologna by Alitalia, the Italian flag carrier. The journey began with excitement but it soon metamorphosed into ordeal right from I entered the Tribuvan International Airport. Mine was a connecting flight? from Mumbai to Milan to Bologna. I had three hours transit in Mumbai. However, the flight to Mumbai got delayed by two hours. It was a shock to as I began to worry that I might miss the plane in Mumbai. The delay in Kathmandu could disturb my entire schedule. I was left with no alternative but proceed with what was available. So I lined up for check in. In the counter was a lady who flashed a professional smile. I told her to tag my baggage directly to Bologna. But the woman paid no heed and tagged my baggage to Mumbai only. The sheer nonsense and irresponsible behavour of the RA staff caused an added trouble to me in Mumbai. As I reached Mumbai, passengers had already started boarding the flight to Milan. Only 15 minutes were left. I thought I missed the baggage and I would never get them as they were tagged to Mumbai and I would be in Italy. However, the Alitalia staff were so cooperative that they could somehow manage to get the baggage transferred. I must appreciate Alitalia and Mumbai airport officials for this prompt cooperation, which I could have hardly got in Kathmandu Airport. The Alitalia aircraft was a huge jumbo jet. Most passengers were white Europeans. A few were Indians and I was the only Nepali. For the first time, when I arrived at the Milan (Italians say Milano) Airport, I came to know that English is not the global language with which you communicate freely with everyone. In the huge Alitalia jetliner everybody was speaking Italian. Next to me was an Italian lady, who was returning home, Rome, from a weeklong India trip. I asked if she could speak English. "A little,"she said. According to her, Italians do not speak English and some do not understand at all. Instead of English, Spanish and French would do better in Italy. When I landed in the Milan airport, I realised the lady was very true to say so. When I asked some about the way to transit lounge in English, he replied, "I don't speak English."Perhaps he had a dynastic enmity with the English language. Then I encountered with another embarrassment in the immigration counter. Looking at my face and passport minutely, an official asked if I had sufficient money to live in Italy for a month. I said I was on sponsored trip to attend an international conference and all my expenses were borne by the organisers. I looked for the letter of invitation, which elaborated every thing. Unfortunately, I could not produce it as I had missed it somewhere. The official got more suspicious and asked to show the money sufficient for one-month stay in Italy. I handed over the money?2000 US dollars I was carrying? to him, which he counted one by one. Only then I was allowed to get through the counter. I felt humiliated but went ahead with as I had a little time to spare to catch the connecting flight to Bologna. The next ordeal began in Bologna Airport. My baggage did not arrive. I waited in the belt until every one in my flight went away. Every thing was in the baggage. If luggage was lost, I would not have clothes to change and the one I was wearing had already been dirty during 48-hour plus flight. I went to the Alitalia office and lodged the complaint with details of my baggage. They assured that they would trace the baggage and deliver it to my hotel. These formalities consumed more than two hours.It was Sunday, an off day. As I did not come out for long, the organisers, who had come to the airport to receive me had already gone thinking that I missed the flight. The only alternative I was left with was to take a cab to reach The University Hotel. Cabbies spoke in Italian but he immediately knew that I was not an Italian and I did not speak Italian. He started speaking in broken English. "Where?"he asked. "Hotel University?, I replied. "Ok, ok,"he said nodding and started rolling with the cab.Upon reaching the hotel, I asked the driver to take US dollar but he refused. " No dollar in Italy, only lire,"he said.He demanded lire 30,000. Euro had not been introduced till then. "I have no lire,"I said.He gestured me to go inside the hotel and change lire and I followed his instruction obediently like a schoolboy does. It was 15 dollars. The hotel was nice?an old fashioned building. I was satisfied with the facilities available in the hotel. But I was greatly worried about my language. I was tired and slept. I was awakened by the buzz of telephone. It was the receptionist informing me about the arrival of the luggage. "Mr. Lamsal, your baggage has arrived but it is in the customs office in the airport due to some legal complications and you yourself have to go to the airport to collect it?. I have been harassed one after another. At times, I thought I made a mistake to accept the invitation to visit Italy. But I thought I had to overcome the hurdles with courage and wit. I went to the airport to collect the baggage. Upon arrival at the customs office in the airport, I was informed that I was carrying illegal stuff because of which the baggage could not be released. It was a Khukuri (a traditional knife) I had bought in Kathmandu to give to a friend as a gift. In fact, a friend of mine had asked me to bring the Gurkha Khukuri. The customs officials confiscated the Khukuri and handed over the baggage to me. I heaved a great sigh of relief and set out for the hotel.
Time travels faster than anything. Even after almost half a decade, the trip to historic Italian town of Bologna keeps on coming to my memory. It was a great moment for me as the trip offered me an opportunity to see a classic town of Italy?a cradle of European civilisation. For a Nepali travelling abroad is a rare chance and gifted opportunity. An average Nepali with meagre income can hardly afford to travel abroad. It must be a sponsored trip. But I am an exception when it comes to travelling. I am not fond of travelling for long. A week is enough. After a week, I start getting homesick. But I was excited during my trip to Bologna, a city where famous European University?Bologna University?is located. Turin (Italian call it Torino) is a resort town and major attraction for the European tourists. I was invited by Slow Food International, a movement aiming to revive the traditional food culture and conserve environment in its natural form. The world conference the Slow Food convenes in every two year in which five people across the world are awarded with 20,000 euros each for the recognition of their best contribution for the conservation of bio-diversity, food culture and traditional agriculture production. I was a member of the jury to select the winners of the award. Every thing was planned. Tickets had been purchased by the organizer and sent to me and hotel booked. What I had to do was just to pack and move.The route was Kathmandu-Mumbai by Royal Nepal Airlines (now renamed Nepal Airlines) and Mumbai-Milan-Bologna by Alitalia, the Italian flag carrier. The journey began with excitement but it soon metamorphosed into ordeal right from I entered the Tribuvan International Airport. Mine was a connecting flight? from Mumbai to Milan to Bologna. I had three hours transit in Mumbai. However, the flight to Mumbai got delayed by two hours. It was a shock to as I began to worry that I might miss the plane in Mumbai. The delay in Kathmandu could disturb my entire schedule. I was left with no alternative but proceed with what was available. So I lined up for check in. In the counter was a lady who flashed a professional smile. I told her to tag my baggage directly to Bologna. But the woman paid no heed and tagged my baggage to Mumbai only. The sheer nonsense and irresponsible behavour of the RA staff caused an added trouble to me in Mumbai. As I reached Mumbai, passengers had already started boarding the flight to Milan. Only 15 minutes were left. I thought I missed the baggage and I would never get them as they were tagged to Mumbai and I would be in Italy. However, the Alitalia staff were so cooperative that they could somehow manage to get the baggage transferred. I must appreciate Alitalia and Mumbai airport officials for this prompt cooperation, which I could have hardly got in Kathmandu Airport. The Alitalia aircraft was a huge jumbo jet. Most passengers were white Europeans. A few were Indians and I was the only Nepali. For the first time, when I arrived at the Milan (Italians say Milano) Airport, I came to know that English is not the global language with which you communicate freely with everyone. In the huge Alitalia jetliner everybody was speaking Italian. Next to me was an Italian lady, who was returning home, Rome, from a weeklong India trip. I asked if she could speak English. "A little,"she said. According to her, Italians do not speak English and some do not understand at all. Instead of English, Spanish and French would do better in Italy. When I landed in the Milan airport, I realised the lady was very true to say so. When I asked some about the way to transit lounge in English, he replied, "I don't speak English."Perhaps he had a dynastic enmity with the English language. Then I encountered with another embarrassment in the immigration counter. Looking at my face and passport minutely, an official asked if I had sufficient money to live in Italy for a month. I said I was on sponsored trip to attend an international conference and all my expenses were borne by the organisers. I looked for the letter of invitation, which elaborated every thing. Unfortunately, I could not produce it as I had missed it somewhere. The official got more suspicious and asked to show the money sufficient for one-month stay in Italy. I handed over the money?2000 US dollars I was carrying? to him, which he counted one by one. Only then I was allowed to get through the counter. I felt humiliated but went ahead with as I had a little time to spare to catch the connecting flight to Bologna. The next ordeal began in Bologna Airport. My baggage did not arrive. I waited in the belt until every one in my flight went away. Every thing was in the baggage. If luggage was lost, I would not have clothes to change and the one I was wearing had already been dirty during 48-hour plus flight. I went to the Alitalia office and lodged the complaint with details of my baggage. They assured that they would trace the baggage and deliver it to my hotel. These formalities consumed more than two hours.It was Sunday, an off day. As I did not come out for long, the organisers, who had come to the airport to receive me had already gone thinking that I missed the flight. The only alternative I was left with was to take a cab to reach The University Hotel. Cabbies spoke in Italian but he immediately knew that I was not an Italian and I did not speak Italian. He started speaking in broken English. "Where?"he asked. "Hotel University?, I replied. "Ok, ok,"he said nodding and started rolling with the cab.Upon reaching the hotel, I asked the driver to take US dollar but he refused. " No dollar in Italy, only lire,"he said.He demanded lire 30,000. Euro had not been introduced till then. "I have no lire,"I said.He gestured me to go inside the hotel and change lire and I followed his instruction obediently like a schoolboy does. It was 15 dollars. The hotel was nice?an old fashioned building. I was satisfied with the facilities available in the hotel. But I was greatly worried about my language. I was tired and slept. I was awakened by the buzz of telephone. It was the receptionist informing me about the arrival of the luggage. "Mr. Lamsal, your baggage has arrived but it is in the customs office in the airport due to some legal complications and you yourself have to go to the airport to collect it?. I have been harassed one after another. At times, I thought I made a mistake to accept the invitation to visit Italy. But I thought I had to overcome the hurdles with courage and wit. I went to the airport to collect the baggage. Upon arrival at the customs office in the airport, I was informed that I was carrying illegal stuff because of which the baggage could not be released. It was a Khukuri (a traditional knife) I had bought in Kathmandu to give to a friend as a gift. In fact, a friend of mine had asked me to bring the Gurkha Khukuri. The customs officials confiscated the Khukuri and handed over the baggage to me. I heaved a great sigh of relief and set out for the hotel.
You are right that report that English is not as widely spoken as some might believe. That is exactly my experience on my travels - and English is my mother tongue. I was unable to find an English-speaker on the streets of Sofia, Bulgaria. No doubt there are some but not where I was standing, lost and illiterate. In Cameroon, where English and French are both official languages, you would be hard-pressed to find a fluent English speaker in some villages.
ReplyDeleteThere is a case for making wider use of the planned international langage Esperanto.