How to re-enact: Tom Hanks from the Terminal

(ATL-DCA-ATL-DXB-DOH-BEY-DOH-DXB-LHR-JFK-LGA-ATL)

In what has now turned into a real life comedy, starring me in the main role, I think it is opportune for me to write a survival guide; ‘How to survive at an airport if you don’t have a visa to get out or a flight to take you where you belong’

Those aware of my escapades may know that I flew to Lebanon from Atlanta to catch a concert. That trip had been crazy enough in its own right and didn’t need any more excitement. It wasn’t to be.

For those lucky ones holding a US or UK passport, you will not understand my pain, but for those stuck with one of those passports that requires you to obtain a visa for every country you travel to, will surely feel for me, or at least be amused at my expense.
Prior to the trip, I had spent ample money and effort and lost a lot of sleep in obtaining my Lebanese visa. I had to even make a mad dash flight to DC and back to collect my passport from the consulate and be back in time for my onward connections to the Middle East.

So here was my itinerary: Atlanta to Dubai as a standby passenger on Delta (Space available, scum of the earth passenger. I don’t care I get to fly for free), Confirmed flight from Dubai to Doha (In Qatar) and another flight from Doha to Beirut on Qatar Airways. I managed to make it there, through back and forth time zones and multiple flights. UAE is 9 hours ahead, Doha is 8 hours ahead and Lebanon is 7 hours ahead of EST. The trip back was the more entertaining kind.

After an entire night of bouncing and vigorously shaking my body in what was some form of dance at the concert, I had to come to my room, shower and head to the airport. The first challenge was convincing Qatar airways to let me board my flight since I didn’t have any confirmed flight from Dubai onwards (I was a standby passenger on Delta remember). After pleading with them and telling them that I would stay at the airport, they let me go. (Sweet chaps). In a half daze, through 2 bus transfers at Doha airport, 2 flights, I reached Dubai airport, soon to be my home for 30 hours.

I arrive at the gate for the Delta flight and turns out standby passengers are not getting on today. The weight limit has been reached (Cargo going back to the US) and they can’t take passengers even though there are seats. I have already managed to leave my passport folder in one of the bathrooms by now. A very nice Indian airport worker sees me frantically running where I think I left it and calls me out saying, “Passport. Indian passport. I have it, I look for you.” I thank the man, pat his shoulder and tell him I hope to be getting out soon. Once I get over the disappointment of not getting on the flight, I try to see if I can get a visa to get into the country. The scary officials in the immigration office say I must have a confirmed flight to get a visa and I must talk to my airline to give it to me in writing. (As if that’s happening I think to myself). At this point I am starting to feel like Tom Hanks in the terminal; No India didn’t go off the map suddenly, but here I am in limbo, stuck.

After much deliberation I decide to check into the Dubai international airport hotel, built right inside the terminal, between gates 114 and 117. The room plush, roomy, comfortable and with a delightful bed, flat screen tv and all the amenities of a regular hotel was way more than I could have dreamed of in this dazed state of mine. My window overlooked the transfer desks I was at a few hours ago when I first landed. It was weird being in a hotel room at the airport. As I chuckled at the thought of going down to the duty free to get chocolate for my craving, I passed out.

I am awoken to the smell of fresh jet fuel and the sound off, “Malaysian Airlines Flight 2323 to Kuala Lumpur will board at gate 121.” No just kidding, the room was pretty sound proof. I awoke after 13 hours. Wow I hadn’t slept that much in years, I must have been exhausted. Fresh and more optimistic this time around, I went about my day, checking my emails, brushing my teeth etc. After getting ready, I went down again and back to the transfer desk to be greeted by the same girl who was more optimistic this time. “I am 99% sure you will get it today sir.” Oh how I wish she was right. I come back to my room to a phone call. “It’s 7pm sir, this is your wake up call. Your flight is at 11:20pm.” Wow I could get used to this life I thought. Robed in just the bath robe, I made myself a cup of coffee, started nibbling on the complimentary grapes and sat down on the work desk to do some work. Oh it felt beautiful. Around 9:30 pm, optimistic, hopeful and ready to work all the way back to Atlanta, I arrived at gate 113 again. I saw the same folks from the day before, performing the same pre-flight tasks. Around 10, sure I that I will get on time around, I went up to the desk for a cursory question, “What’s the standby situation?” Recognizing me from the night before the woman at the counter said, “Bad sir.” My heart sinks yet again. I can’t stay here any longer. I have already rescheduled all my commitments from Monday, I can’t do that again. Once it is evident that there is no way I am getting on (They are even removing confirmed passengers), I decide that I need to get back to the US one way or the other. I start looking at the departure screen. Delta isn’t taking me back…

The credit card is swiped for a one way flight to London Heathrow at 2:20 am on British Airways. At this point nothing else matters, I just want to get out of here. How thankful I am to American Express for raising my credit limit just a few days ago. This trip has cost me way too much money by now. I am annoyed, irritated, upset, frustrated and all the negative emotions rolled into one. But instead I laugh out loud. Is this really happening?

I hold with me a confirmed ticket to London now and by the time this is published I will hopefully be back in the US.

If one were to be stuck anywhere, I think Dubai airport would make a great place. There is shopping, there are tons of food options, there are business centers, hotels, anything you might need if you’re stranded. Whilst here, I made some friends I think. I met my friend again who had retrieved my passport a day ago. He asked, “Sir Hi, still here?” I laughed and told him not for any longer hopefully. I swear he said bye to me like he was going to see me again very soon. Oh friend.
Then there was Jamaica, the girl at the hotel reception. She was probably from the Philippines. She was sweet and kind and always smiled at me. She had the ‘still here look’ when I went back to the hotel to get some free internet after I didn’t get the flight for days in a row. She must have known since she was the one who gave me wake up call.

Then there were the others, the girl at the Delta ticket desk, the woman at the Delta gate, the Delta agents who told me I wasn’t getting on, the Mcdonald’s crew (I ate there twice) and the countless others I’ve seen going about their work here.
Airports are great places to observe people and there is no better airport to do so than Dubai airport. It is such an incredible transit hub that you see people from everywhere going everywhere. Just walking around, I was fascinated to see the kinds of destinations the planes were flying to. Suddenly I remembered why I loved travelling. I get such a thrill in finding out where people are coming from and where they are going. To build a story around them just based on how they look and where they are going. Airports are great places to people watch but I think I have had it with Dubai airport for a while.

As I was scourging for a wall point to charge my laptop to write this, I started to reach for a plug point and so did this girl with her iphone. Marlene from Belgium told me it was okay and I could use it.
Me: Do you have a USB charger?
She: Yes (Pulls it out)
Me: I connect my laptop, you connect to my computer
She: Teamwork
I connect my laptop and she connects her phone to the laptop but it doesn’t work
She: It’s not happening. No teamwork
Me: It will. Believe in it.
The phone starts charging
Both: Rejoice and scream

She just took her phone as she was ready to board her flight to Brussels. “Bon soir Marlene,” I said.

We both fly out of DXB tonight, but many return to work another day.