...And Then My Suitcase was Lost

I'll start this post off by saying that I am one of those people who always fears that my suitcase is going to be misplaced even for short non-stop domestic flights. That said, I was extra anxious to find out the status of my bag in Mumbai because in Raleigh-Durham the counter agent couldn't tell me if I would see it in Mumbai or Nagpur. At first the other agents said I must transfer it myself from international to domestic, but then the agent put in an override and said it worked.

Given the chance of a possible override, I had some initial patience when I didn't see my bag come out in the first few batches. There was always the possibility that my bag would not come out at all and I would be notified of its existence over in the domestic terminal. I spent most of the time making phone calls to my family.

Meera and I stood together as the crowd thinned out. This seemed to take forrreverrrrr. It must have been close to midnight by the time anyone actually started worrying that bags were missing. When perhaps 20 of us were left (remember, this was a flight of 400+ people), some of the passengers started to inquire at the baggage desk. The agents there kept promising that additional baggage compartments from our flight were coming. Meera was convinced that all the people left standing had started their journeys in the United States before Chicago and this was an issue of one baggage compartment having all the Chicago gate-transferred luggage. She busied herself by walking around asking others what cities they started in. She herself had started in California. At this point, I had become anxious, but was still not worried about my bag. I truly thought that it was probably already taken over to the domestic terminal.

Much more time went on, but finally more bags came out and some of the passengers left. It was down to perhaps 8 or 9 people. Meera and I were 2 of them. Let me just stop right here and say, if there was any question before that someone from above had sent Meera to comfort me during my travels this was final confirmation. On a plane of hundreds of passengers, Meera had also had her bag misplaced and was one of the final 10 left standing at the baggage claim after two hours. I cannot thank g-d enough for her presence. Although most of the agents spoke English, there was still a different air about the way they worked and communicated. If Meera hadn't been there I would have been in Mumbai at midnight, alone, with no baggage. I would have lost it, that is for sure.

Then, after another 20 minutes, a final round of bags emerged. Meera's bag was one of them. Mine was not. In fact, I was the only passenger to not have my bag. By this time I had asked the baggage agents dozens of times if it was possible mine had been sent to the domestic terminal, and I tried to explain the override that had taken place in Raleigh-Durham in my clearest English. They insisted that there was no way to do an override and I must find my luggage in the international terminal.

They said I needed to start a claim. Since Meera was planing on leaving the airport and going to her sister's house for the night (her flight was not until the next afternoon), I told her she didn't need to wait any longer with me. It was already past midnight and she had already done so much for me. We made our goodbyes and left. She said she may see me in the domestic terminal because she was going to try checking her bag in. She was also having thoughts about moving her afternoon flight up to the morning and staying at the airport because her sister had already gone to bed.

I switched to the task at hand which required giving the agents by baggage ticket. What was the first thing they told me: "Ma'am, your baggage is in Chicago." Whaaaaaaat? Fine, at least it was better than some ambiguous answer like, "Hmmm, we don't really know where your baggage is." What followed was 45 minutes of paperwork. The Air India baggage desk at the Mumbai airport did things the old fashioned way including hand writing most file notes, using carbon copy paper for receipts, and printing out forms on one of those old printers with the thick white and blue alternating rows. In the process I think I handed over to them my passport, my expedia flight information, my packet on SEARCH, my US address, the SEARCH phone numbers and address, and my boarding pass stubs. Although I was upset with the situation, I found it funny that I was telling the baggage guy every contact detail for my internship, when the customs desk that I had just passed through with a tourist visa was literally 100 feet down the hallway. They don't communicate much between departments...and oh how this has become a theme in India.

The agent said my bag would follow my exact route, just one day later, and arrive at SEARCH on Thursday. I tried to explain that SEARCH was not close to the Nagpur aiport at all. "Don't worry, don't worry," he kept saying. I must have lingered at the desk for 15 minutes. I was told to continue with my itinerary. I was worried about leaving the international terminal, but there wasn't much there, and Meera said the domestic terminal had lounges. I told the agent I was more comfortable waiting in the Mumbai or Nagpur airport, even delaying my driver pickup, if it meant receiving my bag in-hand at the airport. "Please ma'am, why are you so worried?" I started to feel like there was a cultural difference about losing one's possessions, but I am still confused about how this could work.

In the end, I received a receipt with a baggage tag number and a reference number. One of the agents also walked me over to the currency exchange where, with a special form I filled out, I received 3000 rupees (roughly $75) for my troubles.

I navigated myself to the shuttle that would drive me to the domestic terminal. I boarded the bus and sat in the dark. I started to cry, the second bout of tears during my journey. I was afraid that I would never see my suitcase again. Not only would this extremely disturb me, for everyone who knows my personality and the fact that I hate losing things, but not getting my suitcase meant not surviving in India. I needed that suitcase!

I calmed down as the bus began to drive to the domestic terminal. Seeing that it was nighttime, it was obviously dark, but the runways and airport buildings were all illuminated. At 1am the air was hot and muggy with a light mist. I was upset about my baggage, but I couldn't help but be enraptured by the environment that unfolded around me. For some reason that shuttle ride was the longest inter-terminal transfer I have ever taken. You would have thought we drove to another town. No joke, we were on the shuttle for 20 minutes. I really enjoyed looking out into the peaceful Mumbai night. I could have stayed on forever.