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Rated: 18+ · Documentary · Travel · #1065635
A student from Thailand talks about the shock of Bangalore, India.

“If you can use, some exotic booze, there’s a bar in far Bombay”. The phrase from the song “Come Fly With Me” by Frank Sinatra is the first thing to strike me when The Exotic Land is mentioned. I don’t do much traveling myself and packing is not exactly my favorite pastime. The task of packing is therefore delegated to my mom and dad. The flight is tomorrow morning and therefore we still have time for some last minute shopping at a Hypermarket, my dad surprised me my driving me to my friend’s house where I visited her and her sister one last time before heading of to exotic land. After a long and tired day I enjoyed what is to be my last dinner in at home for at least 4 months.

Day dreaming is what kid likes to do but more than that it left fly your imagination. My expectation of The Exotic Land is a spotless clean city with tall buildings, multinational companies, fully developed state-of-the-art infrastructure with a great atmosphere. Since The Exotic Land is known for it’s good weather as well as a hub for IT and multinational outsourcing industry. I expected to see the scene of globalization at work, where The Exotic Land would be flooded with Starbucks and Seven-elevens. With all these overwhelming expectation deluging my mind, it’s not that hard for me to leave my home and my family behind.

I liked to get ahead of time as I arrived early and checked in at the airport. In no rush I visited the complimentary lounge, downed 2 glasses of Kahlua and milk to smoothen my flight, nibbled on some cheese sandwiches to crave my early morning munchies. As they called for, I boarded slickly with a laptop bag on my shoulder and walked down the path which connects the airport to the plane with the tune of Frank Sinatra’s “Come Fly With Me” ringing in my head. Took my seat as I looked out the plane window to the clear pale blue sky which should somewhat prophesies my clear future.

If I were to based my first impression of the exotic on the service of the flight then it would turned out to be a good one. The business class service was great, I enjoyed the sophisticated Indian lamb curry infused with spices and decorated with chopped mint leaves which was served on the flight. The three hours went by swiftly and upon the scene of landing to my despair I spotted patches of sand covered land and well “so long for all the tall buildings”. Being my usual optimistic self I imagined that the airport maybe located in the rural areas of The Exotic Land and was the first to sprint out as the plane touched down.

Well I wont’ exactly call this an International airport and thought to myself “Am I at the right place?” As I decided to turn back to the plane I noticed the sign “Welcome to The Exotic Land” and realized that I was indeed at the right place. If this is an airport then where are all the duty free shops with neon signs, the pale golden spotlight, the shinny trolley and the whole ambient which makes a perfect airport. I bit my tongue and tried to make myself happy by forcing a smile as I marched down to the Taxi stand.

So far it’s not exactly “New York, New York” and no one could have sung it better. The Exotic Land is not what I had in mind. What happened to the entire English speaking citizen, for god sake the taxi had no air condition and apart from that I had troubles trying to communicate with the illiterate cab driver who speak but English! Am I asking for too much?

I was welcomed by the filthy streets and roads which lacked a traffic system, uneven paved roads with potholes and bumps. The taxi ride then became similar to theme park ride but worst since I didn’t ask for it. Surprisingly the taxi suddenly stopped, to my concerned I gazed out the grimy window to see a cow crossing the road and thought to myself of an opportunity of perhaps opening the first ever open zoo located on the road. The scene of poverty popped up to my mind, the impact of being one of the world’s greatest economic underachievers as suggested by Charles Wheelan’s Naked Economics and several other books.

I flushed all my expectations down the drain as I finally got to my accommodation and it was quite late. I directly walked into the toilet to wash the dust of my face and once again to my surprise, the light switches aren’t working. Little did I know that it is common and considered to be normal for electricity to go off in this country, this is definitely more than a culture shock. After an enormous amount of effort I finally managed to take myself and my depression to bed that night, hot and sweaty.

The next morning I woke up from a nightmare, as I opened my eyes and to my delight I saw the fan spinning indicating that civilization (electricity) is back once again. I took a nice warm shower and was on my way to the college in a jiffy! College by the way was located in the middle of no man’s land surrounded by run down villages and prehistoric huts. The college is a size of a small institute, even smaller than my high school. The classrooms are inefficient with no lights, fans and not even a clock. Basically it’s just a class with a chalk board and rows of seat which is joined to the table, inadequate, insufficient and somewhat poor.

The time went by as I enjoyed the subject being thought although the accent and pronunciation of some of the lecturers was indigestible. My classmates are poles apart from friends I used to have back at home. Guys geared up in a primitive checkered shirt with tight pant which comes up all the way to the navel, the fashion police would have been rather busy if placed in such a crowd.

Lunch, my favorite time of the day turned out to be horrible. The college’s canteen is dreadful located in a small hut next to the village and the garbage. The word hygiene doesn’t seem to exist, the food is served using hands instead of proper utensils. There are not enough chairs to facilitate the number of students, people eat while standing. The exoticness I first anticipated didn’t live up to it’s expectation.

(INCOMPLETE)
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