i have never written about this, nor do many people know of this at all.
today, exactly. august 15, 2011. 3AM nashville time. i was nowhere near home. i was very far from it.
i was in a very far away place. foreign to me in so many ways.
new delhi, india. 2PM.
i was there representing the band—checking out an organization that is an amazing partner with helping the lowest caste, the dalit, get out of slavery and back into society on their own without the hindrance of real-world slavery.
i was set to fly to dehradun, a place i had gone to for many years before, to see friends.
i had already seen the sunrise, and it was breath-taking as usual from that side of the world.
a small passenger bus took us out to the tarmac where we were to board a small propeller Kingfisher plane. the sight of one of those planes, to many, especially me, is daunting. i feel like the last time i had seen one of those types of planes was in gritty pictures from several eras long-gone.
i boarded with mostly indians, some from surrounding countries—all who didn't speak english, at least as their primary. i walked straight up the aisle to my seat, the very front, top left. i remember emailng a girl i had been talking to while overseas at that time telling her how much i hated flying—but that i was gritting my teeth and trying to bear it. this trip alone i had already had to fly several times to get to bangalore, hyderabad, delhi and now dehradun.
the captain came on, in broken english, and starting running through the mill of safeties and securities. i think at that point i had my headphones on. most of the other indians in the plane didn't seem to care either. one mother had a very loud baby crying and it only made me turn my volume up more.
a few minutes later another man came on saying something different. something had gone on with the engine and some quick repairs needed to be made. 10 minutes, tops. "wonderful," i thought. 10 minutes turned into two hours. yes. two hours. not only did i already hate flying, but i had now been on a stagnant plane long enough to watch 'Batman Begins' (most of it.)
in the time it had taken for those repairs, time had allowed a monsoon storm to approach the path directly that we were supposed to take northwest to Dehradun. the pilot announced they would look into an alternate route and get back with us. in classic indian fashion, they shot back a few minutes later that no routes were found so we would just fly straight into it. most people would think that this was an insane idea and you would be right.
at that moment i felt like i was the only one who was freaking out, mainly because i couldn't understand any of the conversations around me. but perhaps i really was.
when a propellar plane takes off, it literally sounds like it might blow up. you have two gargantuan engines on either side of you spinning blades of metal to take you up into the air. it's really quite a feat. no matter, within a few minutes we were up in sunny new delhi skies heading towards the foothills of the himalayas. i had almost sunken down into a song on my headphones when it grew cloudy outside the window.
we were now flying into the storm that the pilot had mentioned. when i get nervous, just like an 8 year-old, my palms get sweaty. i could feel my palms getting slippery as the Kingfisher hostess walzted down the isle with drinks just as if nothing at all was going on outside.
slight bumps started becoming more frequent at this point, but nothing too much to make anyone who was used to flying nervous. i tried to act nonchalantly about it as i grabbed a diet coke from the hostess' hand. i had, however, turn off my iPod just to make sure i didn't miss anything going on. by this point, outside was as black as night, even though it was only around 3 in the afternoon.
i don't remember how much time passed between my first sip of coke and the loud noise that came, but within seconds, the plane starting to make a sound blurred between a crackling noise and a loud whirling sound. winds from outside were making it harder to keep the plane stable, and the propellers were having to work overtime to keep it level.
now i started to worry. i looked around to make sure i wasn't insane, and many people started to look blankly ahead, as if also not knowing what to think. we started bumping up and down as if we were on a rickety rollercoaster. this wasn't your typical turbulance.
this sort of feeling went on for a few minutes until the pilot came on. i was hoping for some sort of redemption from him. something to tell us we were all ok. that he knew what he was doing. anything. but in the most broken and frail voice, all he said was, "i'm sorry folks, there is nothing we can do. we have to go through it."
excellent.
as we headed into the air above dehradun the storm was worsening. the plane would go back and forth, sideways, and if it wasn't for my seatbelt, i would have been hitting my head on the side of the window. i remember looking back to see if anyone else was reacting, but it was completely somber. even the air hostess had sat down in the aisle, holding on to the drink cart.
as the plane tried to fly below the storm and above the trees, in a wave-like pattern, i closed my eyes and started listening to Moving To Mars by Coldplay. i didn't like the line "we are meeting for the first time / we might never meet again / you and me / we are meeting for the first time can't you see / 7, 6, 5, 4, 3..." i felt like my plane was leaving earth. the pilot went on the speaker again to announce he was going to try to land but couldn't get steady above the trees to even make that possible.
the plane at this point was crackling overhead as if it's own fortress couldn't quite believe the force going against it outside. it did not feel good at all. a one-hour flight had now turned into a two-hour acrobatic flyiing scheme.
there is a weird blur between these moments now but i do remember this. opening my bible to psalms. not sure which one. i turned off my headphones becos i couldn't focus on it anymore. i even couldn't focus on reading hardly. my chest was turning tight. i started praying to God that if i was going to die this day, that i didn't want to have a heart-attack going down. i wanted to feel it all. i knew where i was to go afterwards, so i didn't want to mess up how it was supposed to happen with a flailing heart flaw.
i started singing "be still my soul"... it was the oddest emotion i had ever felt. utter peace in utter chaos.
i prayed—"God, if I am going to die today, so be it."
i looked outside and grey kept turning to green as we would swoop in and out of the clouds to the trees. it felt as if we were grazing the leaves on some sweeps.
i pictured our plane splitting just like on the season premiere of 'Lost' actually.
the pilot suddenly came on, same broken, shaky voice saying that we had to return to Delhi. there wasn't enough gas to last us, nor was there any way to land near dehradun. there was no relief met with that announcement, becos all that meant was that we now needed to make it back in time to delhi. yet, somehow we did. now leaving the scenery of a familiar place like dehradun below, we swooped back up into the storm to fly to our place of origin.
i didn't do anything on the flight home. just stared out the window and prayed for me to not have a heart attack. pretty funny now that i think of it.
we landed in delhi. i put my head in my hands and started crying. i'm not sure what else one would do at that point. we were bussed off the plane in chaos of what to do next. i split from the crowd and called my friend back in dehradun and he told me to find a hotel in a part of delhi that i could stay overnight. i did just that. grabbed a taxi and found a hotel...the first one that came into view.
it was india's independence day that day. i found that strange for some reason. with the hotel busser trying to talk me into buying a few bottles of beer (which a usual indian could not get, becos their independence day is a dry holiday) i walked out into the streets of delhi just to vent. i walked all night long. i listened to music (augustana in particular) bought incense and thought of love.
i don't know what sort of transition happened inside me that day during all of those events, but i remember feeling a new weight on me, lifted. it wasn't as if i had cheated death. more so, that i was more thankful to live.
there isn't much in one's life that can make you feel the static that lines the border of death and life without passing over from one to the other. but that plane ride definitely encased it for me. it raised the hairs on my arm.
and now, a year ago, today, all i can do is tell you that God is good. and there is a reason you are breathing today. there is a reason you woke up and that the chemicals in your body make your heart beat the way it does. you are incredilbly made.
we all will have to fly through something like that in our lifetime. we may have to do it several times. but something in us, will keep us going. we were built that way.
i feel that today. i feel that right now.
when i had gotten back to the hotel that night i emailed one of my best friends back home the details of what had happened. upon reading it, he realized he had woken up that night before 11 hours back home in nashville, in a cold sweat—at the same time i had been on that plane, not knowing why, until then.
today, exactly. august 15, 2011. 3AM nashville time. i was nowhere near home. i was very far from it.
i was in a very far away place. foreign to me in so many ways.
new delhi, india. 2PM.
i was there representing the band—checking out an organization that is an amazing partner with helping the lowest caste, the dalit, get out of slavery and back into society on their own without the hindrance of real-world slavery.
i was set to fly to dehradun, a place i had gone to for many years before, to see friends.
i had already seen the sunrise, and it was breath-taking as usual from that side of the world.
a small passenger bus took us out to the tarmac where we were to board a small propeller Kingfisher plane. the sight of one of those planes, to many, especially me, is daunting. i feel like the last time i had seen one of those types of planes was in gritty pictures from several eras long-gone.
i boarded with mostly indians, some from surrounding countries—all who didn't speak english, at least as their primary. i walked straight up the aisle to my seat, the very front, top left. i remember emailng a girl i had been talking to while overseas at that time telling her how much i hated flying—but that i was gritting my teeth and trying to bear it. this trip alone i had already had to fly several times to get to bangalore, hyderabad, delhi and now dehradun.
the captain came on, in broken english, and starting running through the mill of safeties and securities. i think at that point i had my headphones on. most of the other indians in the plane didn't seem to care either. one mother had a very loud baby crying and it only made me turn my volume up more.
a few minutes later another man came on saying something different. something had gone on with the engine and some quick repairs needed to be made. 10 minutes, tops. "wonderful," i thought. 10 minutes turned into two hours. yes. two hours. not only did i already hate flying, but i had now been on a stagnant plane long enough to watch 'Batman Begins' (most of it.)
in the time it had taken for those repairs, time had allowed a monsoon storm to approach the path directly that we were supposed to take northwest to Dehradun. the pilot announced they would look into an alternate route and get back with us. in classic indian fashion, they shot back a few minutes later that no routes were found so we would just fly straight into it. most people would think that this was an insane idea and you would be right.
at that moment i felt like i was the only one who was freaking out, mainly because i couldn't understand any of the conversations around me. but perhaps i really was.
when a propellar plane takes off, it literally sounds like it might blow up. you have two gargantuan engines on either side of you spinning blades of metal to take you up into the air. it's really quite a feat. no matter, within a few minutes we were up in sunny new delhi skies heading towards the foothills of the himalayas. i had almost sunken down into a song on my headphones when it grew cloudy outside the window.
we were now flying into the storm that the pilot had mentioned. when i get nervous, just like an 8 year-old, my palms get sweaty. i could feel my palms getting slippery as the Kingfisher hostess walzted down the isle with drinks just as if nothing at all was going on outside.
slight bumps started becoming more frequent at this point, but nothing too much to make anyone who was used to flying nervous. i tried to act nonchalantly about it as i grabbed a diet coke from the hostess' hand. i had, however, turn off my iPod just to make sure i didn't miss anything going on. by this point, outside was as black as night, even though it was only around 3 in the afternoon.
i don't remember how much time passed between my first sip of coke and the loud noise that came, but within seconds, the plane starting to make a sound blurred between a crackling noise and a loud whirling sound. winds from outside were making it harder to keep the plane stable, and the propellers were having to work overtime to keep it level.
now i started to worry. i looked around to make sure i wasn't insane, and many people started to look blankly ahead, as if also not knowing what to think. we started bumping up and down as if we were on a rickety rollercoaster. this wasn't your typical turbulance.
this sort of feeling went on for a few minutes until the pilot came on. i was hoping for some sort of redemption from him. something to tell us we were all ok. that he knew what he was doing. anything. but in the most broken and frail voice, all he said was, "i'm sorry folks, there is nothing we can do. we have to go through it."
excellent.
as we headed into the air above dehradun the storm was worsening. the plane would go back and forth, sideways, and if it wasn't for my seatbelt, i would have been hitting my head on the side of the window. i remember looking back to see if anyone else was reacting, but it was completely somber. even the air hostess had sat down in the aisle, holding on to the drink cart.
as the plane tried to fly below the storm and above the trees, in a wave-like pattern, i closed my eyes and started listening to Moving To Mars by Coldplay. i didn't like the line "we are meeting for the first time / we might never meet again / you and me / we are meeting for the first time can't you see / 7, 6, 5, 4, 3..." i felt like my plane was leaving earth. the pilot went on the speaker again to announce he was going to try to land but couldn't get steady above the trees to even make that possible.
the plane at this point was crackling overhead as if it's own fortress couldn't quite believe the force going against it outside. it did not feel good at all. a one-hour flight had now turned into a two-hour acrobatic flyiing scheme.
there is a weird blur between these moments now but i do remember this. opening my bible to psalms. not sure which one. i turned off my headphones becos i couldn't focus on it anymore. i even couldn't focus on reading hardly. my chest was turning tight. i started praying to God that if i was going to die this day, that i didn't want to have a heart-attack going down. i wanted to feel it all. i knew where i was to go afterwards, so i didn't want to mess up how it was supposed to happen with a flailing heart flaw.
i started singing "be still my soul"... it was the oddest emotion i had ever felt. utter peace in utter chaos.
i prayed—"God, if I am going to die today, so be it."
i looked outside and grey kept turning to green as we would swoop in and out of the clouds to the trees. it felt as if we were grazing the leaves on some sweeps.
i pictured our plane splitting just like on the season premiere of 'Lost' actually.
the pilot suddenly came on, same broken, shaky voice saying that we had to return to Delhi. there wasn't enough gas to last us, nor was there any way to land near dehradun. there was no relief met with that announcement, becos all that meant was that we now needed to make it back in time to delhi. yet, somehow we did. now leaving the scenery of a familiar place like dehradun below, we swooped back up into the storm to fly to our place of origin.
i didn't do anything on the flight home. just stared out the window and prayed for me to not have a heart attack. pretty funny now that i think of it.
we landed in delhi. i put my head in my hands and started crying. i'm not sure what else one would do at that point. we were bussed off the plane in chaos of what to do next. i split from the crowd and called my friend back in dehradun and he told me to find a hotel in a part of delhi that i could stay overnight. i did just that. grabbed a taxi and found a hotel...the first one that came into view.
it was india's independence day that day. i found that strange for some reason. with the hotel busser trying to talk me into buying a few bottles of beer (which a usual indian could not get, becos their independence day is a dry holiday) i walked out into the streets of delhi just to vent. i walked all night long. i listened to music (augustana in particular) bought incense and thought of love.
i don't know what sort of transition happened inside me that day during all of those events, but i remember feeling a new weight on me, lifted. it wasn't as if i had cheated death. more so, that i was more thankful to live.
there isn't much in one's life that can make you feel the static that lines the border of death and life without passing over from one to the other. but that plane ride definitely encased it for me. it raised the hairs on my arm.
and now, a year ago, today, all i can do is tell you that God is good. and there is a reason you are breathing today. there is a reason you woke up and that the chemicals in your body make your heart beat the way it does. you are incredilbly made.
we all will have to fly through something like that in our lifetime. we may have to do it several times. but something in us, will keep us going. we were built that way.
i feel that today. i feel that right now.
when i had gotten back to the hotel that night i emailed one of my best friends back home the details of what had happened. upon reading it, he realized he had woken up that night before 11 hours back home in nashville, in a cold sweat—at the same time i had been on that plane, not knowing why, until then.
