Shalom Israel, Namaste India

Yesterday was insane. I got up and went to the airport for what the not-so-clever dude on the Lufthansa phone said was a 1:30 flight, only to find there was no such flight. There was a 10:45, which I'd just missed, and a 3:30, but no 1:30. Hmmmm. Needless to say Turkish Air had no record of my flight, so they had to scramble to get me on. But this was the least of my worries. The Israeli security people. That's my main worry. I guess something in my itinerary for my eticket raised red flags, because I got pulled out of line to the frosted glass area, where two 18 year old kids interrogated me for an hour. Why was I traveling? What was my occupation? Why do I say I live in Boston when the luggage tag says someplace else? Who, exactly, do I know in Lebanon? Lebanon, New Hampshire, USA? Not Lebanon their hostile neighbor? Isn't that funny...am I sure it's USA? Why would a city in America name itself Lebanon? What was my occupation again? And what do I teach? And how did I get the time off? And how did I get the money to travel if I'm not working? And what was my occupation again? And with whom am I traveling? A woman alone? Really? Isn't that difficult? Why don't I travel with somebody else? Why don't I find someone on the internet? So who do I hang out with, then? What are their names? Where are they traveling? What was my occupation again?
Finally I managed to satisfy them that I was not an evildoer, but they then were sure that one of the people I'd met in my many hostel stays had planted something on me. My luggage had to be checked. Thoroughly. What is this? A jar of peanut butter? Why would anyone carry that? Because it's a good cheap snack? I thought you said you had some money to travel with? Sigh. So after another 30-40 minutes of baggage checking, they were satisfied that my bags did not contain evildoer materials, but they were no longer sure that I was not an evildoer, so off I went behind two heavy steel doors to a curtined room where I removed my shoes to be checked (they took my arch supports out and put them back in wrong!), and then a full-body pat-down. We're not talking a quick frisk, here. I mean taking my hair down and checking for stuff in it, checking the seams of my underwear, every inch of me including the soles of my thinly-socked feet.
An hour and 45 minutes after I first walked up to the line, they were finally satisfied that I was harmless enough to board the plane. Who knew I was such a menacing character. I guess it's my natural teacherly-ness - the 18 year old kids were scared of me! :)

I arrived in India at 4:30 AM and proceeded directly to the Salvation Army hostel, which I think will only be a one night deal. I squashed 2 bugs on my mattress, and I have no interest in a repeat of Ghana's bedbug nightmare. I sprayed the heck out of my mattress with permethrin and I'll take my chances for the night, but today is dedicated to finding alternate accommodations for tomorrow night. Why not tomorrow? I'll tell you why not: because I'm gonna be a Bollywood star, baby. I guess the film studios always want foreign-looking extras, so they recruit at the local hostels, so my procedure at reception was something like this:
"Name?" "Katherine Taylor" "Nationality?" "American" "You wanna be in a movie?" "What?" "You wanna be an extra in a Bollywood movie tomorrow?" "Oh...ok. Yeah, that sounds fun." "They pay you 500 rupees for the day, you're in dorm number 6, have a nice day."

So tomorrow is the day I make it big in showbiz. I'll let you know how it goes.