You know you are going back to Asia when.....
It was a complete chaos at the check-in counters. One could see the counter staffs' stress levels from their dishevelled looks. It was quite impossible to decipher where the queue started and where it ended. Not like there was a long queue to start with... Actually, there was only one other person behind me. But the ones at the counter… hello? Where did you place your brains this morning? Excuse me! But there was only about a metre of space between the counter and the line barrier. There were hoards of people at the same counter at the same time, each to their own trolley. But do they have any cow sense to move the trolley aside to create space? Heck no! It was a mush jam of luggage, people and trolleys.
Then, like as if having to make sense out of chaos was not enough, the Malaysian-Indian guy behind me had to put himself like 1mm behind me, thinking that by having his trolley beyond the yellow line will get him sooner to any one of the busy counters. No idiot! Just move back! Then it is, “Oh sor-ree, sor-ree (Indian style).” Why? Because he kept bumping me with his damn trolley. I wonder if he left his senses behind with the cows in the fields.
Death-glare-raise-left-eyebrow-look moment.
The sirens started dancing in my head to mock me, “You are going back to Asia! You are going back to Asia!”
-At Check-In Counter -
“Can you please help me check if I can upgrade my ticket to business class and how much I have to top-up?
“Sorry. No seats available”.
*Gasp* People ARE getting too rich these days huh?
“The flight is packed today?”
“Very. But what I’ll do is issue your boarding pass first, and then you can speak to the service staff later.”
“OK.”
Look around whilst she was processing my boarding pass. A queue had started to build.
“Ok m’am. Here’s your boarding pass. You can go speak to the gentleman over there. His name is Lionel.”
“Thanks.”
So I approached Lionel, and asked him if I could be upgraded. No such luck, My air ticket is issued from Singapore so they will need to call back to Singapore’s office, get the price difference blah blah blah blah blah. In two words – Big Hassle.
Oh well. For the first time I was willing to pay for getting upgraded, I couldn’t. Bah!
At that point, I realized that I only had one boarding pass in hand. Checked my air tickets and the KL-SIN ticket was still in tact. What the hell… I went back to the counter and asked the lady, “Excuse me, but you didn’t check me in all the way through to Singapore?”
“Yes I did. Your luggage is going all the way through to Singapore.”
“But I still have my air ticket here. Where’s the boarding pass?”
“We cannot print the other boarding pass on this system.”
“But I never had this problem before.”
“I don’t know. I’m sorry but out system just can’t print the other boarding pass”
She looked like she was about to cry.
“So does this mean I will need to get my boarding pass at KL?”
“Yes.”
I had my doubts….
She was useless anyway. Looking at her wreck state, I suspected if I attempted any more interrogation, her delicate self ill break. And that’s when I know I’m still in South Africa – when I face service staff who fails in stress management and cannot explain questions coherently.
South African’s service tag phrases -
- “I don’t know.”
- “Sorry m’am but there’s nothing I can do. This is the way it is.”
- “Please hold on. Let me check for you.” You hold on the phone another 10 times for the next half an hour and your questions are still not answered
- “Please hold on. Let me transfer you.” You get transferred to Mozambique, Swaziland, Namibia and finally your call gets flushed through Victoria Falls.
It was such a relief to get out of that counter chaos. I was only thinking, “Smoking lounge.”
Then, out of nowhere, as I was walking towards customs counter, this black lady in black suit approaches me. Customs officer.
“Come this way with me please.”
Great. What have I done this time?
”How long have you been in South Africa?”
(Pause. Think) “Coming two years?
“What do you do here?”
“I work here.”
“Where are you going?”
“Back to Singapore.”
“How much money do you have with you?”
“Errr… I don’t know. I have not counted my money in ages.”
“Just tell me, US$? Rands? Singapore Dollars?”
“God… I really have no idea. Maybe 500 Rands, US$300 and SIN$200? Somewhere round about there?”
“Open up and let me see.”
So I took out my wallet she glanced through. Oops. I forgot I had HK Dollars and British Pounds as well. She didn’t pursue it. She carried on to peer into my Nike haversack and took out my camera bag.
“What is it in here?”
“My Cameras.”
“Did you declare this?”
“Declare???”
“Are you bring this back?”
(Pause – thinking should I say yes or no) “Yes.”
“Then you must declare or customs will give you problem when you come back.”
“Since when has there been this rule? I’ve been in and out of South Africa, this is the first time I’m being told of this.”
“Aish man…. You mean no one ever stopped you?”
“No.”
“But now I’m telling you must declare these items.”
“So if I decide now that I don’t want to bring it back with me?”
“Then it’s fine.”
“OK. I’m not bringing it back with me.”
She stared at my laptop bag.
“Open this up. What is this?”
“My computer.”
“You must declare this as well.”
(Temper rising) “OK! I’ll go declare it!”
“You must go out again, the customs declaration counter is next to CNA.”
(Staring out through the little glass, whine) “You mean I have to go out, come back and do all this scan thing all over again.”
“Yes.”
“Oh whatever….”
Stormed out, went to get these stinking declarations done. At least the customs declaration officer was nice. And quite cute too. Nice dimples. Momentary distraction. After the customs declarations forms were completed, I went back through customs clearance only to be caught in another human jam.
Patience, my Chooey…. Patience.
Law of Life : When you are finally next in the crawling line, the guy in front of you has to have problems and take forever to get through.
Patience, my Chooey…. Patience.
After all that senseless cows and customs bullshit, I was only too happy to head for the smoking lounge. Emergency nicotine input required.
Noteworthy : JNB Int’l has a FABULOUS smoking lounge. It is not some dingy little over-smoked room that all for one and all for one – where first hands smokers become passive smokers as well. The smoking lounge here in JNB is state of the art. Minimalist cum zen-ish sort of furnishing. I love it. And they provide plug points at each seat as well. The smoke are well-suctioned as I do not leave the lounge smelling like a walking ashtray. I love this snazzy-club-lounge concept smoking lounge. Best part, you don’t need to be some snobby privileged member to use it.
I zoomed right in and found my favourite corner seat. Mocha frappe’s good. Ahhh…. Relieved from my infuriating custom clearance.
Sat directly opposite me were 2 middle-aged guys – I'll call them Mr Green Shirt and Mr Blue Shirt. Then I heard this familiar accent, followed by 200 mph f***. Cringe. How could I forget…. afternoon international are mainly Asian destinations. But of course…. Singaporeans. Welcome home Chooeypoo.
Then came another Asian man. Sat down, was silent for a moment. So all I could hear was still all that f***.
Man picked up mobile phone. Started speaking in “Taiwanese” = Hokkien. Migraine started.
So whilst trying to ignore all that f*** that I was hearing, a sudden outburst from Taiwanese at the top of his voice, "Kan!" (= f***).
Followed by "Lan Jiao!" (= penis).
And amidst the bizarre vulgar surrounding, there was Reo Speedwagon’s ‘Can’t Fight This Feeling’ playing in the background.
Post f***, Kan and Lan Jiao, came Aussie lad.
Aussie lad walked in.
Aussie lad sat down.
Aussie lad took out his mobile, “I’m f***in’ pissed off with ya. I’m telling ya, I’m so f***in pissed off...."
Oh whatever! What was wrong with everyone? Or was there a problem with me? I was getting an overdose of vulgarities. I could not decide if I should laugh, cry or concuss. And that was one of the many occasions where I chose to disown my roots. I just sat there, shook my head, placed hand on forehead, refused remote association with those Asians and kept myself amused on the laptop. I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face as I sat there, listening to their craps and recording them down. But really, all I really did record down was the vulgarities. I do forget how when a room is filled with Asians, all you hear are vulgarities in various dialects spewing across the rooms.
De Ja Vu of UK days. First visit to my brother’s hostel and after a long time of not mingling with Singaporeans, I heard a loud screech from the back of the hall somewhere…. “Kan Ni Neh!”
Some things never change…..
Mindless note : After green shirt man left the lounge (for whatever reason), blue shirt swearing man picked up the phone and first call was to his wife. Second call, possibly some other woman – relationship unknown. And how did I know it is a woman? Man like all possible man alive, they usually soften their tone and speak very gently when the person on the other end of the phone is the opposite sex. In a matter of minutes, he suddenly became this eloquent engrish-speaking guy who didn’t even let out a single f***. Definitely a woman.
Sign #2 : Free-flow of vulgarities like year-end sales. Fuck, Lan-Jiao, Cheebye! Cheap cheap! 买一送一！ Buy one get one free.
Am I proud to be an Asian or what!
After that little vulgarity drama, it was time to head for the boarding gate. Just as luck would have it, flight delayed. Great. All I wanted was to get on board and SLEEP. Nevermind. Oblivious to the crowd, I found myself a little spot on the floor, made myself comfortable, took out my laptop and started typing away furiously.
Time to board the plane.
Then I noticed the crowd.
I thought I was flying on Air India going to Mumbai........
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