Money Matters

One of the first things that confuse visitors to a foreign land, I discovered, was getting used to the loose change.
Every visit to the supermarket found me exchanging paper money for coins ranging over all denominations – I never found myself quick witted enough to tender the exact change like those around me did. The result – I found myself unwittingly becoming the owner of a large coin collection.
Not that loose change had little utility; I badly needed coins to feed the cigarette vending machines that I so regularly patronized. But I discovered to my dismay that these contraptions accepted only half, one and two euro coins. Smaller change seemed to be meant for manual and more discrete handling.
At the end of the day I found myself running short of one and two euro coins.
I was perplexed by this dilemma till I found a novel solution.
Endingen had a mini gambling parlor which was patronized by a good number of residents. Loose change was the currency that the gambling machines spoke and the parlor had coin vending machines that broke up your paper money.
The matronly lady in charge gracefully turned a blind eye as I dutifully walked in daily after office hours to get my five euro note broken up into one and two euro coins.
***

First Flight

Last year in May
…late at night I got a call from this German firm saying that they had decided to recruit me on contract and that I had to report ASAP to their office.
Excited and breathless I checked out the net to fish out more information on this company's location.
Endingen seemed to be a quaint little German village close to the French and Swiss borders.
It had its own pretty little website (www.endingen.de) which featured a shot from a webcam that reloaded every few minutes. At Endingen I came to know that this webcam was placed high on top of a building that overlooked the village market place.
***
Later that month...
..I was all packed up and ready to leave. My flight was scheduled to leave in the evening. When I arrived at Nedumabassery airport I was informed that the flight had been delayed indefinitely. The flight people took great pains to keep us as comfortable as possible. Especially since a good many of those flying were on urgent trips, some with tight deadlines on their missions (expiring passports, etc) and who were irate at the delay.
We were put up in a star hotel close to the airport.
But the biggest shock came when we found ourselves boarding the plane, a good 24 hours after the scheduled time.
Technical snags they said. But that was the height of air travel...!
I meticulously went through my check list.
The baggage scanning... Checking in the baggage... The lining up for passport verification.. The final check of the hand baggage.. The body search.. And that was it..!!
I had hardly had any sleep. But when the plane took off I still found myself wide awake while the rest of the passengers wearily dozed off.
I refused the beer one of the hostesses offered meand instead had some apple juice.
I wanted to be in full command of my senses on my first flight...
I plugged my earphones into the sound system and pulled a blanket over me as I awaited the touchdown at Qatar- the transit point on my way to Frankfurt.
***
It was early morning...
when the plane flew over the Gulf. The sky was clear and the sunlight was blinding. From up above I could discern the vast tracts of desert wasteland and then as we came nearer to land, I had a bird's eye view of Doha with tall man-made structures.
The flight captain announced the local time and I adjusted my wrist watch as I had reminded myself to do in my checklist.
There was a warm breeze blowing at Doha airport.
I learnt that due to the delay at Kochi I had missed my connection flight to Frankfurt the day before.
I had half the day before I would be catching the next available connection flight to Munich, Germany instead of the destined Frankfurt.
Again all the transit passengers were checked into a hotel in Doha. On the way to the hotel, I had a glimpse of Doha from close quarters. The buildings were mostly glass and concrete structures most of them devoid of any color. Though inside the air conditioned car we were all comfortable I could make out that it must be pretty uncomfortably hot on the roads outside. I could hardly see anyone on the roads.
At the reception counter, a Filipino receptionist told me that I was entitled to one free overseas call lasting 5 minutes.
When I got to my room I called home and asked my brother to inform my German superiors via email that I would be late. Very late indeed!
Later I came to know that my German hosts missed that piece of information and had awaited my arrival at Frankfurt the day before, late into the night and departed not knowing what was amiss.
***
Later that evening...
I was back at Qatar airport and went through the body check again. The security had some trouble locating my passport, which they had confiscated before my wait at the hotel, but matched me to my photo on it after a prolonged search.
I learnt a few things about Qatar that I had not known earlier. Qatar is one of the few Arab countries that permit liquor consumption. It is one of the more liberal Arab states in other aspects as well.
Though I could still see women veiled in black from head to toe.
At the airport I sat watching the melee of people buzzing around.
American couples riding on their dollars out to see the world. Indians on their way home and some more onto westward destinations on their way to their hard earned jobs…Japanese tourists (or were they Chinese? Or Filipino? ) yapping in some pagan tongue. Young Adonis like males who could be of any nationality.
Just before I boarded the next flight I had to get my flight tickets verified. I was given papers which said that my destination was now Munich instead of Frankfurt and an additional ticket that allowed me to board a Lufthansa flight from there onto Frankfurt.
The Iraq war was just over and with the 9/11 fright, the airport security and staff were not taking any chances, especially since an American Military base monitoring Iraq still functioned on Qatari soil.
I was flummoxed when one airport authority asked me to expand the initials of the company that I was working for.
I told him I had no idea since it was German but he seemed unfazed.
I then heard him asking the next person in the queue, who claimed to be Spanish to intone the Spanish alphabets...
***
Onboard...
the flight to Munich the atmosphere was more informal in every sense. Liquid food flowed. And the scene was more party-like.
The passengers were mostly young German couples who perhaps had some nice holiday in some exotic foreign place and were homeward bound.
The German tongue confused me but I thought I had plenty of time to get used to that.
I would be in Germany for three months.
As soon as I disembarked at Munich I had my passport stamped and learnt that I had 15 minutes to catch the domestic Lufthansa connection to Frankfurt. I later learnt that to reach Endingen I could have as well got down at Munich. Endingen is almost equidistant from Frankfurt and Munich.
My watch said it was 9 pm local time, but the setting sun still shone over the horizon. The geography made all that difference!
At Munich I found myself lost in the huge airport complex.
But the airport staff were very efficient when it came to offering passenger friendly services.
Almost every screen I saw at the airport had information on when and where my departure flight was. I made an enquiry with airport security and in a jiffy I found myself riding a mini train to the proper departure pad.
As I boarded the Lufthansa flight I was exhilarated as well as tired. I had not slept a wink since leaving home.
***
It was 12 Midnight at Frankfurt...
…I came down a flight of stairs to the baggage collection counter only to learn that my baggage had been left behind at Munich.
I was devastated but instantly cheered up when the man at the baggage counter consulted his computer system and added that the baggage would be coming in with the next flight in half an hour.
Someone was supposed to pick me up at a place called "The Meeting Place" just outside the airport. This was where the new arrivals met their hosts.
I walked up and down the meeting place baggage in tow a couple of times hoping that the placard sized label pasted on my luggage that shouted "KOCHI, INDIA" would attract attention of anybody awaiting me. No soul. I had some loose change left over after my purchase of a pack of Camel cigarettes and a lighter.
I put some coins into a phone box and dialed my hosts.
I was advised to catch the long distance night train to Freiburg, where my hosts would be awaiting me early morning. I discovered that the subway ran just below the airport.
I bought a train ticket from an airport attendant who spoke reasonably good English. The train was at 3 in the night.
I had some time to kill.
I checked in my baggage at the cloak room manned by a couple of Africans. Then I felt free to walk around a bit.
I took a seat close to one of those areas designated for smoking and pulled out a Camel.
I noticed a couple of middle aged Asian men dressed in suits and ties entering and leaving through what seemed to be a back door. Indian businessmen on a trip I guessed. I seemed to hold their attention and I found myself at pain to explain to them in Hindi that I was waiting for my night passage to the South West of Germany. They asked whether it was Freiburg or Frieburg that I wanted to go. (The Germans would pronounce the first as Fryburg and the second as Freeburg). Frieburg was just an hour's drive by car from Frankfurt Maine. They explained that they were Pakistani taxi drivers and were waiting for their fare just outside.
Then with the camaraderie typical of Asians, they invited me for a cup of tea. I decided I had nothing to lose and cheerfully joined them.
We went through the back door to a seedy room where another Pakistani also spoke to me in Hindi and and asked me whether I would prefer more milk in my tea.
The tea was Indian (Pakistani? Sri Lankan?), he said and I noticed him dipping two teabags into a kettle of boiling water. They had brought them to Germany with them I guessed or maybe an Indian store existed somewhere. After a refreshing drink they took me along to show off their BMWs. They took pains in explaining to me the finer points of the of the various BMW class taxis that they drove across Frankfurt.
We had a hearty chat and they talked about their families back home (a bit wistfully) and when I asked them on smoking restrictions in Germany they laughed and said everything goes in Germany but take care not to litter the street. You could get fined for that.
At last it was time to leave and that was the first and last chat I had with an Asian in Germany.
I had never realized that Pakistanis could speak a tongue that Indians could so easily grasp.
***
It was 3 pm...
…and I was waiting at the deserted subway waiting for my train trip.
All was quiet and suddenly the speaker came to life which was followed by a collective wail from a few Germans waiting presumably for the same train.
I asked one elderly looking person accompanied by his talkative wife (?) what the matter was. He did not understand what I was saying. But then taking the context into consideration and the few English words he knew he explained in very broken English that the train was one hour late.
I realized I would have a very tough time communicating with Germans.
Also I thought to myself smiling to myself, late trains are not just an Indian phenomenon. I realized then that to the passengers, what had happened was a near catastrophe, in punctuality crazy Germany.
When I boarded the train I took a seat near the entrance and waited for the four hour trip to Freiburg.
I guessed it was now 48 hours that I had gone without sleep. I had lost track of the time hopping over all those time zones.
Nothing was visible through the sealed glass windows and I fell into a weary sleep without intending to.
***
I was woken by a jolt and when I opened my eyes I saw a large sign reading "Freiburg". I don't know what fifth sense had woken me up, but I had arrived at my destination. Another five minutes and I would have still been on the express train hurtling towards Basel in Switzerland and definitely in trouble because my visa was not valid on Swiss soil.
***