Last day...and not a moment too soon

Sunday night, I head to the Mumbai International airport for my flight back to the U.S.

If I can survive til then. And not get arrested for assault either.

Me getting sick on Thursday threw a wrench into the getting-out-of-India plans. Instead of spending the weekend in Mumbai, I stayed in Pune. That left the question of how I will get to Mumbai on Sunday.

I figured that, it being the one day of the week Papa doesn't work, we would just drive to Mumbai. Easy peasy.

It turns out, Papa has to go to Mumbai for work on Monday. Even better, I thought. They'll drop me to the airport and spend the night with family, then come back to Pune when Papa is done with work.

Apparently that's no good. Papa doesn't want to go until Monday morning. And he doesn't want Mama to have to wait for him in Mumbai.

I spend all of Friday trying to settle the plans to no avail.

Saturday morning, before Papa left for work, he presented me with two options: take the train with Dadaji, or be put in a cab that would take me directly to the airport. We discussed both possibilities. He said we'd decide that night.

I assumed one of the two options would be selected. Silly me. I've learned nothing of how they operate.

I spent the day with my mother-in-law, having decent conversation and cooking together. When a friend invited me out to a movie, she readily agreed that I could go. What a great way to end the trip!

And then I came back.

And found out the plan was now for me and Mama to take the bus to Mumbai. She would come back the next day by bus. Even though Papa will be driving there and back that very same day. And Dadaji will be taking the train there in the morning. So we will all be traveling to Mumbai, but at three different times by three different methods of transportation.

Did I mention the bus would've been my last choice? See, there's a lot of hills between Pune and Mumbai. And the driving here is not so good. And even on the well-behaved roads of the U.S. in a little car on a straight road, if I don't have an unobstructed view out the windshield I get nauseous. So on a bus in India through mountains? That's a recipe for disaster.

I tried to tell my mother-in-law the plan made no sense. She ignored me. I told my husband the plan made no sense, and he told his mother the plan made no sense. Again, ignored. I threw in the bit about vomiting, and that's when it got bad. Ok, worse.

Hubby told MIL that I would get sick on the bus. She yelled at him that I should have been here tonight to discuss it instead of going out. Then she threw the phone at me. Yes, threw. Kids aren't the only ones who have temper tantrums.

I was here in the morning. I was here last night. I discussed and discussed and discussed with everyone. If anyone had mentioned the bus, I would've told them immediately that it wouldn't be a good idea. But no one mentioned it. I was given only two options, which were discussed in detail. I said I was fine with either one, and I went on about my business. Mama even called her sister this morning in my presence to say that I would not be coming to her house after all. The same sister we are now taking the bus to go see. They knew where I was this evening and how to get in touch with me. They could have just picked up the phone and asked if their new plan was ok. They did not. And somehow it is my fault for not foreseeing this completely new plan developing.

I shouldn't be surprised, everything has been my fault for two months. And nothing ever goes according to the original plan. So I guess really it is my fault for not anticipating it. I should have learned my lesson.

All I know is, somehow, someway, I'm getting to Mumbai tomorrow. And I'm getting on a plane. And I'm getting back to a world where it's hot in July, and people think before acting, and life makes logical sense. It can't come soon enough.