- AMRIT BHANDARI
It was last November when I was returning from Bangladesh to Nepal after participating in an international workshop on knowledge management. My itinerary contained a four hour-long transit in the Hazrat Shahjalal International airport, Dhaka that offered me to meet many immigrant Nepali workers returning home from Malaysia and the Gulf region. Thanks to the approaching Dashain festival, the crowd appeared bigger than usual.
Transit hours are mostly painful especially for a frequent and seasoned traveller and when hours are long; even for occasional flyers, airport transit time is not pleasant either. I got taken a back when I found that some of these Nepalese workers were stranded in transit for last 16 hours. Few recounted that they have not had any food for 2 days. Others were crafting their arrival pictures in Tribhuvan International Airport anticipating that they would be welcomed by their family and friends with open arms. One young fellow in his late 30s spoke his heart, “I am desperate to meet my parents.” It has been exactly three years since I left my wife and daughter. I am restlessly waiting to meet my daughter who was mere five months old when I left home," another worker returning from Saudi revealed his aching saga.
When I listen to sagas of struggle and sacrifice, my heart filled with emotions and sheer kindness. Some of these returnees had spent half a decade in Saudi Arabia; there were few ones who were returning after a year of trial and tribulations in Malaysia and realizing that this was not right pursuit for them. By and large, returnees looked anxious, exhausted and bemused, as the transit woes didn’t seem to alleviate anytime soon. But finally, airlines authorities announced that it was time to board the plane. No sooner the announcement was made, scores of passengers rushed to the check-in counter as if there were bumper prizes for the first in line. The congregation was as haphazard as the political demonstration. Only after repeated request of airline staff to form a proper line, the crowd become little more orderly and disciplined. Except handful of foreigners, most of the passengers were Nepalese living overseas for work.
No doubt, all the passengers were impatiently waiting to get to their destination but our fellow citizens wee brusque and unusually restless. Many seemed to be ignorant of common rules such as making line, waiting for one’s turn and thanking the other for help, if any. For some time, there was an uproar brought in by the stubbornly absentminded crowd. Oops, the airport staff took a long breath. "Can you please help me form a line and respect others’ right," he was asking passengers. As I continued to witness the entire situation, I felt sorry for the staff that he was so helpless before a crowd that was taking his advice with a pinch of salt.
Even the most haphazard and disorderly act must come to an end, whatever the ways we took we all boarded plane. No sooner I grabbed my seat, I breathed a sigh of relief. The crewmember briefed about safety instructions to be followed on board, and the captain made final announcement, the plane took off. It had not even been 15 minutes since the plan took off and was still manoeuvring its ways to get to its route, our fellow brothers began to unfasten their seat belt and leave their respective seats albeit the seat belt sign was still on. The crowd began to form line in order to use the restrooms. One by one, literally every other Nepali passenger left their seat and consequently the line got surprisingly too long. When the cabin staff noticed such a long line in the plane that was beyond general control, she began to repeatedly ask passengers to come turn by turn. She was telling, "It is all for your safety. Please come to toilet in turn. You do not need to make a long line here." She was irked by the passengers' ways to use toilet.
As I became unusually vigilant about the on-going chaos and confusion with paranoid of being at a considerable height, I recalled an incident that took place at Tribhuvan International Airport few years ago that one of the passengers had opened the emergency door of a plane that was ready to take off. No wonder he was also a fellow countryman. While I understand that majority of us are not savvy travellers, but even at the limited engagements we come across with, we do not become thoughtful and deliberate to learn and improve our habits and skills.
We even do not care of the dreadful repercussions of our actions that harm ourselves. Especially when our feet are in alien lands, both our verbal and non-verbal acts in the public display our character and represent our nation. Any social act of indecency and indiscipline shatter our national dignity and pride. Keep aside all social etiquettes including the respect for others’ right and dining manners; these worker-travellers seemed to be oblivious of even the basics of air travel.
I was severely embarrassed to be the mute witness of what was happening around me. From her murmuring, it was obvious this problem was routine to her. Cabin crew seemed helpless but my extraordinary analysis revealed that these occasional worker-travellers were not to be blamed entirely for the mess. Soft skills such as dining out, speaking in public, or even air travel etiquettes can be learned only through experience and education. For many of these labourers who make to capital city for the first time from their home town just to fly overseas for work, none of us should take for granted that they better know how to behave.
Manpower agencies working for them are the ultimate pathfinders who could prepare them in advance just not on the areas of soft skills but also on the areas of workplace safety, insurance protection and workers’ right. And it’s the Nepal Government who must be vigilant enough on these agencies if procedures have been put in place and protocols have been followed well. A little act of ignorance can jeopardise the national image beyond its boundaries.
Bhandari is an anthropologist.
