Baggage Claim
Dubai, UAE
I AM WATCHING my luggage circle around the baggage carousel in the Dubai airport with shock and dismay. The handle is partially extended and will not retract, the wheels are skewed and broken, the fabric is torn, my clothes visible through the rip. Delta has destroyed my bag.
I drag my bag past customs and out to the taxi line at the curb. I struggle with it as it no longer rolls. The handle extends only 8 inches which is neither long enough to pull the bag behind me nor short enough to fit inside the trunk of a taxi. The taxi driver places my bag on the back seat and takes me to my hotel, the Arabian Courtyard.
I have been to Dubai many times. I’ve seen the view from the glass floor of the observation deck of the Burj Khalifa, the world’s tallest building, ridden the chairlift at the indoor ski lift in July when the temperature outside was 107°, shopped in the ancient spice market. I’ve listened to the muezzin call the faithful to prayer. I have spent the night at the Burj Al Arab, the world’s only 7-star hotel.
I love Dubai, but this trip I am only passing through, spending one night on my way to Varanasi, India in the morning. I love this little hotel with its lobby of carved wooden latticework and brass-topped tables. I know the doorman Bakshish, a tall Pakistani guy in traditional dress and a turban. I have been here so many times, he knows my name and he knows I’m a flight attendant.
As I get out of the taxi, Bakshish comes to help me. “Bakshish!” I say to him. “Look what Delta did to my bag!” He takes one look at the mangled suitcase and the panic on my face and says “Ann! Next door! They sell luggage and they are open until 7 o’clock!”
I hurriedly check in to the hotel, drag my stuff upstairs and rush back down to the little shop next door. I purchase a bag and go back to my room to repack, worrying about checking the bag on my flight to India tomorrow, a bag sporting luggage tags showing all who notice that this brand-new piece of luggage belongs to an American. I think for sure this bag will get stolen, I’ll never see it again, I’ll end up in India with no luggage.
In the early morning my flight to Mumbai is obviously full as there are hundreds of people pushing luggage carts, checking in at the counter, gesticulating, talking loudly, weighing big bags on the little scale and shrink-wrapping all manner of oddly shaped merchandise. I have never seen so much luggage, computers, laptops, printers, televisions, kitchen appliances, electronics, boxes of all shapes and sizes, securely packed and shrink-wrapped.
It dawns on me what is going on. Dubai is a duty-free port. There is no income tax here. The majority of the workforce is foreign workers from India, the Philippines and other parts of Asia and Africa. They are hired for one- to three-year contracts and when they go home on holiday, they shop. They don’t just shop, they SHOP! I’m laughing. Why was I so worried?
No one’s going to steal my bag. It’s probably filled with dirty laundry!
Priceless. I want to take my gold and sell it in Dubai. I want to stay at the 7 Star hotel. Maybe if I sell all my gold I can afford it!!! It’s kinda hard being retired…the adventures are minimal in my world. You are a great writer and I’m rambling….
Ann, this is a genuine travel story with such fun details. We’ve all experienced a mangled piece of luggage, but pictures from the Dubai airport are priceless. Who would predict laptops and kitchen appliances are being shrink wrapped from their duty-free origin!