We changed planes in Detroit and then took off to Holland. I knew I had a thirteen-hour layover in Amsterdam, but I thought it would be great to spend the day in Holland. The odds were against me, it never stopped raining, and I never left the airport! The only gratifying incident about that day was the delicious coffee and a T-shirt I got for Edthe love of my life I left standing at Gate-E in Pittsburgh International Airport.

After an exhausting day in the crowded airport I boarded my flight and settled down into my seat with the realization that with every passing moment I was getting closer and closer to my aspiration. It was about half way between the Amsterdam and Bombay flight over the ocean when the most terrifying thought went through my mind. As I looked down at the vast ocean as far as the eye could see, the thought accrued to me, my luck I would survive the crash only to be eaten by sharks. That was the beginning of a panic attack that left me clinging to the silver throne in the sky and searching in vain for a brown paper bag. There I knelt at the throne and prayed! As I shared this with Dr. Rao later, he assured me I did not have to fear being eaten by the sharks; hypothermia would set in less than one minute. I said, so I would be eaten as a Pattypopsicle! I am not sure he got it (local Indians are not aware of popsicles, they are familiar with the term ice-lolly, Brit. usage.)

We changed planes again in Dubai and had another long layover.

It is there I saw with my own eyes, Oil Sheiks in their long exotic robes. The Dubai Airport is the most beautiful airport I have ever seen. There were tall columns, about seventy feet high made of gold and resembling palm trees. The women were fully covered with only a see-through screen for visibility at the eye-level, but I could feel their stares. I could not help wondering what they thought of me, a bare-faced American girl. I felt strange and vulnerable, and I felt like an alien, I felt like I had landed someplace I did not belong.

After leaving Dubai it was a four-hour flight to Bombay and we had brief stop to refuel at Abu Dhabi International Airport in Saudi Arabia. It was a refueling stop only, no one was allowed on or off the plane. This was obviously strictly enforced by the men in sand-colored fatigues that blended so well with the surrounding, contrasted only by the dark shiny metal of the automatic machine guns as they patrolled the perimeter. I could visualize in my mind the final composition of an image and I wanted so badly to get a picture but the voice of reason in my head said sit tight and quiet, leave the camera in your purse and try to blend in.