An Evacuation of India

Probably my parents' worst nightmare is something going wrong abroad. We'd have to scramble to leave the country in haste. In April of 2020, we did just that. As COVID-19 descended, we found ourselves in a dilemma: leave India or wait it out. The risk in staying was that we were due in China for work and if we stayed, there would be no guarantee of being able to leave, not to mention our paperwork may expire and we could not get a visa from the consulates in the US. Therefore, when it became clear India was going to shut down, we looked for a way out. All commercial flights were grounded and only US Embassy evacuation flights were leaving. We got on a list and waited.

People in the US had been talking about "lockdown" to mean they were advised to stay home but they had no idea. India halted all movement with the roads cut off by the military. We could not go out to shop or run; you had to be off the streets. So our school issued a government-approved letter and with diplomatic plates on the van we were able to go in groups to the store a couple of times a week, but otherwise, it was a full lockdown. Our only saving grace was the embassy was still open a few times a week and we spent dinner over there, casually going through every beer in the bar on the generosity of our friend Uday and the surplus from the softball budget. 

Then the call came (email, actually). It essentially said "You are on a flight tomorrow night. Fill out this paperwork within 4 hours or you will be bumped."  Unfortunately, I got it at 10:40am and it was due at 1pm. They wanted all kinds of forms filled out with social security numbers and scanned documents. I spent the morning running to and from the office (a perk of living on campus). It was very stressful work in 100-degree temps. 

Meanwhile, we were selling, throwing away, and giving away most of our stuff. Because it was our final year in India, we had to ship our stuff to China. However, due to the haste in leaving, that shipment would occur after we departed. So we frantically took items to people's homes that bought them, filled bags full of stuff we did not need, and gave away many items. All items in the house had to be marked with a "take" or "do not take" for the movers who would come after we left. It would all sit there and be shipped without supervision at some point. 

A few hours later, we got an email that informed us that if we still wanted to be on the flight tomorrow, we had better submit our info. We panicked, having already sent it, and wrote for follow-up. The next morning (the day of the flight) we had heard nothing. Finally, we got a response back with a snarky reply. "You are not on that flight, probably b/c you did not follow instructions. Go back and read the email." I had more than a few retorts in mind but amazingly held back, and asked some embassy friends to look into it. Shortly after, the confirmation email came through. 

Our final hours were insane. Due to the evacuation flight, we only had one bag each for packing. Whatever had not been packed, given away, sold, or tossed, remained in the apartment. We had our great friend Faze over for a bottle of prosecco that we had from our trip to Italy to celebrate the end (or beginning?). We visited a friend for a glass of whiskey. A party was happening on campus and we stopped in for a quick goodbye to all who were staying. Grabbing all the beers left in my fridge, we carted everything to the gate. A group of families had gathered to say goodbye and it was a teary moment as we hastily said so long to those we'd lived with for four years, not knowing if we'd see anyone again. 

The bus ride to the airport was surreal. Normally, it is a parking lot of merging, horns, and chaos. This time, it was an eerie ghost town; not a car was on the road. The only deviation we took was around military barricades but we were permitted since we had diplomatic markings on the van plates and paperwork. The normally 45min to 1-hour journey was over in about 20 min, barely enough time to finish the beer. At 8:30pm, we pulled up to a dark, vacant airport with a lone American flag hanging over the entryway to the terminal. We took our place at the back of a long line and waited, inching forward every so often. The mosquitos swarmed in the swampy heat. Our flight was due to leave at 6am. The year's longest day wore on. 

America stands tall in the face of adversity

After a few hours, we learned that they were processing everyone on the earlier flight first. However, since some of the people taking the paperwork were known to us from the embassy, we were able to drop ours off and head for the doors. Around midnight we got in the terminal but no aircon was on. Since there were no other flights, there was no real check-in, and we were directed by some Marines to the bag drop. Normally this is a belted system with stickers and codes. Here is was a pile. We literally tossed our only possessions into a pile in the middle of the floor and walked away. Immigration, normally an hour-long disaster, took seconds. Since nothing was open, we headed for the gate. Nearly every light in the place was off, so the walk down was quite creepy. All of the stores were wrapped in shrinkwrap, so nothing could be touched, taken, or infected. 

A brief ID check was the only way in.

No rush to check in

Everything coated in plastic, wrapped up and dark

The Campbells alone in the terminal, normally filled with 50,000 people. 

They would not let us into the gate so we milled around. Finally, we were permitted into the gate area, but it was a long line where everyone had to show their ID and paperwork (I don't know who else they thought was there). Once we finally made it in, we settled down to wait. Soon an announcement came on and said we were moving gates. Seriously? I don't know who thought this one out but rather than drive the ONE damn plane that was at the airport a few gates down, they packed up 300 people and did the check-in all over again at the new gate. India. With a few hours left to go, we actually dropped onto the floor (the only time I willingly laid on the floor in India) and tried to rest. Some did. Then we were woken by an announcement and told we had to leave the check-in area for a security check. Grumbling, we departed, wobbled in place, and slowly inched back into the gate again. But soon the departure was upon us and everyone piled into the plane.

We were told to expect nothing on the flight. However, on each seat was a bag of food, full of fruit, snacks, and water. We also got several bottles of water throughout the flight, which had tv screens in the seats. It was as pleasant as any transcontinental flight we have had, except we had to wear masks the entire time. The waitstaff was very pleasant; every one of them did the round trip on a volunteer basis. Upon landing in San Francisco, a huge cheer went up. We were back in the US of A! I have never seen so many passengers appreciative and thankful to the stewardesses and pilots as on this flight. 

Landing in the US was normal, minus the typical amount of people. The airport was relatively chill, but yet more people than I would have expected given what we had just gone through. Since it was all done in a rush, and there was so much uncertainty about the trip, we had no onward connections. Sarah and I sat on the bags and used wifi to try to search a flight, though everything was $500/ticket or more. We toyed with connections, flying to Chicago and renting a car, and going to Detroit. The girls, exhausted no doubt, were escalating so we, frustrated, boarded the tram to the airport hotel. We checked in, paying far too much, but once we had a bed to lie in and a shower, found it worth it. Soon we searched out a flight and began to relax, days, even weeks of stress melting off. 

24 hours later we hopped back on the train and flew to Denver. It was vacant, and we struggled to find food. Our connection was to Chicago where we rented a car and did the long drive back to Michigan. Being back in our lakehouse was a relief, especially after what was essentially 4 days of hustle and travel. The next evening I drove to Grand Rapids and picked up our friend Faze. She would stay two weeks with us as we all were self-isolating. We did curbside pick up for groceries and relied on family to have stocked the fridge.  We celebrated Easter in isolation, and the girls, eager to play with their friends, would go outside and talk to them while sitting in boats and on docks, "separated." We did puzzles, worked online late at night for classes back in India, and watched "Tiger King." 

And thus ended a crazy evacuation from India during the pandemic.

PS - the unknown amount we had to promise to pay the government for these flights was never declared. We simply signed a promissory note and boarded the plane. No word came. Then, in October, many months later, we received a letter. The flights were over $2500 each ($10,000 for my family). We paid and submitted to our school (old school by that point) and, thankfully, were reimbursed.