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Arrival Day (standard:travel stories, 3227 words)
Author: JuggernautAdded: May 28 2014Views/Reads: 2386/1830Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Trinidadians celebrate Arrival Day to celebrate the arrival of the first batch of farm labor from India on May 30, 1845 to work on British colony of Trinidad to work on sugarcane soils. Juggernaut celebrates his own arrival day in Trinidad on October 10,
 



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Juggernaut has no idea how to travel to Trinidad or what travel 

documents besides passport were necessary. He understood that the 

countries in the Caribbean were represented by High Commissioner's 

office of United Kingdom in Madras. Juggernaut decided to travel to 

Madras to find if he needs a special visa to travel to Trinidad as a 

student but he was afraid that the original admission letter to the 

university may get stolen or lost during the travel, and he has only 

one original document to submit to various agencies as part of travel 

arrangements. Then it occurred to him that if he can get copies of the 

original letter, he can submit the copies to the agencies. The idea of 

photocopying the original did not occur since he was not aware of the 

existence of photocopying  technology or machines to do it in early 

70's, at least not in his home town.  After a serious thought, it 

occurred to him that if a picture of the original document was taken at 

a photo studio, from the negative, many positive prints can be made. 

With this novel idea, he went to one of the oldest and well established 

photo studios in town.  The owner and the master photographer was a 

gruffly old man.  Juggernaut explained his idea to the photographer. 

“You mean to take a picture of a document?' the photographer 

did not understand at the first instance. 

“Yes, the original letter is placed on a white background to 

take a close-up shot of the letter; from the negative you can print 

very clear and legible original size copies,”  Juggernaut explained  in 

detail placing the original letter on the wall in the studio while the 

photographer was looking curiously. 

The photographer was fascinated and thought it was a brilliant 

idea and preceded with the idea to generate several very clear prints 

of the original admission letter.  The photographer was curious beyond 

making copies; he started was asking Juggernaut for details on how he 

got in touch with the professor in Trinidad to get a job and admission 

to Ph.D., program, and travel plans. He wants to gather as much 

information he could about Trinidad; its economy and value of Trinidad 

dollar as if he has other ulterior motives to gather information. 

Juggernaut was polite at first in answering his questions and left the 

studio with copies in a hurry to get away from the annoying questions 

of the old photographer. 

With several photo print copies of the college letter of 

admission, Juggernaut headed for the port doctor's office to make 

inquiries on vaccinations required to travel to Trinidad. 

The port doctor was a Bengali, looked eccentric and spoke like 

one. “Why you want to travel to Trinidad?” The doctor sat on a tall 

stool in his small dispensary in a trailer facing the harbor at the 

busy shipping port in town. 

“I just got a letter of admission to pursue my postgraduate 

studies in Trinidad,” Juggernaut gave a print of the letter to the 

doctor. 

The doctor, a heavy set man with long grey hair looked like a 

Bengali film director than a medical doctor. “First time I heard a 

student travelling to Trinidad for studies, I heard about famous 

Trinidad carnival and steel band music from the seamen travelled to the 

South America,” the doctor took a quick look at the letter. “Well, 

generally I give vaccination against Yellow Fever to the seamen 

travelling to South America, if you want to take it I will give to you 

free of charge,” the doctor slowly got up to get a vial. 

Juggernaut was happy to receive the shot as a precaution not 

knowing much about Yellow fever except reading in Encyclopedia 

Britannica. The next important step was to travel to his university 

where he just finished his postgraduate degree to meet with his former 

professor to make sure he sent his recommendation letter.  The 

university was located in the neighboring state around 300 miles away, 

an overnight journey in train. He boarded the train early hours of the 

morning with the original admission letter securely concealed at the 

bottom of the suit case and two print copies in the hand bag just as 

safe side.  The train arrived just after 4 pm at the destination. 

Juggernaut took a rickshaw to reach the campus few miles away, he wants 

to meet the professor before he leaves his office for the evening. 

Juggernaut reached the department at the nick of the moment; 

the professor was getting ready to leave when Juggernaut caught up with 

him. 

“Good evening sir,” Juggernaut greeted his professor; the last 

time he met him was several month ago before he left the campus for 

good to take up employment at his old college in his state. 

The professor was pleasantly surprised “Well, what brought you 

here suddenly?” the professor greeted Juggernaut with a kind look. 

“Sir, I received a letter of admission to pursue Ph.D., at the 

University of the West Indies in Trinidad and they were still waiting 

to get your recommendation letter, so I travelled hurriedly to meet 

with you on this matter,” Juggernaut spoke hurriedly as if he was 

running out of time. 

The professor looked at his desk for a minute and said “Yes, 

yes, I do remember receiving a letter from the professor in Trinidad 

requesting my recommendation letter.” He started searching his desk 

with piles of letters and files. Then he pulled the top drawer and 

removed an envelope with foreign stamps on it. “Why you want to go to 

Trinidad, of all the places in the world?” 

“I understand that it is an exotic place and I was familiar 

with the cricket players from Trinidad visiting India to play test 

matches,” Juggernaut's reply sounded naïve. 

The professor, a fair skinned man always in good mood was very 

good to Juggernaut while he was a graduate student. “Let me tell you, I 

did my Ph.D. in the United States several years ago and still make a 

small salary as a professor here. How much is the airfare to Trinidad?” 

“I am not sure; could be around 15000 rupees.” 

“I withheld my recommendation letter, hoping you will come to 

see me on this. I am glad you came. Now, fifteen thousand rupees is a 

lot of money, I guarantee you can make more money if you open a small 

shop with fifteen thousand rupees than spending on an airline ticket. 

PhDs., don't make much money. My brother, a pharmacist makes more money 

than I do as a professor; take my word on this,” the professor sounded 

real and earnest. 

“Yes sir but I want to travel to Trinidad not just for Ph.D., 

but to experience living in a different culture,” Juggernaut wants to 

steer the conversation towards the recommendation letter. 

“OK, I will write the letter tomorrow and get it mailed for 

you,” the professor was getting ready to leave. 

“Sir, I would be grateful if you can write it now so that I can 

mail it myself before I leave town tonight,” begged Juggernaut. 

“Well, the cleric was already left for the day and I want 

letter to be typed on my letterhead to make it official.” 

“I can type, I learned typing few years ago,” Juggernaut was 

persistent. 

“Ok, let's go the office room,” the professor started walking 

towards the office room where his office staff does typing and 

documentation etc. 

Juggernaut placed a blank department letterhead and two more 

blanks with blank carbon paper in between on the type writer to make 

two carbon copies and one original. The professor looked impressed. 

The professor started dictating his letter slowly holding the 

admission letter in his hand.  He was very detailed in giving strong 

positive opinions of Juggernaut using impressive words like fastidious, 

tenacity, relentless, dedicated etc., in describing Juggernaut's work 

ethics as graduate student under his guidance.  At the end, he 

recommended Juggernaut highly for admission to the Ph.D., program. 

Juggernaut profusely thanked his professor for giving such a 

strong favorable letter. “Well, good luck with your studies, I am fully 

confident you will be successful in your endeavors,” the professor 

signed his original recommendation letter and the two carbon copies. 

The professor kept a copy and was generous to give the original and the 

other carbon copy to Juggernaut; not many professors reveal the content 

of their recommendation letters to the students, but this professor was 

generous and kind. 

Juggernaut bade farewell and took a rickshaw to the night post 

office in town that closes late around 8 pm.  Juggernaut made sure, he 

wrote the correct address and checked again and again before mailing it 

by registered mail to make sure the recipient gets the letter of 

recommendation.  He securely kept the signed carbon recommendation 

carbon copy in his bag. Then he headed for the railway station to catch 

the night train back home. 

The evening was pleasant and Juggernaut reached the railway 

station few hours before the train arrival time. Though exhausted he 

felt energized for accomplishing what he set forth in sending the 

recommendation letter. There was not much of a choice when it comes to 

menu at the eateries on the rail- station; practically every stall sold 

deep fried unsweetened doughnuts called bora with hot chutney and 

tea.   Juggernaut got himself two warm boras with chutney poured all 

over it and a hot sweet milky tea served in a small earthen cup. He 

found an unoccupied concrete bench outside the covered area for cool 

breeze to sit and enjoy his dinner. 

Suddenly from nowhere an old man carrying a small bundle 

wrapped in a grey wool blanket appeared to sit next to Juggernaut. The 

man looked impoverished in traditional clothing. At first Juggernaut 

did not pay any attention to the old man sitting next to him. The old 

man started gazing and pointing his hand towards the clear sky as if he 

was looking for a particular star. 

“Can you show chamak Tara or shining star on the sky?” he 

pointed his hand towards the clear sky in the bright moon. 

“I don't know,” replied Juggernaut reluctantly still eating his 

dinner. 

“You look like a college educated man and you don't know the 

location of the star,” the old man accent sounded very local. 

“No I don't,” Juggernaut didn't look at the sky or at the man. 

“In old British days we were taught everything in the class; 

about stars, moon, sun and what not.'  The present day Indian education 

is no good at all,” the old man continued his monologue. 

Juggernaut was getting ready to get up and leave the man but 

then he saw a faint headlight at a distance getting brighter and 

brighter from the incoming train. Juggernaut was relieved to see his 

train was coming and left the grumpy old man to himself looking at the 

sky. 

The next step was to visit the British High Commissioner's 

office located in Madras for visa to travel to Trinidad. The 

receptionist, an English woman was very helpful, after consulting with 

her superiors she came back to inform Juggernaut that as a citizen of 

India, a member of British commonwealth countries, he can travel to 

Trinidad without a visa and also can land in London without a visa 

during transit on the way to Trinidad. 

The travel from Maras to Trinidad was an experience of life 

time for Juggernaut. Travelling on the air for the very first time was 

an exhilarating experience particularly when the plane was taking off 

and landing. The first leg of trip from Madras to Bombay and then to 

London on Boeing Jumbo jet was full of anticipation and excitement. 

Prior to this air travel, Juggernaut never travelled on air; the only 

experience with airplanes was watching its landings and takeoff at the 

airport near the college campus. Now it was real, sitting in a huge 

Jumbo jet heading to a foreign land. 

The plane landed in Heathrow airport in London. The airport was 

chaotic with passengers and airport workers. The airline arranged for 

overnight stay in a hotel in London.  Juggernaut followed other 

passengers to make his way out of the airport to get into a courtesy 

van arranged by the hotel.  During a short ride from the airport to the 

nearby hotel Juggernaut practically glued his face to the van window to 

watch the bright lights and tall buildings. He pinched himself to 

believe that that he was in London for real. 

Juggernaut checked into a luxury hotel Sheraton Skyline not too far 

from the airport. From the hotel room, he spent lot of time watching 

outside though foggy windows. For dinner at the hotel, Juggernaut wore 

an old plaid grey wool jacket his father purchased almost 30 years ago 

preserved in good condition. 

Next day at the airport while waiting for connecting flight to 

Trinidad, Juggernaut found himself in the company of many persons of 

African descent. Most of them were tall and big, almost two or three 

times bigger than Juggernaut in size.  One of them asked 

Juggernaut “where you were heading?' 

“West Indies” replied Juggernaut very politely. 

“Where in the West Indies?” 

“Port of Spain,” replied Juggernaut 

“OK, you were going to Trinidad then,” smiled the big figure. 

Juggernaut was under the impression that West Indies was one 

country with separate islands in the Caribbean and Port Spain was one 

of the cities.  Apparently, each island in the West Indies was an 

independent republic. 

The plane landed in Piarco International Airport in Trinidad. 

From the air, the island was small. The country side was green 

surrounded by bluish green sea. 

At the airport, a fair skin Indian looking man came to receive 

Juggernaut. 

“You must be Juggernaut,” the man gave a big smile. 

“Yes,” replied Juggernaut timidly not knowing what to expect. 

“I am Omar Khayum, your professor sent me to pick you up” the 

man gave a strong shake hand. 

“Thank you for coming to the airport to pick me up, I was 

wondering how to get transportation to the campus,” Juggernaut wondered 

about his name Omar Khayum. 

“I will take you to a Mrs. Lakhan's home near the campus, she 

boards few university students. It is a nice place and I live not too 

far from her house,” Omar took the suitcase from Juggernaut and placed 

in his car trunk with one hand. 

On the way from the airport, Juggernaut glued his face to the 

window to see the landscape outside.  For several miles, it was all 

sugarcane fields and then small towns.  The houses were built several 

feet above the ground with corrugated roofs. 

“You know your namesake Omar Khayyam was a famous Persian poet 

and a philosopher?” Juggernaut looked at Omar driving at ease. 

“Sure, every visitor I picked up at the airport said that,” 

replied with a smile.  His accent was different; certainly not British 

English or it has any American influence, it is unique to the Caribbean 

region.  Juggernaut has to take time to understand him; he used the 

expression down here at the beginning of every conversation as if it 

was his own style. 

On reaching a residential district, he stopped the car at a 

large two-story blue house with a wrap around balcony at the corner of 

Jackson and Henry streets in Curepe, a small neighborhood near the 

university campus.  Mrs. Lakhan came out of the house to welcome 

Juggernaut with a big smile and a friendly hand shake. She was a middle 

aged brown skin Indian woman in a plaid frock. Juggernaut was 

introduced to the other student boarders at the house, a student from 

Jamaica and a short fair skin student named Belal wearing thick eye 

glasses recently arrived from Bangladesh. Juggernaut expressed his 

gratitude to Omar for arranging the boarding facilities on arrival 

close to the campus. Thus, a journey that began in South India on 

October 8, 1973 with lot of anticipation and excitement landed 

Juggernaut in Trinidad on October 10, 1973, but it was only the 

beginning to what to come later. 

Four decades after landing in Trinidad, now living on Skyline 

Drive in Sioux City, Iowa, his thoughts once in a while goes back to 

his overnight stay at Skyline hotel near Heathrow airport in London, 

particularly the dilemma he faced in the hotel restaurant in selecting 

a desert from a collection of colorful deserts on several racks in a 

cart pulled close to him by a well-dressed waiter. 

In Trinidad, the Caribbean Indians celebrate May 30 as Arrival Day; the 

day the first batch of immigrant farm labor from India arrived on the 

island to work on Trinidad soils to plant sugarcane. Juggernaut 

celebrates October 10 as his arrival day, the day he arrived in 

Trinidad in 1973 to work on soils of Trinidad as a graduate student. 

Juggernaut celebrates arrival day on 10th October every year by 

cooking curry goat, the famous Trinidad Indian dish and drink cold 

Carib beer , a Trinidad beer while listening to his favorite Trinidad 

calypso music. 


   


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