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here are many frustrations for Americans in India whether traveling or working. Things are not organized at home in the same manner, and the hierarchical organization of everything makes it difficult to get a decision and action because the case must be considered and sent upward in the structure a number of times to find a person with authority, interest and security to act. So no matter how upset one gets, the people one blows off steam to are usually the innocent. There are all around many splendid examples to prove Dollard’s frustration aggression theory. The truth of the principle in action is a bit hard on the foreign relations of Western countries in the East. Somehow, frustrated people here become aggressive and hardly ever regress unless in methods of dealing with other human beings, nor do they withdraw. We become angry and say things that are uncalled for and most tactless. I am no exception.

At the railroad station in Mysore where I went to arrange transportation back to Madras, I found things most frustrating. Everyone wanted transportation, and reservations were uncertain. Josie and Brenda were staying longer than I could stay, as I had some important meetings to attend. After I had been assured a seat as far as Bangalore, I started to buy a ticket. The clerk would not accept an American Express traveler’s check. So I made him a little speech about how India was not encouraging travel when they refused to accept traveler’s checks at railroad stations, as they knew that it was unsafe for women to travel with money. The young man and a number of other clerks stood and looked at me politely, and then he said, “Madam, it will be necessary for you to speak to higher authorities about this.” Well the polite answer made me chuckle all day, because he knew as well as I that I would never be in India long enough to channel that complaint up to some authority who will take action. And certainly high authorities have so many other more urgent decisions to make than that railroad ticket offices will cash traveler’s checks for American women.

And with this introduction, a description of the return trip is in order. It promised to be rather humdrum in comparison with the trip over, but nothing of the sort. My reservation out of Mysore was made along with a teacher from the United States on a trip around the world. From Pauline King’s description of the foot and vehicle travel of last year, it was my feeling that we should not return to the hotel after the big event, but stay in town and take the first train or bus we could get. But everyone said my fear was ungrounded, and assured me that by engaging a taxi for 6 a.m. it would be possible to make a 7 a.m. train.

The bearer brought my coffee and lunch for the train and called me at 5:30. At 6 everything was in readiness, and my traveling companion and I were on the porch of the hotel, but no taxi was in sight. She was already in a foul humor as she had not been awakened at 5 as requested, but at 5:30. She busied herself surveying the grounds to find the taxi, but it was not to be located. By 6:30 I decided it was impossible to make the train. So having with me my typewriter, I set to work on the journal. By this time other people were about. Many guests were leaving for other spots. All of the hotel help was out for tips, though a box for tips was presented when hotel bills were paid.

As the hour passed, my friend became frantically upset. She wanted to make a plane out of Bangalore for Madras where the following day she had a plane reservation for Ceylon. She began to berate the people at the hotel for making no effort to help guests get transportation, though the manager and office assistants were not present. She said the expression “they couldn’t care less” so aptly described India. She started overgeneralizing. She said, “And to think we are wasting our millions on people like this.” I cautioned her to be careful as she could spoil more with her words than could ever be purchased with dollars. The hotel, three stories high, has been built so the circular porches are like a stage in the middle. People above were awakening and were looking at the spectacle.

At 7:05 the taxi arrived. He got a good going over, but said he could make the train at another station. Everyone agreed that it was possible. Chasing a train with a doubtful driver did not appeal to me, so my typing went on and I had a leisurely breakfast. Age rather than wisdom keeps me from chasing the impossible. The driver caught the train. Later at the West End Hotel Bangalore, where I awaited a train, I met Americans who saw her at the airport. She was speechless. The emotional tension caused her to lose her voice.

One of the things I said to the girl was that she was here to learn India, and this was India, a fact one had to accept. While she decided, a bearer made us laugh when he said, “Hurry. Don’t delay us, Ma’am.”

After a leisurely breakfast and last-minute visits and photographs, I rode into town with Brenda and Josie, and had to run to get on an 11:15 train. I told my friend that I was sure the world wouldn’t stop if I did not return on time. In reporting my calm in time of storm to Dr. Hariharan, who is always trying to get me to cool my heels while things catch up with me, he said to the others, “Miss Huskey will be a guru before she leaves India.”