The Indian Luggage Problem M Sheridan 2004

 

Indians have the worst luggage I’ve seen, worse even than the Irish. As a child I was embarrassed by the string bound suitcases and shameless blanket rolls carried on the Holyhead – Dun Laoghaire ferry. This was Irish working class-ness, an hereditary indifference to style among those who would rather spend their hard earned money on a few pints than a new case. Times have changed, and the 1970’s Pint of Guinness and 20 Major preference has gone, Ireland has changed its attitude to appearances and Habitat is selling well, so, probably, is Samsonite. But not in India. Samsonite is in fact not selling too well at all, despite the attempts to promote it. Its main competitor, VIP, has an ubiquitous advertising campaign, and is probably fairing slightly better. Neither company stand any real chance of success in the way that they have been able to in Ireland, India is different.

Traditionally, luggage and more specifically the business of portage has been about necessity in India. In many respects it still is, seeing two men carrying a fish tank full of water and fish on a moped proved this to me. Luggage as a fashion item or statement is a new concept here, and one that may take a while to catch on. Portage is a means of thing-movement, bags are selected foremost for their strength, size and cost. Suitcases and trolleys are of sturdy economy and size is of far greater consideration than style. This does not mean that the average Indian is unconcerned with style, the issue is not one of a sartorial nature, nor indeed one of humility, rather it is an issue of necessity, even sanity. The fundament is that of luggage handling, in short, Indians cannot handle luggage – they treat it like shit.

The Indian traveller has no choice, wherever he goes, his luggage is abused. At every opportunity, the coolie will throw luggage to the floor, smash cases against trunks, stuff bags into filthy spaces. All stowing facilities are indecent, everybody involved in baggage handling delights in mistreating their quarry, biting the hand that feeds them. ACAB – all coolies are bastards. In its inaugural Indian journey, a beautifully crafted Italian case will be reduced to a stinking heap of broken shit. A single flight will render each checked-in item totally and utterly fucked. Your Indian knows this.

An Indian knows that if he spends good money on a lacquered ‘Worldproof’ flight case, it will be a scuffed, scratched, filthy embarrassment after its virgin voyage. Instead, the informed, resigned but discerning Indian buys cabin luggage that he can keep with him at all times. Everyone else simply gives in and buys disposable or terrible luggage – plastic bags, gunny sacks, cheap plastic suitcases made in Chinese sweatshops, hideously coloured canvas trolley cases from cheap market outlets, huge, nasty chintz-patterned trunks -and simply watches it deteriorate without anxiety. And who can blame them?

To travel in India by any transport means, one must accept the fate of one’s luggage. The happy traveller must resign himself to scruffiness in this respect. He must expect luggage ruination, for it will happen. He must be proud to arrive at his destination looking like an uncaring, unclean, unabashed piece of shit. Everyone else does.