Wishing for a chair

THE plane had just landed at the Soekarno-Hatta International Airport in Jakarta. I have never been here before. Naturally I was excited. I had been invited by the Asean Secretariat to conduct a Disability Equality Training workshop as part of its training programme on human rights. My long-time friend Lee Kim is accompanying me on this trip because my wife is busy with work.

After all the other passengers had left, I saw three ground crew struggling unsuccessfully to squeeze my wheelchair through the narrow aisle between the seats. There was no way they could fit my 24-inch wide chair through an 18-inch gap.

They were supposed to bring a cabin chair to help me disembark. The request for this service was communicated to the airline call centre for both ends of my journey several weeks prior to my departure. It was my responsibility to inform the airline of any extra need to ensure that the proper equipment and support are in place.

I have always made it a point to pre-book my seat as well. This is for my own convenience and that of the person helping me. It would be troublesome to have a seat towards the tail because he would have to push me all the way to the back.

“Is there no cabin chair?” I asked a stewardess who had informed me earlier I would be the last passenger to disembark.

“Just a minute. Let me check,” she said and walked towards the trio who were still figuring out how to bring the chair to me.

When they realised it was an impossibility, one of the men approached me and said, “No cabin chair, Sir.” He then asked if he could carry me.

I was not too thrilled at the idea. A misstep could injure either one or both of us. I have osteoporosis. A fall could fracture my bones, cause me to be bedridden for months and rob me of all my mobility and independence.

A similar incident where no cabin chair was available when the plane landed was still fresh in my mind. My head bumped hard against the luggage compartment as I was being lifted up from my seat. This is the reason I do not like to be carried for whatever reason. Accidents do happen no matter how careful or good-intentioned it may be.

However, I was keen to quickly disembark, get back on my wheelchair and be on my way. Persistent coughing had kept me awake during the past few nights. I was exhausted. My body was aching all over. I had to conduct a session the next day and wanted to have a good rest at the hotel first.

I reluctantly agreed to be carried but told him it would be better to have two persons doing it. There was no way he could carry me by himself. He came back with another colleague and got me out of the seat. Being more cautious this time, I made sure my head did not bump against the luggage compartment when they lifted me.

It was as uncomfortable for me as it was strenuous for them. I am not the lightest of person despite being slim and lanky. I breathed a deep sigh of relief when they finally set me down on my wheelchair. It did not show any discernible damage, not that I was anticipating it. My biggest fear is getting back a chair that is badly mangled in a foreign country. It would be as if my legs were broken because that is my only mode of mobility.

An escort was assigned to assist me. The young lady was very friendly and helpful. She picked up my luggage from the carousel. Because of her, we whizzed through customs and got our passport stamped in double quick time. She pushed me from the arrival gate right up to the taxi stand. We would have gotten lost if we had to find our way through the maze by ourselves.

We left the airport just as the evening rush hour was building up. The pelting rain made it worse. But our taxi driver was amazing or reckless, depends on how you see it. He expertly weaved in and out of the famous Jakarta jam, sometimes barely inches from the other vehicles. What we usually experience in Kuala Lumpur is mild compared to here. I will never complain again the next time I get caught in a jam back home.

I was in for an even bigger surprise when we arrived at the hotel. Before the taxi could drop us off at the entrance, it had to pass through a security checkpoint. One guard looked under the bonnet, another the boot and yet another the undercarriage with a mirror. The car door was opened to see who we were. At the same time, the glove compartment was searched.

That was not all, we had to pass through a second checkpoint where our luggage and personal belongings were scanned. After going through a metal detector, our bodies were patted down before we were allowed to get to the lobby. I have never gone through such stringent security measures before. This was far more rigorous than the security at the airport.

We were disallowed from taking photographs of the frontage of the hotel unless we had written permission from the hotel. This is understandable because this is no ordinary hotel. It is the JW Marriott. It was bombed twice by terrorists, the first was in 2003 and the second in 2009. Lives were lost in both incidents. The heavy security was to prevent another tragic occurrence. The other guests did not seem perturbed by the inconvenience. In fact, the tight security made me feel safer.

Lee Kim and I did not get to explore Jakarta at all. I was at the training the whole day. Even though I facilitated one session, I learnt more from the other speakers than I had imparted to the participants. Disability was discussed and dissected in so many ways that my knowledge on this subject has leapfrogged. I have not attended a training where so many experts willingly shared their knowledge and studies unreservedly. I shall write more about the training in next week’s column.

Most importantly for now, I wish that when we arrive at the airport later in the evening to catch our flight home, there will be a cabin chair to facilitate my boarding. I really do not fancy being carried into the aircraft. This is a basic necessity and every airport should have a few to serve the needs of passengers with limited mobility.