Islamophobic or just camera-shy? How a US airline welcomed me to America

Discreetly, I checked out the elderly couple sitting next to me. They were deep in conversation, downing bottles of Bacardi Rum and Jack Daniels whiskey. Soon, they plugged in their earphones and started watching a movie.

I prayed to god desperately. I was nervous, restless and fidgety. Sweating. I slipped out the safety manual and pored over it. I prayed again, hoping against hope the aircraft would land safely. 

Actually, we were not hurtling through bad weather or bobbing in turbulence. The aircraft had not even taken off.  

It’s just that I hate, nay am terrified of, being in an enclosed environment with a bunch of strangers at a height of 34,000 feet. The handful of times I've been air borne, I have not been able to sleep or read or eat or talk, replaying episodes of Air Crash Investigation in my mind (I watch the series with maniacal obsession). An aviophobe, if you will.

I don't trust machines, however advanced, whatever safety record they may have, or clever pilots, or backup systems.

But I was pleased to be sitting in the Airbus A320 for the first time. 

I had also made the unfortunate choice of dressing all in black, barring my new blue shoes. I knew I stood out. The only Asian, and I guess the lone Muslim, on a flight comprising predominantly white upper-class Americans.

Flying from Las Vegas's McCarran International Airport to Boston, on the East Coast of the US, was going to be a nail-biting five hours.

I did not know that I was being watched. By the stewardesses, and fellow passengers. Airline staff I know has been asked to keep an eye on "suspicious" passengers, but the definition of that word is increasingly becoming disturbing. 

Who qualifies as suspicious? A passenger who sweats? Or one who takes photos, reads a book, wears black, prays, or has a certain name? A Muslim on an aircraft is suspicious unless proved innocent, eh?

What struck me on my way to the aircraft was lax security - what many would call in today's times - at the Vegas airport. In fact, I was pleased as punch on boarding the plane to see the cockpit door wide open and the pilots laughing just a few feet away.

Settling down comfortably, I whipped out my new and first smartphone to click some pictures of the interiors of the plane, and the cockpit some distance away with its door still merrily open.

As the time for take-off neared, I started getting shifty and restless - the usual rigmarole. An airhostess came up to ask me: ‘Ma’am. Do you need something?”

Surprised, I shook my head. A few minutes later, I noticed another one standing behind my seat, trying to peep into my phone which I was fiddling with.

I started to grow anxious. Another 10 minutes went by. It was 20 minutes to take off. Soon, yet another airhostess walked up to me, and said: “Ma’am, would you come with me.” It was a statement not request.

With a feeling of foreboding, I followed her. She took me to the back of the aircraft, in the pantry area, where she was joined by two other JetBlue Airways’ stewardesses. Like a gang, arms akimbo.

“Ma’am, why are you filming the aisle?” the plump one demanded. “I was not filming the aisle,” I blurted out angrily. “The other passengers are complaining about you,” she said. Her cohorts just glared at me.

“I just took a couple of photos…” I started to protest, only to be cut short --- “Ma’am, you are making the other passengers very nervous”.

Well, I hadn’t seen any sign of nervousness around me. No one had walked up to the airhostesses to complain; and the elderly couple sitting next to me couldn't be less bothered about what the rest of the world was doing.

“Look,” I said, “I am a journalist, I was in Vegas for a conference. I have spent the last four days clicking a lot of pictures, and that’s what I was doing just now. I was NOT filming the aisle.”

I wanted to argue about the idiocy of it all. There was pin drop silence in the aircraft behind me.

And then, I remembered with horror, I might have mistakenly made a video while fumbling with my new phone camera for pictures of the aircraft. If they asked for my phone to check what was on it, I would be found lying. Nobody wants to be caught lying to Uncle Sam.

But I had already said I was just taking photos. I decided to apologise, making a mental note to check on US aviation rules.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know clicking photos was against the rules,” I said, keeping my fingers crossed that they wouldn’t ask for my phone, throw me off the plane or worse, take me away for questioning by the FBI.

“The other passengers are very nervous about you,” the airhostess insisted. “Should I report that you say you were not filming the aisle,” she added, threateningly, picking up the phone next to her. I nodded yes and was told to go back to my seat.

It was time to take off, but we didn’t. Instead, we waited. I slumped in my chair, switched off my phone and closed my eyes. What if they made me deboard for being a “security threat”?

Fifteen minutes past takeoff time, people were getting restless, their collective hostility almost tangible.

The plump airhostess walked up to me again. “Ma’am, are you travelling with anyone else?” I wasn't and told her so. “When are you leaving the US?” was the next question. I told them December 9, five days later. She noisily walked away on her high heels.

Another five minutes, the captain came on the intercom. “Sorry for the delay, ladies and gentlemen. We are…ummm…looking into some issues and will keep you updated,” he said.

There was activity near the cockpit, which was still open. The airhostesses, the captain, were obviously wondering what to do with the Muslim journalist suspiciously dressed in black.

Another 20 minutes passed, in which time I assume they must have asked for a background check on me.

The intercom buzzed again: “Thank you for your patience, we will be taking off shortly. We are expected to land on time because the weather is… blah… blah… blah…” I switched off the captain’s voice in my head to thank god. We were soon in the air, 40 minutes late.

This time I knew I was being watched, by everyone. The airhostesses remained frostily polite throughout the ride.

On the bright side, I did not once remember to agonise about the plane crashing.

"Flying while Muslim"

I don’t want to call the above incident a case of Islamophobia, because Muslims are being profiled in the US (and Europe) in much worse ways. But I consider myself very lucky that I wasn’t unceremoniously dumped off the aircraft.

There's a reason why "Flying while Muslim" is an expression in popular use.

Consider these cases: Two Muslim-American women were kicked off an American Airlines flight in August this year because the flight attendant felt "unsafe”. The attendant also told them taking photos on a plane was a "federal offence”. It isn't.

Passengers at Midway Airport in two incidents were allegedly not permitted to travel on Southwest Airlines aircraft because their co-travellers complained they were afraid to fly with them because they were speaking Arabic, or appeared to be Muslim.

This April, Southwest Airlines deboarded a passenger from a flight at Los Angeles International Airport, again for speaking Arabic. The poor fellow was questioned by the FBI for hours. Just a week later, the airline removed a Muslim passenger from its aircraft after she traded seats with several other passengers.

Delta Airlines also dumped a Muslim couple after a crew member reportedly said they had been “sweating” and heard saying the word “Allah”. And these are just a few among many incidents.

Going by the reports, I would say JetBlue Airways was very nice to me.

In many such cases, often it’s about flight attendants being uncomfortable. That might be some consolation, except that one is never sure if co-passengers are innocent or equal partners in crime, especially when their fellow passenger is a Muslim/appears Muslim.

With reports of Islamophobia in the US gracing the news often, and the country on the verge of voting Donald Trump to be one of the most powerful men on earth - he has made his hatred of foreigners as well as Muslims very clear - it is not wrong to say that a large chunk of Americans are distrustful of Muslims, and willing to show it.

The what-ifs of my case bother me. What if the JetBlue crew had asked for my phone, found the lie? What if they had taken note of my flying nervousness and mistaken it for guilt?

I have looked up the rules regarding usage of smartphones on planes, and considering that almost everyone is a photographer these days, they aren’t really spelt out in bold, black letters.

Most airlines prohibit videography but not all are paranoid about it. They seem to allow photography on whim. I have used a smartphone on British Airways and Emirates aircraft without incident.

I also wonder if any other (white, American) passenger taking photos in my place would have been dealt with in the same way. Taken aside for questioning, asked when they were leaving the country or accused of making fellow passengers nervous. I don’t think so.

The US Embassy in New Delhi very kindly gave me a ten-year visa to visit their country. I’m not looking forward to it again.

And if Trump comes to power, I probably won’t even be able to.

Also read: Black deaths raise uncomfortable questions in US election year

Also read: Burkini ban: Brewing misogyny with Islamophobia, French style