Description: |
luck! I walked back to the camp site only to find that the people I hadbeen driving and staying with had packed up and left with my flipflops and my washcloth. I had ever said directly to them the nightbefore, Well, at least I still have my flip-flops and washcloth. I toldthem about how the washcloth had been part of a set given to myparents at their wedding. They left with it. Nothing to carry now buta packet of biscuits (cookies) to eat along the way. As I bid farewell tothe many friends I made at the golf club which is the place we werecamping, someone walks up to me and asks if I am Tia Anderson. I sayyes and he hands me a ticket saying someone had found it in thebathroom at the campsite. I bum the ticket.Walking to the hotel I ponder my situation. The airporttransit left 45 minutes ago. A taxi is $10. The airport tax is $20. I buyan overpriced package of peanut M&Ms, sit on the curb and feelsorry for myself. My plane leaves in 45 minutes. When I ask thereceptionist how long it takes to get to the airport she says about 30minutes. I take a deep breath, ask the taxi driver to get me to theairport, fast. At the airport I hand over half my airport tax and theleft-over coins as a tip, run into the airport. In a frenzy, I ask where tofind Kenya Airlines. Oh, says the guard So, you are going to Kenya,how is it?My flight leaves in five minutes! Im nearly yelling,Where can I find it? He points up the stairs looking disappointedthat I dont wish to chat. Almost tripping up the stairs, I go throughimmigration, they tell me I have to pay the airport tax. I pull out mylast ten dollars and explain my situation. They have already radioedthe flight to wait. A look of suspicion is quite evident as they ask forthe police report. Fumbling I pull it out and every other officiallooking document I can find. They like that sort of thing. After someserious-looking conversation in Chichewa, which I do not, by the way,understand, I get by with only paying $10, go through, in front ofeveryone, customs and rush down the corridor to the gate. Being late,I was the last one and somehow I hadnt gotten a boarding pass, it hadclosed already and I had my ticket. At the gate, there was about 15minutes of radio talk and rushing around with my passport, the policereport, my ticket, looks of suspicion, to and from some other place.Finally I am told to board the bus which takes us to the plane. I standon the stairs waiting for my passport and police report. They havediscovered that my ticket reads Dar Es Salam while I, truthfully, tellthem that my destination is Kenya. They are now VERY suspicious. Istart to smile and enjoy the fact that I am proving some sort of threatto them because I have no bags and am going to Nairobi while myticket reads Dar. They are rushing from Airplane Captain to desk clerkto each other gripping my passport and asking each other why I amnot going to Dar, when the very kind head stewardess, who happensto be a blonde British lady asks what the problem is. I hear them sayShe is an American but she is going to Kenya and her ticket is for Dar,and she is not Kenyan. The kind blonde stewardess says in a calmsweet voice that she doesnt see the problem, and that there isnt aproblem is there? The Malawian and Kenyan employees agree. Ialight the plane to Nairobi.I am back in Kenya now, beginning my internship inHuman Rights at the Kenyan Human Rights Commission in Nairobi. Ilove you all and appreciate the words of encouragement and theprayers I am constantly receiving. They keep me in good spirits andwith high hopes. Stay well.Love, Tiar fJ* - = . * • .g|U |
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Source: |
http://cdm17129.contentdm.oclc.org/cdm/ref/collection/hs-harmony/id/1680 |
Collection: |
Harmony School |
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