Brooks
I think it
was last fall I wrote about some of the interesting people I meet along
the way. It is fascinating who I get to talk to standing in line or just
passing by. Such was the case on our flight from Kitale in western
Kenya to Nairobi last week. The Kitale airport has changed a lot in the
short time since we've been coming to Africa. Where they used to have a
cinderblock building of one room, meat packing scales to weigh your
luggage and an outhouse about a ¼ of a mile away, now they have added
onto the building making an additional tiny room where about 12 chairs
are crammed close together for waiting, TSA attendants greet you at the
door and slide your bags through a machine of sorts and everyone looks
and acts very official. Just a few years ago going through security
meant men went with the male airport employee and women went with the
woman. Your bags were slung up on a rickety table and gone through
thoroughly … by hand, insuring that the hours you had spent carefully
situating everything in your suitcase so it would close were now all for
naught. Instead, you were left with a huge, jumbled pile spilling onto
the table and floor and trying desperately to somehow cram it all back
inside the bag again. So, times have changed and with it losses, but
also gains.
On this particular trip last
week, Fly 540, the airlines we used to use because it was the only one
that flew into Kitale, had mysteriously stopped and an airline called
East Africa Safari had taken over the duties. Well, most of the duties.
They, too, had only one flight a day, but for some reason not on
Tuesdays. It seems Fly 540 had gotten quite a few complaints. Some of
them apparently had been because if they had picked up extra passengers
in Lodwar, the stop before Kitale, then they simply circled over Kitale,
checked out the number of passengers on the ground, and if there were
too many, they just passed on by. If you were ticketed for that day, no
problem, your ticket would still be good for tomorrow. So, as anyone
knows, flexibility is the key to traveling, so for today East Africa
Safari is what we fly. After all, how bad could it be?
My first delightful encounter
this day was in the waiting room where, of course, one could easily make
friends with just about everyone just because of sheer proximity. There
were a number of us sitting there, but it was hard not to notice the
very "smart" (nicely dressed) Kenyan woman chatting away in Swahili on
her cell phone. Soon another, very nicely dressed, jewel-bedecked (a
gold ring of some description on each finger of each hand), robust woman
bustled through the door. With lots of "Oooh's and ah's!" and loud
greetings, they embraced each other warmly, obviously very surprised at
seeing one another here at the airport. So, the two women pretty much
entertained the rest of us during our 20 minute wait for our flight. We
all tried to appear like we were engaged in whatever bundle was on our
laps, but clearly each of us was listening to the lively sitcom going on
in front of us. Even Roger and the other men in the room glanced up
from their devotion to the Daily Nation long enough to find out what was
going on. I couldn't help it. Every time the second lady laughed, I
found myself giggling flat outright just because her laughter was so
outrageously contagious. Only later would I find out who this woman
really was.
Putt, putt, putt our plane
seemed to be landing, so we all stood up and made our way out the door
to the six foot waiting area to walk out to the parked plane. That's
when the second lady switched from Swahili to English to engage me in
conversation. "I think you like my laugh. Is that right? Where are you
going and what are you doing? Ah, is this man your husband (she was now
standing between us, her with her rather large self and all her
belongings)?" As with many Kenyans, her conversation was accented with
much shoulder touching and arm holding and big eyes and squeals of
delight. We laughed and chit-chatted about things like where we're from
and children and grandchildren. She was happy to tell me that she lives
in Nairobi but has a farm in Kitale where she grows maize. Quite
obviously she was a very wealthy and confident woman. As outrageously
sanguine as she was, her friend, who turned out to be her sister-in-law,
was equally reserved and quiet, telling me that she, too, lived in
Nairobi and had a bee farm here in Kitale that she had come to check on.
She sells honey in stores throughout Kenya.
During our little wait, Roger
and I kept checking out the plane that had just landed with East Africa
Safaris painted across it. Seriously, was this our plane? Our discussion
went along the lines of, "Well, it must be our plane. It's got to be
the only plane that's going to land here all day, matter of fact for two
days since it's Monday." We each reassured each other that yes, we had
ridden on such a small, commercial plane before. It was really no big
deal. Finally, not being able to stand it, I nonchalantly initiated a
little visit with a young woman standing alone waiting with the rest of
us. As we were talking, it all became very clear why very few of the
passengers had any luggage … just the two dumb wzungus who ended up
paying almost the cost of another ticket just because of the amount and
weight of ours. We figured this all out by ourselves as a man pulled a
metal wagon with our bags (along with a few others) out to the parked
plane. There he and another guy stuffed them into small cave openings on
the side of the plane, like on a bus, only much, much smaller. Good
thing everyone else was traveling light just so there'd be room for
ours.
Well, wish you could have seen
Roger and me just getting into the plane … me with my "purse" (just a
bit oversized) and a reusable grocery bag containing a rather large oval
basket, a gift given that I couldn't possibly leave behind, and poor
Roger with his tall, longlegged self trying to bend over making himself
thin enough and short enough to manage the height of the plane and the
narrowness of the "aisle." We were trying to manage ourselves, balance
our way up the hanging steps onto the plane, and somehow put the things
we were carrying in front of us so they would fit. That's when someone
shoved a little brown lunchbag at me, saying, "This is for you." Right
there at step one a guy stood with a little cardboard box filled with
tiny bags. I didn't see that he was doling one out to each passenger, as
is the custom on smaller flights, but really??? Do I absolutely need to
carry this, too? Disgusted, I already knew my gift included a tiny
bottle of water and a white roll, but took it anyway, just out of pure
gratitude and a "in-your face United" attitude. We finally managed to
get ourselves seated (no assigned seating I can assure you), but I was
thrilled to find that one in-law was seated right in front of me, while
the other right beside us (ok, across the aisle, which was literally one
foot, Roger and her knees even touched each other). So, the conversing
and laughing and comments continued. All at once the pilot interrupted
us to say that this was indeed East Africa Safari Airlines and we were
headed to Nairobi. He told us all about how it was going to be a great
day, nice weather and just relax and enjoy. All of us listened intently
waiting for any instructions in case of emergency, but none were given
as he finished up his spiel and we all sat in silence. But not to worry,
my gregarious new friend loudly greeted the pilot, told him thank you
for taking us to Nairobi and how nice it was to be with so many nice
people and friends. To which, in my surprise, everyone else agreed with
the typical Kenyan nodding of the head and a "Mmm" or significant grunt
that says, "I agree with everything that you just said." One guy from
the back jokingly did yell out, "Would you introduce the flight crew who
will be assisting us during the flight today and tell us the location
of the restrooms?" Everyone laughed and settled in, men behind
newspapers, women talking and shuffling and organizing themselves. My
new friend shoved something across Roger's chest into my hand. Taking
it, I glanced down at her business card. She in the meantime was
motioning that I give her mine in return (yes, I actually have one … ok,
it's not really a business card, but it is a card and it does have my
name on it and my contact info). So, here's the shocker, as well as the
explanation for her bedazzled, out-going self. On her card was the
beautiful green, black and yellow emblem of Kenya. Neatly written
underneath "Republic of Kenya, Parliament," her name was formally
written in bold black type Senator (Dr.) … . Well, who knew I was going
to befriend a Senator today?? Yesterday a little bedraggled, destitute
orphan living in a remote village, today a Senator … every day holding
its own mysteries and surprises.
Continuing on our flight, we had
to fly at a relatively low altitude because of the size of our plane.
This made it very noisy and not very conducive to conversing, so I
became entranced just staring out the window. It was pretty magnificent
to fly that low over the beautiful western mountains of Kenya and then
the Great Rift Valley. I could only imagine the elephants, giraffes,
hundreds of different types of gazelles, lions and other wildlife that
we were passing over … all of them migrating over the vast, vast plains
of Africa. And, then, of course, the Masaii tribesmen who tirelessly
move their cattle from one area of their land to another were somewhere
down there, too. Lost in the sea of what is only in Africa, only once
did I wonder about the reliability of our pilot (see photo below). But,
there was no sputtering or diving or rattling so I assumed everything
must be ok … with him and the plane.
Soon shanties replaced plains
and streets replaced roads and finally the tall buildings of Nairobi
stood plainly. Our effervescent pilot yelled back to us, "We are
approaching Nairobi; it's 25 degrees celsius and clear. We'll be there
in about 10 minutes." I didn't really think anything about it as we
rolled down the landing strip toward our parking spot in tiny Wilson
Field (airport). But, you can be assured that the Senator shouted out,
"Good landing, pilot. You've done a fine job today and it's been a most
pleasant flight." Either admonished for our lack of politeness or
because we really did agree, we all said, "Yes, thank you, asante sana,
nice flight," of course accompanied with a few gutteral mmm's which
said, "Yes, it was … a nice flight, a nice day!" And, for me, another
great experience, living the life, meeting interesting people, and
looking forward to reconnecting with some I've had the joy to meet
before.
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