Where or where do I start? Let's back up to the day before my departure. It was our beach day to go get that African sunkissed look before heading out on the next adventure. But unfortunately Africa seemed sad for me to be leaving and decided to spend the day in tears...literally, it drizzled all day. But that didn't stop us! Me and the boys swam our hearts out in a pool we found at one of the hotels!
So I should've known from this that things were amiss, but I was just hoping all would go smoothly...
Wake up 5:00
Leave for airport 5:45
Arrive at airport 6:20-30?
Say goodbye, go through security, and then the fun begins (or not so fun).
There are 2 men at a little "desk" right past security and they ask me if I checked in online. I told them no. They looked at my passport and wondered when I bought my ticket. I said I didn't know, but probably in May or June. They said that I had to pay $10 because they raised the prices since then or something...any ticket purchased before July 5 had to add $10. I argued but finally just agreed and then went to give him the money and he said I would do it up at the desk. (yeah, right...) He points to the machine behind him and tells me to check in there. Now pretty much anyone who knows me knows I am terrible with electronics, so I go up to the machine and try to copy the picture of putting my passport up to the scanner on it, but apparently I was too slow, because some lady grabbed my passport and started doing it for me. She answered all the questions it asked me about my luggage without asking me, but hey, she was quick. Finally we got to the end and it said I was checked in but could not print my boarding pass. She wanted me to be done, but I needed a boarding pass, so she tried again. This time we used a number instead of my passport, but we came up with the same result. She was done and working with someone else by this time, so I turned back to the 2 men and asked them for help. They said, "aya subiri dada" (ok, wait sister) so I did. After a couple minutes when it was clear they had no intention of helping me I asked them if I could just go up to the check in counter place and have them print it there. They agreed. So off I went.
I skipped over the carryon weight and size check station and got in line. The lady in line next to me was traveling with 10 bags. I could not fathom why, but she took them all off of the cart and stood them up there in line. When she had them all arranged her line moved forward one step, so she scooted each bag forward one step and continued with this one step process till she made it to the front of her line. This was an entertainment for me until the lights turned off. Apparently the power was out. But only for a minute and it turned back on. "Good," I thought, "They should still be able to print my boarding pass."
Along with watching the crazy 10 bag lady struggle I was also planning my best chance for getting my overweight bag on the plane without paying. In this airport the scales are the old fashion ones without digital numbers, so that helps a little. Also, they are out by the passengers to put their luggage on instead of right by the ticket man. When I got to the counter I quickly greeted the guy there and avoided eye contact with the bag lifter guy who reads the scale. I threw my light bag on the scale and quickly put the heavy one on with it. (One is about 10lbs under the limit, and the other is more than that over.) Together they were just over the allowed weight, but not enough to make a fuss about. He pulled off the heavy bag and checked the weight of the light one. (I was praising God for his lack of math skills, because I knew if this one was so light the other one must be heavy, but he missed that.) And besides, there were bigger problems at hand. They printed out the stickers for my bags, but were taking forever for my boarding pass. The man walks away and gets a lady to come help him. She works for a minute and goes to find someone else.
At this point, when there's obviously an issue, I ask, "Is there a problem?" He assured me it was just a little problem and kept asking me if I had ever been to Tanzania, where I was a citizen, and what the visa to New Zealand was for. He keeps typing and swiping, but to no avail. The person next to me finishes and the 10 bag lady comes up. She has a big fight about her bags and ends up going to talk to the manager all while I'm still standing there praying to get on the plane. Eventually the lady who was helping comes back and asks me to step over to her computer. So I did.
Unfortunately, her computer won't seem to print my boarding pass either. Another lady is waiting to check in and her child is screaming and kicking and throwing a huge fit, so the counter lady points to no where in particular and tells me to have a seat and wait. (there are no seats) So I walk away and leave her with my passport. I figure I'll go see if the fam is still trying to wave goodbye through the windows or if they left. They left. So I wander back to the counter where the annoying child is still screaming and push my way back in. (the clock is ticking!) She goes back to working on mine and I step through onto her side so I can see the computer. It keeps saying "APP required", but she kept saying, I didn't need APP. I didn't even know what APP meant, so I couldn't really help. She moved to another computer and I heard my plane being announced over the speakers. (tick, tock, tick, tock) But there were still a few people checking in with me, so I wasn't too scared yet. I was starting to wonder though if I would be late for school because I couldn't get on my plane. (And with those thoughts, the backpack and the heat, I stared to sweat.) After still more time, she came back and had the boarding pass!!! Yay! I was thrilled.
I went through passport control or whatever that is and then went upstairs to gate 5. Gate 5 was what my ticket said, and what they said over the speaker, but we actually boarded the plane from gate 4. (Good thing it's such a small airport that they are right next to each other.)
Hit security again up there, and then sat down for a minute or two. The lady behind me was on her phone so when she hung up I turned around and asked her if I could use her phone to call my dad. She agreed and helped me call him. (I wasn't sure on the number because when I call from the states I dial 25 digits and I only needed 10. But we figured it out and I got through to tell them I was about to board the plane. The lady was in first class so she got called to board, but I was on her phone so I just walked up with her and went through. The guy gave me a funny look, like, "you weren't called yet," but I just gave the innocent, "I have no clue what's going on look" back and he let me through. I hung up and gave the lady her phone back and then found my seat.
My seat...
the one in the row with 3 lap babies. Not infants mind you. Those babies that are almost 2! All three were cute, but one was evil! The one to my left was okay. I think she nursed on and off about every 20 minutes. The one on the other side of me was the evil one (Praise God for the aisle between us!) because if anyone told her no she would scream. And when her mom had food she took the fork and was stabbing her mom with it. Then she kept dipping it in the open butter and rubbing all over her mom. Her mom kept giving her bread and she would throw it. Then she got the jam and spread that on her mom too. The third baby was on the other side of her and he was a screamer. But he stopped about a third of the way into the flight.
The seatbelt light was on for over an hour in the middle of the flight because it was bumpy and I almost threw up, but tried to focus really hard and watch a movie. (The sweet child was kicking me for a whole movie, but she was quiet so I didn't mind too much). I made it till landing and then it was super bumpy again. I didn't throw up but when we went to get off the plane I thought I was going to. We were making our way off, but stopped somewhere in the first class. I don't know if those people never get sick or what, but I couldn't find a barf bag, so I just refused to let myself throw up. I also reminded myself that I had limited snacks and needed to keep as much in me as possible. Got off the plane and right onto a train. Splendid. But that was short and I didn't barf there either. Then off the train and straight onto a bus. Could it get any better? Hahaha...but I made it and now I am on a bench that also shakes and wiggles as the hoards of people walk by me, but I no longer feel like barfing, so that's a win for me!
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