Repeatable Processes

Another airport (or three) and another ordeal. We arrived at the Addis airport to find our plane was overbooked and all of us – Ashley, George and I – had been rerouted through Nairobi to Kilimanjaro, where we change planes for Dar. Plus, my luggage was 14 kilos overweight. I don’t know what’s in there except too many clothes, too many shoes and a lot of cameras and power supplies, but I had to pay $125 in excess baggage fees.

So they upgraded us our trouble and I was able to sleep most of the way from Addis to Nairobi.

My experience in Africa seems so devoid of repeatable processes. Everything is a crap shoot: will the airplane take off, will they ask you for your water bottles, will they make you turn off your laptop or put your seat back in an upright position? Nothing is certain. I have gone through security in Dar with big bottles of liquids; on the other hand, I have had my suitcase pulled out and examined to see if a nail clippers had a lethal nail file within. I’ve been waived through with excess luggage and I’ve been stopped and forced to repack suitcases so one weighed a few kilos less.

We just took off for Kilimanjaro with me typing away, legs up, chair back – and a glass of water about to slide to the floor. It cracks me up completely, but some of the planning is truly bizarre. Why would they take you through security twice – once when you enter the airport and once when you travel from the departure gates through the shops and into the gate area? Why would they scan your luggage when you’re leaving the airport? Why would they herd you into an empty room where you can’t spend money or go to the loo without leaving security and getting rescreened and then keep you there for six hours while fog lifted somewhere else? I’d be selling coffee, chocolate, manicures and foot massages if I were in a country where so few have jobs. Oh well.