Since my first post, I've had a couple fun adventures trying to get my bags back. I know this kills the suspense, but I still don't have them.
Yesterday, I took my first moto ride out to the airport to wait for the flight in from Nairobi. The flight was delayed, and no one really seemed to know when it was actually coming, so I asked around and had someone point me to a food stand across the street so I could have some lunch. I ate next to a guy wearing a Northwestern University Wrestling shirt. I was all ready to talk about the El and the White Sox but I soon discovered he was Kenyan, working in Rwanda training dogs for the police force, and he'd never been to Chicago. After a couple more hours at the airport, the Nairobi flight finally arrived...without my bags.
More than a little disappointed, I then started walking home, eventually found a free moto driver, and then slammed straight into a substantial language barrier as I tried to explain where I wanted the guy (and by guy I mean 15-year old kid) to drive me. Trust me, I tried the hand motions. After I'd attracted a good-sized crowd, someone who spoke english stopped to help, and I was on my way.
It was much of the same today. Back to the airport, wait for the flight, watch my bags not come out of the machine, say hi to police officer who takes my passport when I enter the baggage area, and head home. Today I followed up with the Kenya Airways office in town, though, and, after 3 hours there, managed to get assigned a reference number. Things are looking up.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
4 comments:
You are becoming versed in "negotiating the system." May the reference number bear fruit. - You haven't referenced what you're wearing these last couple of days. :) Mom
I share your mom's curiosity about your attire . . . and her good wishes about the reference number's fertility! XXOO Brett
Still wearing the same jeans and t-shirt I had packed in my carryon, though I was just given a couple of t-shirts to borrow.
mzungu, one way to get over emo baggage while in rwanda is to see a therapist... there is a good one located next to the coffee shop that offers the free wireless internet!
ps: i didnt read your entry--tho, i did read the title and skimmed through for keywords. in fact, i havent had the chance to read any of your entries. i just enjoy leaving you comments that dont really make any sense.
Post a Comment