I made it!

Hey everyone! I made it to Lilongwe! Here are the notes I compiled through last night (more on Lilongwe later):

Friday I began the great voyage. I ended up taking a cab to the airport with Joe, because my turn signals died on my car, and the already wary boy really didn’t want to drive it back after that. I managed to pack all my stuff into my big duffel, my rolly red carryon, and my laptop bag, making me rather mobile. Mostly I packed toiletries and random crap like scissors. I figured I can wash clothes and buy cheap new things like skirts. I do wish that I had considered ahead of time that aerosols aren’t really allowed in checked baggage (there are supposed to be more nuances to the rule, but they get all lost in practicality), because that’s how I bought my bug spray. I had to hand it off to Joe at the airport, but I’m glad I asked ahead of time. I don’t really want TSA rooting through my luggage if I can help it.

We got to the airport and tried to have breakfast. The only thing outside security was Starbucks, which has terrible food. There was a lot of crying involved. I procrastinated going through security until 20 minutes until my departure time, seeing as security had basically no line. As soon as I started through it, my name was called for “final boarding” on the PA. WTF? I hurried through, put on my sneakers as they called again, and sprinted to the end of the hall toward my gate. Basically, the first flight had been cancelled (thanks shitty weather!), and so there was mega standby for my flight, making my seat a hot commodity. The stupid thing was that I had checked a bag that they would have had to unload from the plane, which would probably have messed up the departure time, leaving me all that many more minutes to scream at the gate agents about how they suck and gave my seat away way too friggin early (ticket says 15 minutes, most regs say 10). But I made it, so no harangue-age was necessary.

We had to go through de-icing, and they stuff they sprayed on the plane clouded the windows and was pink and gooey. It was like Ghostbusters instead of de-icing!

I arrived in ATL and grabbed my bags, found the MARTA, and headed north. I got to the station closest to Emory and decided that since there weren't really any cabs around, I would try the 6 bus. It worked out pretty great. I love public transit! I met up with my sis, showered, and went to the wedding stuff. It was too cold for the lovely outdoor garden wedding they had planned, but it was still great and a ton of fun. Sunday I checked out, met up with Pro and Emily, and hung out in the lounge with them and the happy couple and other peeps. Eventually they all went to Waffle House, dropping me off at the MARTA on the way. I was slightly freaking because Afsheen had said that ATL was very strict about baggage rules, and that for international departures they wouldn’t take bags after 90 minutes before departure. I made it with several minutes to spare, but some poor Delta agent got the brunt of my panic when the stupid online check-in machine wouldn’t read my passport and kept telling me I had to go to the line instead of just letting me try the damn thing again. But it all worked out.

Once on the plane, our departure time was delayed. Someone wasn’t on the plane, so they had to unload his bag. Many, many minutes after our scheduled departure time, said moron shows up. He was some rednecky looking dude with a Jack Daniels baseball cap. He’s lucky more people didn’t notice him get on and/or be crazy enough to beat his ass. The captain came on the PA several minutes later and, barely concealing his irritation, announced that our missing passenger had arrived, but his bag had been way in the back of the cargo hold, so they had to unload all the bags, basically. And now they had to re-load them, including this guy’s. Thanks a lot, guy.

On the flight, they filled us with many beverages and dinner. It got dark around 7:30pm EDT, which is 11:30 in Senegal (where we will stop around 5am) and 1:30am in Johannesburg/Lilongwe.

We arrived at Dakar, Senegal at 1:20am EDT, 5:20 there, 7:20 in Jo’burg. Landing in Dakar was weird. It was strangely dark out, and the darkest parts seemed to have the most prosaic buildings. Upon landing, people got off the plane (apparently using stairs to the tarmac, as we weren’t close enough to the building for the regular jetway), and a slew of people in airport fluorescent yellow vests came from the back stairs to “clean.” But actually what they did was inspect all the seats, pulling out the seat cushions and rummaging through the seat pockets. They also were making sure all the overhead baggage belonged to someone. It was weird. We were there about an hour, but we didn’t get to leave. A few folks got on, but I still had no seatmate, so woo.

With the back door open, I could smell the air from outside. At first something about it reminded me of being in Europe. I think my brain just processed it as “foreign” air. It smelled humid and salty and oceany, which is actually more like a foggy summer day in Boston. But maybe something was different about the water itself, making it smell a little different.

Sunrise was about an hour later, after we were back in the air. This means that the plane only had 6 hours of night. I slept more after breakfast, but it was only marginally helpful. They did serve ice cream (those little Haagen Daaz containers). This flight is all about sleeping and eating.

I went to the bathroom, where turbulence began, which was fun. I returned from the bathroom to see the coast of Africa (Namibia, if the inflight map is to be believed). I took a couple of photos from the window. I wanted to get a better shot of the coast, but I was too late. Further inland, the big smooth sand surface turned into bumpier sand more cut by water. It actually looked like parts of New Mexico, although drier. Later on, things got real flat and empty, and it looked just like west Texas. It was like flying to Albuquerque.

I landed in Jo’bug, and one of the first things I saw upon departing the plane was a billboard… owned by Clear Channel. Not too exotic. Getting through customs turned out to be all too easy. When I got off the plane, I got into a big line to get my passport stamped. My particular agent didn’t ask me any questions at all. Then I got my bag and went to the “Nothing to Declare” side of customs. I handed my form to a guy who just seemed to be collecting them and nothing else, and then I walked right out of the terminal. I could have had all kinds of stuff in my bags! Nope, nothing to see here!

As I walked away, however, a man in an orange jumpsuit came up and said something about my bags. I thought he was some kind of inspector guy, but it turns out he was a porter and wanted to help me get my bags to wherever I was going. I tried to fend him off, knowing I’d have to tip him, but it just wasn’t worth fighting about it, and it turned out the shuttle stop was kind of far. My shuttle arrived after a while, and we departed for the various affiliated hotels. So far I haven’t really hit any major culture shock. The road to the hotel reminded me of a major road into Montreal, in that it looked like a slightly funky version of many highways in the US with factories and big billboards and car dealerships and crap like that next to it. Only thing is that they drive on the other side of the road and in the other side of the car. Weird. I kept feeling like everyone was going the wrong way.

My room was super interesting. It’s pretty tiny, but for one person it was just great. The bathroom was not entirely a separate room, as you will see in photos, but it was separated enough for my purposes. The plug was different from the one I have, so I used the last of my battery juice to upload photos and type some notes. It was so great to shower. The shower is kind of a step off the ground, but there was excellent water pressure and temperature. I didn’t get any dinner, since I didn’t get any cash, but I feel like I ate a bunch on the plane. I watched TV, although there were only like 6 channels, but they’ve had things like ER and Sopranos. They’re all at least a season behind, and they are featuring some things that went away a while ago (I saw a commercial for Chicago Hope, of all things). I watched part of a soap opera called Scandals! It was multi-lingual, which was fun (English subtitles too for those parts). I noticed in Jo’burg that people in multiple languages seem to say numbers in English. I heard an Indian guy do it, and I saw it on TV. Oh! On this news program where the guy was talking, and sometimes he made little clicky sounds! Clicky sounds! Are the best!

Once I get to Lilongwe, I have to decide what I’m doing for housing. I got an email from my contact in Lilongwe that she finally heard back from her friend (who worked on the last BRIDGE midterm survey) and I could stay at his house in his guest room. I kind of feel like I don’t want to, because I think it’s further from actual stuff in town and I kind of don’t want to have to deal with people at the end of the day. I figure I’ll see what the hotel is like and get a sense of whether there is some advantage to this guy’s house (wireless internet would be a pretty big draw). I just don’t want to offend either this woman or her friend, esp if the friend goes to any trouble to get his guest wing ready for me. Either way, it’ll cost about the same, I think.