Africa Part 2 of 10

The Good The Bad and The Funny,
Reflections of Kenya

Preface:

I know, I know. Only books should have a preface, but since this rambles on quite a bit, I think it qualifies. Besides, I thought it would be best to be upfront with all of my disclaimers and warnings, so here they are.

Although other members of the team may remember certain events differently, this is how I recall them. As I proceeded in the writing of this, it just kept growing. I experienced so much during the two week trip that I could not include everything. I left out so many details, but I have a feeling it is already too long and many people will either quit reading it or just end up skimming it.

I will undoubtedly get some facts wrong and even though I possess a vast knowledge of the Swahili language, I'm sure I will mispronounce (can you do that in text?) and/or misspell some words.

Another thing I should mention; sometimes text comes across differently than it would if I were saying it with the intended tone and body language. I apologize for anything that may come across wrong to somebody; I really don't mean any part of this to be offensive. I once heard that "Sarcasm is the greatest form of flattery". Oh, wait a minute, I guess I just made that up, but pretend it's an old saying because you might run across it on occasion. I tried to make any sarcasm or pun obvious to even the casual reader, so if you miss anything, consider yourself when looking for someone to blame.

I have opted not to use any names as most people don't want to have anything to do with me anyway. Besides, this is my story, not yours, so whatever I say goes.

That said; let's get on with it before I lose any more of you!






Thursday, August 5th 2004

The day had finally come for us to depart for Kenya. We all met at the Boise airport around 5am. We had been instructed to check our bags all the way through to Kisumu in order to avoid weight restrictions on "in country" Kenyan flights. So, after quite a bit of finagling at the check in desk, all the luggage got checked to Kisumu and we received paper copies of our tickets and itineraries (they had been e-tickets up to this point). Knowing the paperwork was done and the flight was scheduled to leave on time (like that should ever be a problem for a plane that has been sitting there overnight), I was somewhat relieved.

One of the worst things about airports today, is that your family and friends can no longer hang out with you at the gate until you board. So, we all said our goodbyes and had a prayer for safe travel and a good trip, then walked to the security gate. I had been designated the team photographer and therefore took a digital still camera, a video camera and even the laptop to store photos so I wouldn't have to worry about having enough memory cards, and in addition I had a carryon. When I got to the x-ray conveyor, I was instructed to take the camera bags off my belt and send them through the machine. Ok not a problem. Once I took them off, I was instructed to take them out of their carrying cases and also take the laptop out of its carrying case. Sheesh, anything else? Uh yeah, I had to remove my shoes. Eventually I made it through and after getting dressed again, continued on to the gate.

After the first couple of flights, we ended up in Washington (as was the plan). We had some problems getting British Air to find us in the computer (this was not in the plan). It was only a minor annoyance, and although most people were already on board or boarding, we knew we would get on.

At about 11:15am Eastern time we safely boarded the plane from Washington to London. This is not that big of a surprise, I suppose, as boarding a plane is usually not all that dangerous in the first place. As luck would have it, I was sitting between a couple of people I didn't know, an American lady on the left and a guy to my right who was wearing a suit and he looked Italian.

I don't know a lot of rich folk, so you all should be able to relate to my next thought: Next time, let's board from the back of the plane so we don't have to walk through all the cushy seats on the way to our please-sit-sideways-because-your-shoulders-are-too-wide seats. This was the largest plane I had ever been on, but I think that most planes have the same basic layout. Here is my play-by-play take on boarding:

I entered the plane and the stewardess, who was young, cute and smiling radiantly atop her high heels, checked my ticket stub. As she zeroed in on my seat number/letter, her smile went from a "1st class smile" to a "coach smile" and she told me to cross over and go way, way, way, back. So feeling like somewhat of a lowlife, I crossed over past the spiral staircase that wound up to the upper first class seats (well, maybe it wasn't spiral but it may as well have been). As I passed, I got a small glimpse of leather lazy-boy recliners, along with the smell of freshly roasted nuts and buttered popcorn. There seemed to be a bit of a party atmosphere up there and I believe I saw the unmistakable swirling lights from a disco ball. I walked through 2nd class (reclining seats with footstools and privacy curtains between seats). The stewardess there was already busy giving the passengers damp, warm towels to freshen up and was bringing them drinks. I stumbled through the 3rd class seats, not bad, roomy and comfortable. I kept going and eventually passed from the 3rd class section to the No class section. I was winded by the time I got to my seat, which was right in the middle of a couple of fellow lowlife strangers, struggling to find enough room to stash their carry-ons. I saw no stewardess in sight; I was parched from my walking tour of the Jumbo Jet.

Once everyone was seated, our elderly stewardess wearing "sensible" shoes shut the aisle curtain between NO class and 3rd class, just to remind us that we are the cheapies. Later she brought by drinks, I asked for a coke and got a shot-can of coke. It's kinda like a shot-glass, except that it's made of aluminum and has a pop top. Thanks a lot, could I get another case of these please?

Most airline seats, as I recall in my limited flying, have their own designated space under the seat in front of them so that you can "make sure your carry-ons are securely stowed in the overhead compartments or completely under the seat in front of you". Well, in this particular plane, there was no divider under the seat in front of me to separate my space from that of the dude beside me. I had my fairly large carryon shoved under the seat (in case I needed to use my pillow, sanitizer or change clothes). That didn't leave much room for my feet, but there was still enough for me to contain myself in my own "area".

Well, Luigi (who had taken his shoes off, as had I) didn't seem to be able to control his feet, and if his foot "accidentally" touched mine one more time, I was ready to slap him upside the head and make him and his imitation Armani suit, sit in the lavatory the rest of the flight.

Eventually, after making sure no one else on the plane wanted anything more, we got a token airline meal. Luigi dropped some cellophane wrap and had to get it, and then he dropped his foil between the tray and the seat. Then he knocked his water bottle onto the floor. What a slob. As if that wasn't bad enough, he spilled food on his crotch. At least I hope that's what happened, all I saw was him picking up something off his pants and eating it. He had kinda taken over the armrest so I sat there with my elbows stuck to my sides, watching out for whatever he was going to knock over next. Luckily, he went to sleep soon after the "meal", so that I could rest easy, but no way was I gonna close my eyes!

Now maybe I don't get out much, but on that plane, I discovered one of the greatest inventions this side of urethane wheels (for you skateboarders out there). In the seat back in front of me there was a small monitor. There were controls on the armrest; an idea that could definitely use some more thought. Anyway, there were 15 or so channels, some with movies, others with misc. recorded TV shows. However, the invention I am referring to is the channel that displays flight information. It has all kinds of facts that the average person would never know, such as:

Local time at departure point, local time at destination point, ground speed, outside temp, time left to destination, and distance left to destination. But the single coolest feature is the GPS tracking. There is a map showing the entire flight route and the current position and direction of the plane. It cycles through a few magnified screens so that you can tell exactly what you are flying over. This might have been a little more useful if I had Luigi's window seat instead of mine, but none the same, it was a very cool feature. I got to thinking that next time I buy a car (somewhere near 2012), I could get one of these monitors for each of the kids. No more "Are we there yet"?, "How much farther"?, "What city is this"? Of course, on the downside, I may start hearing stuff like: "Dad, why did you pass our exit"? or "Dad, don't you think it might be a better idea if we take 215 down to 62 then go east on 44"?. At which point I would say "yeah, yeah, can't you just pick on your sister or something"?

Well, at one point we were just below Greenland with 2hours and 26 minutes to go to London (1301 miles). We were traveling 644 MPH at
37000feet with a tailwind of 198MPH and it was minus 47 degrees outside. Sheesh, who'd a thunk it, a tailwind of 198MPH. With a tailwind like that, even an AMC Pacer could almost hit 150, almost.

We made it to London, 3 flights down, 2 to go. We were a little late boarding because the plane was "left in the sun too long" and was too hot inside. Now, is this something that is new to them? If the plane is on the tarmac, and the sun is shining, uh, don't you think it might get a little hot? Are these the same people who we keep reading about that leave pets in the car during hot summer days?

"OK Fifi, I'll be back after I get my hair done. I will bring you back some water because they say it is supposed to be 110 degrees today... Oooops, I almost left the window open, somebody could have stolen the change from my ashtray. There, with the window up, you will be safer."

On the upside, poor Fifi has the rest of his life to figure out how to get the door open.

Whoa, off on a tangent again, back to the airplane....

When we did board, I saw what they meant. I was starting to have second thoughts about wearing my thick, long sleeved rugby shirt. By the time I got through the upper classes, I was withering. I did finally get a window seat and so I melted into it and collapsed against the sidewall.

At this point of the trip, I was getting a bit tired. Couple that with the suffocating heat and lack of oxygen, and I couldn't help drifting off into various states of consciousness. The next thing I knew, I woke up mumbling, "There's no place like home, there's no place like home". I noticed we had hit cruising altitude, it was minus 52 degrees out and the AC was on. Once I awoke from my slumber, I could not go back to sleep. This was OK though, I had a window seat. I had a window, it was all mine! I could look out if I wanted to, I could lean on it if I wanted to, I could pull the shade if I wanted to, heck, I could even breathe on it and draw little happy faces anytime I wanted to. So as I was enjoying my newfound "window-freedom", through the clouds I saw another plane going basically the opposite direction. This was fine, but it seemed to be about 200 yards away at exactly the same altitude we were. I could be wrong, but isn't the sky pretty large? I was thinking that maybe we could keep more distance between us, say 2 miles. We were so close that I could see the "Next Oil Change" sticker on his windshield. Also, I couldn't be sure, but as I watched it disappear into the clouds behind us, I could have sworn that some guy in 1st class was playing with the electric windows. I was beginning to think that the window seat may not be advantageous after all, but enough about the near miss.

I loved the GPS map. We passed directly over the Alps, near Switzerland and Austria. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that the hills were alive. It was very interesting to see all the steep mountains and the roads that ran along between them. Every so often, where the valley between the mountaintops would allow, there was a small town. Well, at least it looked small from the plane; I imagine it was actually life sized, just not many people or buildings. Most of the mountains were green, however, some were rocky and some were snow covered. Next up was Sicily, a place that I have heard about, but had never really known where it was or what it was like. Well, there it was. It is a fairly large island surrounded by beautiful beaches (at least they were beautiful from 7miles up). It looked like a nice vacation destination; I didn't notice many large-scale hotels and such. Very cool, I guess the window seat is paying off after all.

Next on the tour was the northern part of Africa, which is pretty much the Sahara Desert. This was basically, for lack of a better word:




SAND. Yup, sand as far as I could see in all directions. This went on for hours (at 500+MPH), that's a lot of sand. I'm talking a LOT of sand. If I had penny for every square mile of sand, I would be up front playing with the windows in my leather recliner.

It looked mostly flattish from my viewpoint, with some "drifts", which were probably sizable dunes. It was clear and sunny and it looked very hot. Somebody was very serious when drawing a line in this sand, it went straight off into the horizon, and I assume it was a road of some sort. Did I mention the sand? There was quite a bit of it.

Normally, I would now interject some witty (and very funny, by the way) SAND humor.

Such as:

So then the SANDman walked into the SANDbank and, after making everybody go to sleep, put all the SANDdollars in a SANDbag so he could buy himself a SANDwich. Headlines in the SANDpaper read "SANDman behind SANDbars".
But since I don't have the time or space, I'll spare you from any jokeS AND puns, or not.