I traveled with my friend Benjamin to Kampala in preparation for his trip to Mexico for the YouthActionNet Global Fellowship retreat. We met up with his extended family who live in Nansana outside the city and all escorted him through some of the gnarliest city traffic I’ve seen (thank God for driving on sidewalks!) to Entebbe Airport! When I say all….I mean all. When flying was more of a novelty, it used to be common for large families to escort each other to the airport but these days it’s not as common. Well, Benja had an entourage of 13 people to see him off to his first flying adventure—aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces/nephews and…..ME. Ten bucks if you can find me in the photo.
I had given Benjamin several instructions about what to do in the airport but I was still nervous, so I watched him through the glass as he went through the initial bag check, and checked in with his passport to get his tickets. After we watched him leave the check-in area, I sort of turned to the family and shrugged like, “okay, we can go.” Confused by that notion, the family lead me with them to the upper restaurant (okay, only restaurant) in the airport, where you can watch the planes come in and take off. This is not difficult, given that there are approximately 3 gates and one runway at Entebbe Airport. Not only did we wait to see the KLM plane arrive, but we waited to watch him board the plane and see it take off. It left at midnight. My reassurances all along the way that “he’s fine”, “now he’s at the gate, nothing will go wrong” and, “hakuna matata” were received by deaf ears, as the whole family huddled with intense focus at the lookout window for over 2 hours. They watched the other few planes take off and land, with increasing anxiety and increasing frequency of looks over their shoulders at me…seated at a table drinking a soda. “Hakuna matata…I promise.”
However, I couldn’t help getting caught up in their excitement when I saw Benjamin walk down the boarding tunnel. After all of his hard work to get this fellowship, he’s finally GOING. I got a little misty-eyed and even held my breath with the rest of the family as we watched the plane take-off. I had this momentary feeling of: “Yeah, okay, I just put my best friend in a gigantic flying box which propels itself into the sky by what I can only assume is hocus pocus. Sure.” Putting myself into the family’s shoes raised my anxiety level a few notches but then I remembered a critical piece of information—if someone can survive the Ugandan bus system for 27 years…he’s going to be cool crossing the Atlantic in a Boeing 767. This remark only got a few curiously confused looks like “what are you talking about?” and “what’s wrong with the bus system?” but I know I’m right.
He should have arrived safely and started the workshop already, given that he made his connection in Amsterdam and didn’t accidentally pack a machete or a 4 fl oz. bottle of petroleum jelly or anything. I’m so proud of him– thanks for your thoughts and prayers along the way!
A little pre-flight ironing. It turns out he's one of "those guys" who walk off of 11 hour flights looking pressed and professional as ever. As a sworn sweatpants-and-t-shirt-traveling kinda girl, I say "ugh."
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The entourage, escorting Benjamin to the Departures part of the airport. Okay, the only part of the airport. It's a small airport. Benja is 3rd from left!
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Glued to the window as the KLM flight arrives from Nairobi. "What does KLM mean?" "It's probably Dutch, it's a Dutch company." "The pilots are white." "They're probably Dutch." "Will he get matooke on the flight?" "......not likely."
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The next day, leaving Benjamin's family to travel back home-- they spontaneously decided to give me this yellow polka-dotted dress approximately 4 sizes too big for me. But what good is it to have everyone staring at you on the streets of Kampala if you're not wearing yellow polka-dots??
