I was curious to experience more of the surrounding countries, but now I was solo, on my own and paralyzed by my fears. I gave myself a stern talking to. Other women have traveled Africa alone, which means you can too. Did they possess some sort of super power that you don't have? No, they just decided to do it and made it happen. Buck up. I began to research a way to get to Rwanda by bus. It was almost impossible from Tanzania, and the word on the street was there were problems at the border, which did not allay my anxious state. I finally relented and found an airline that flew the route, but only two days a week. I booked a flight on line. My reservation was confirmed, and the airline would send an email about payment. The email never arrived and I tried to make payment happen on the site, twice, to no avail. I thought, must be a problem with the website. I'll have to pay at the airport.
I went through the first airport security check, to get to the ticket counter.
"You must go office. Outside. Pay ticket."
"Oh, ok." I went back out through security and found the office. The woman at the desk spoke very good English,
"Looks like we've cancelled your ticket for non-payment."
"I tried to pay on line, but it wouldn't take me to the right page."
"I'm sorry. The flight is booked now."
I sat still, running over the options in my head. If I couldn't get on this flight, the next one wasn't until next week. My visa was running out in Tanzania, and I wouldn't be able to come back through and meet Seri in Dar as promised. It was now or never. Why did this keep happening?
"Could you check to see if someone has cancelled at the last minute?" I was trying to be hopeful. We waited for her Internet to come back up, and while we sat, she asked me,
"What are you doing in Tanzania?"
"I've been volunteering in Moshi."
"Really? Thank you."
"Oh,” I was taken aback, “you're welcome. I was able to go to the International War Tribunal in Arusha, and I want to go to Rwanda to visit the genocide museum."
She smiled, "Let me see what I can do." She turned to her computer. Fifteen minutes later she found me a seat.
"Thank you so much." I handed her my credit card.
"I'm sorry, we can't take credit cards, we don’t have the machine."
"I don't have enough Shillings with me."
"There's an ATM down at the end of the airport.
"Ok, I'll be right back." Time was running short.
Out Of Service, was blinking on the machine. Of course it is. I lugged my bag back to the office.
"Where can I find another ATM?"
"I'm afraid that's the only one, the next closest is in Moshi." Forty-five minutes away. I realized then, that Rwanda was not going to happen and that's all there was to it.
"How much cash do you have, I’ll book you a one-way ticket." She clicked away on the keyboard, and gave me the total. I counted my money.
"I'm sixty dollars short." By now an hour and a half had passed and the flight was about to leave. Why hadn’t I been more persistent about tracking down the on-line payment? I always just let things roll. Why can’t I be more aggressive when it counts? I was about to miss this opportunity because I didn’t follow through, find a way to call, or something. I was so disappointed in myself. She watched me, silently, as though reading my thoughts.
"I’ll tell you what I'm going to do,” she said, “I'm going to book you on this one-way flight. When you land in Rwanda, get some money and book your return. On Monday when you come back, you bring me sixty dollars."
Tears pooled in my eyes,
"You would do that for me?" Sixty dollars is six hundred in Africa. Her job would be on the line if I didn't come back and pay her.
"Yes, now run! Go through security and I'll meet you at customs with the boarding pass, hurry!"
I tossed my money onto her desk and took off through security again. She showed up with my ticket.
“Thank you! I’ll be back on Monday.” I waved as I heaved my backpack onto my shoulders and ran.
I went to the second security check. The officer took my passport and looked at the picture. He looked back and forth between me and the picture, me and the picture. He put his hand out so I could not pass by and called someone over. They studied the photo closely, then me. Seriously? Am I going to miss the flight after all this because my passport picture is old? Think, think. Ah ha, I grabbed the passport from him and turned to the Tanzanian visa page, which included a current photo of me. They both laughed and said, yes, that’s you, and let me go through. I raced to the gate and ran out to my plane.
The door closed behind me and I settled into my seat, thinking about the kindness I had been shown. It felt good to be trusted. Whew what a day, and it was only ten a.m. I looked out the window to say good-bye to Tanzania when I noticed the mountain range was on my side of the airplane, the left. Wait a minute… the mountains should be on our right. We're going the wrong way. Did I get on a different plane in the confusion? Did she book me on the wrong flight? At that moment the captain's voice came over the speaker and gave us the current temperature at the port of Dar Es Salaam. Unbelievable! I turned to the woman beside me.
“Are you going to Kigali, Rwanda?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Do you know why we’re headed in the wrong direction then?”
“I didn’t know we were.”
I flagged down the attendant, and asked him where the flight was going. He said,
“We go to Dar Es Salaam first, then to Kigali.”
“But that’s the opposite direction, you could have picked us up on the way back over. That would have made more sense.”
He smiled. "I know."
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| Kigali, the capitol, sits atop a mountain |
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| in the city |
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| Rwanda is known as the country 'of a thousand hills". It's true. If you look closely, you will see that every hill is cultivated. |
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| a rural home |
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