TIA

Big fruit bats

This is Africa, folks.

I was reminded of that quite a few times last month as I was wrapping up vacation and traveling back to Clove Island. I had several foreigners unloading on me about various things they were experiencing that seem to be common to Africa:

The customs official they fought with over the definition of "multiple-entry."

The corruption that is rampant.

People who say they believe one thing and then act in contradiction to that (not limited to Africa, folks).

The yes that means no, because you really shouldn't have put me on the spot.

Personally, I'm over most of the things, most of the time. It's just some things some of the time that manage to get to me. And there's no real escape.

It kinda hit me when I was traveling back from vacation recently. I wasn't all that far from Clove Island. Just a long hop on a large plane and a shorter hop on a smaller plane. But travel is rarely simple despite all that.

I arrived at the airport in Mombasa, Kenya, and a saw two signs for entering the airport: "International Departures" and "Domestic Departures." The international door wasn't even open yet, so I went to a nearby cafe and had a leisurely breakfast. Finally, I heard some people speaking the Clove Island language and then saw them go into the domestic departure door. So I thought, "why not ask?" I went to the security guard who was checking tickets and passports at the door and he said "Oh, we're not using that door today. Everyone goes in here." Bonus: decent breakfast and cutting in line because he wouldn't let me wait after cutting to ask the question.

After security and wandering over to my gate, I sat down to read a book. I wanted to listen to music, but realized I didn't dare plug in earbuds for fear of missing an announcement (airports here are often very oral-dependent, rather than sign-dependent, see the case of the "international departures" door). So I started reading. All of two minutes later a lady who was dressed in island wear came over, sat down next to me, and started practicing her English. I visited with her for awhile and, when she got stuck in English, clarified in "Clovish". As soon as some of the other islanders on my flight heard me speaking their language, a guy 15 ft away yelled over, "Hey! She speaks our language? Is she married?" My new friend assured him that I wasn't interested, then continued talking with me. We exchanged phone numbers so she could come visit the next time she came to my island.

Boarding the flight (which was only an hour late), I was one of the first to choose a seat. Yes, no assigned seats on this flight! I chose a seat that I really liked, settled in, and next thing I knew I was surrounded by islanders. The seats in front of me, behind me, and beside me filled in, with no empty seats. I thought, "This must be a full flight!" Nope, not in the slightest. I looked back and there were a good 10 rows of completely empty seats. Islanders would rather sit next to someone they've only just met than sit by themselves. Being alone isn't good.

I was kind of wanting vacation to last a little longer, to make it home before really
reentering island life, but that didn't happen. Instead I got to make some new friends on the flights back. But as I was riding in the taxi from the airport to my home, a sense of peace overwhelmed me. This is home, these are my people, and I belong.