The Send Off
I’m sitting at the airport in Amsterdam right now. Amanda and I left Tanzania last night. The day was amazing.
We met with some members of a family that’s selling a piece of land in Boma. Our meeting went really well and there was genuine comraderie. The family despite their own troubles said they wanted to partner with Mama Lucy and her work. One of them said he often spots Mama Lucy around town with kids.
Alison, Amanda and I left Mama Lucy to bond with the family Kiswahili style while we bussed the table, only to hear their laughter fill across the yard over and over again.
We took care of some planning then went to Boma for a goodbye with the kids. You can’t stay still in Boma - you’re almost in constant motion, but not stressed or hurriedly. At one point, I turned a corner to an unforgettable sight: Amanda in a sea of children who were all imititating her dancing.
Seconds before, Mama Lucy delivered an especially powerful thought in her most casual of ways: “Some people only see activity. They cannot see reality.”
The tears came when the kids started singing a song of goodbye. And just like kids, the ones that seemed the most aloof while we were there were the ones that seemed most attached when we left.
We loaded up the car (and I mean loaded - there must have been 16 of us in it), and pulled out of Boma for the last time this trip. Kibo poked through the clouds yesterday, which was fitting. It greeted Chelsea and Amanda when they arrived, and it appeared on the days they left.
Amanda and I were pretty silent in the car, trying to memorize the sights and sounds and scents all around us. Amanda leaned over to comment: ”I feel like I’m in a bubble of love in this car.”
Shortly after we started driving, the 14 year old boy sitting beside me slid his hand onto my knee. He’d been diligently trying to teach me a drumming pattern since the day I arrived, and I finally got it yesterday afternoon. He was mesmerized by the scenery passing by, but still managed to stroke my arm every so often. I leaned over to Amanda to whisper: “what 14 year old boy would do this?”
Then we arrived at the airport.
[Queue suspenseful music]
Precision Air advertises that they won the award for the best airline in Tanzania. I don’t quite see why. Here’s what happened.
When Amanda first arrived in Tanzania, for some reason Precision Air tore off part of her return ticket, namely the ticket she was to fly from Kilimanjaro to Nairobi. No problem with most airlines, they’d just reissue the ticket if you have identification and the ticket number or confirmation number. Not so with Precision.
Problem #1: You must buy the same ticket again if the piece of paper gets lost.
By the time I caught up with her, she’d been informed that she’d need to buy a new ticket for that leg. I was flabbergasted. “Don’t you reissue tickets when someone loses it?” Apparently, Precision requires a police report and requires that the passenger purchase the ticket again.
OK. So let’s buy the ticket.
Problem #2: Precision Air doesn’t take credit cards at the airport. You have to buy the ticket for cash.
OK, let’s find an ATM.
Problem #3: There are no ATMs in the Kilimanjaro airport. The nearest ATM is in Moshi 45 minutes away. Our friends have long since left, and we have given them the cellphone I bought to use while here. Amanda’s flight leaves in an hour.
The on duty Precision Air manager is smug. What can you do? Nothing. Surely you can do something. No, I can do nothing. He is lying. He is completely callous. I hear my mother’s voice telling someone who was looking to be bribed: “look into my eyes. Yes, I can tell that your heart is very hard.”
My anger is rising. It is approaching Mom Level.
The guy sitting next to the Presicion Air manager at the ticket counter seems sympathetic. Amanda appeals to him. Is there no one else she can talk to? Sorry, that manager is the only person who can help you.
We try a few different angles, which includes me walking up to complete strangers and asking for their spare Tanzanian shillings. It was the first time I’ve begged, so I didn’t do a particularly good job. Strangely enough, people ask how much Amanda needs prior to deciding whether to help. When they hear how much (149,000 Tsh), they think it’s impossible and decide to keep their money, except for one man.
OK, let’s find a merchant who takes credit cards, make a dummy transaction and ask for T shillings back.
Problem #4: The only merchant in the entire airport that takes credit cards is the duty free shop, which is in the gate area (i.e., behind security screening, i.e., you need a boarding pass to get to the shop).
OK, let’s see if the manager will give us a boarding pass so we can go to the shop,try to convince them to dummy a transaction, run back to the counter and buy the ticket.
Problem #5: The Precision Air manager has mysteriously disappeared during the commotion.
Amanda returns to the guy at the ticket counter, who has called the Precision Air manager. Remembering that the last time we waited for Precision Air representative,we waited over 30 minutes before realizing we would need to wait for another hour, things looked pretty dim.
The guy at the ticket counter decides to do something remarkable. He logs into the system, issues Amanda a new ticket and checks her in. All the while, he tells us he could lose his job and be personally responsible for the amount of Amanda’s airfare for taking the risk. He is very nervous, but determined to help. His coworkers come over to tell him that he cannot do what he’s doing.
Why did he decide to do it?
He said that when we left the counter the first time, he felt an undeniable conviction that he must help us.
Turns out he knows Mama Lucy. He has visited the kids and even financially supported one of the young boys Mama raises.
He finds us in the gate area, just to see whether we could arrange to have someone come to reimburse him as soon as possible. The enormity of the risk he’s taken has sunk in even more and he’s getting harrassed by other workers. We borrow someone’s cell phone. After several dropped phone calls, Amanda must board her flight, but I still have a two hour wait. I finally manage to connect with Alison, who springs into motion to save the day.
It seems that everyone in the airport knows the situation. Passengers (the ones I begged money from) are looking on while I speak with Alison. Workers are making comments to our new friend as they pass by.
Just before my flight boards, our new friend finds me to tell me Alison has delivered the necessary funds to cover Amanda’s fare. He tries to thank me for it. We’re both insisting that it is the other person who should be thanked.
He wants to thank us for showing his coworkers an example of good faith and the goodness of people. After hearing stories of corruption and bad dealings, I think I understand why the example was significant to him.
On the other hand, I can’t thank him enough for helping Amanda when others wouldn’t. His parting comment was: “it’s been some time since I visited Mama Lucy. I think I shall take some people to visit her soon.”
And that, dear friends, is what happened when we left Tanzania last night!