I Hate Africa Today

What follows is an e-mail I wrote while I was in a very bad mood. Be warned, it is very whiny.

i'm near the airport. not at the airport, near it, because can't get into the airport until 3 am, that's when people from my airline, Quatar Airways, start work again. I've been here since 3PM, when i was actually in the airport, trying to get on my 5pm flight to Doha. Unfortunately for me, the computer was down. I had an e-ticket. If you've ever been to an airport or are at least familiar with the notion of flying, you know what an e-ticket is. otherwise you can probably guess. it's a ticket that is electronic. e-ticket. it means no paper. when you need paper, it's called a ticket. no e.

I had an e-ticket, so I wasn't worried when my bag containing a paper itinerary was stolen. I printed the exact piece of paper again. no big deal, e-ticket. that was the fucking point.

unfortunately, here at Jomo Kenyata International Airport, the largest airport on this continent which God has most certainly forsaken today, the computer is down. You might expect there is more than one computer, and in fact i saw many. But instead of solve the problem of the computer, the airline printed a list of names that were allowed on the flight, everyone else was told go to home. Within four minutes of being at the airport decisively told that I would not be leaving. I was not told when I would be leaving, nor did anyone seem to believe me that something was wrong in my name was not of the microsoft word document that had been printed. They rather seemed quite glad that my problem was easy to solve: no searching on a computer, not arguing. They had a list. I wasn't on it. It was all very simple, so why was I
upset?

I said, you don't understand it's an e-ticket. I speak to a manager who is busy tearing pieces of paper at right angles and gluing them to other pieces of paper. Not a particularly reassuring task.. I explain my situation, Mark listens, he asks for my passport, and then looks at the list. He says I'm not on the flight. The only ONLY ONLY way he had to see if anyone could get on that flight was a list of names printed in Microsoft Word. I wasn't on it. that was decisive. No computer, nothing.

I thought he was sort of a prick, but i realize his favor is probably sort of critical to getting out of Nairobi. I ask him when the computer will work. He shrugs. I ask him if he can call someone. He says the office in Nairobi is closed today.

I asked when I could get to Doha, he said he didn't know, and that I needed a ticket. He said i couldn't prove I had a ticket, which would require my proving that I was on a list i'm not on. I asked him where the names on the list came from, he said he didn't know, and that I needed a ticket.I reminded him of the e-ticket. He said it was still a ticket, and I should know that. I feel a bit condescending, and ask him what the term 'e-ticket' means to him.

He gets sort of angry and asks the paper part had gone. I said it was stolen. He has the audacity to ask for a police report. had the patience not to punch him in the face. Of course I didn't have a police report! I was in Africa.Because I was really very angry, I told him that police in Africa are good for fuck all, and that there was no reason to file a police report. HE says without the police report he shouldn't believe me. HE says I am probably just making this all up
and that I haven't bought at ticket at all!! I told him to wait there and I would come back with a police report in ten minutes from Nairobi. He admitted that the police report didn't matter.

I asked, again, what to do. now he says I should go to town (Nairobi). I asked him if the office in town was open on a Sunday, as I thought he said it was closed and that's why he wouldn't call. he said i was right.. I asked why he told me to go to town, he said the office would open tomorrow. I reminded him that the flight leaves in an hour. .

I asked if the telephone worked, and if maybe someone else in Quatar Airways also had a telephone that worked in Doha or Cairo or New York or someplace where someone might even have a working computer. he said the phone worked. I told him to call, he said that wasn't good
enough because it's not usually done. Then he said it was expensive. I told him my airfare was also pretty expensive.

I told him i thought it should be done, and he asked why I was so insistent. I told him i didn't care to go spend another fucking day in Nairobi. He told me I was "Making excuses." I asked him if he thought I came to the airport without a ticket and thought making up a story would be a good way to get out of Africa; if I had spent a thousand dollars to come to Africa and not really had a plan to leave. He said he thought I was lying to him. That's when I told him to fuck off. My demonstration of maturity proved unfortunate, because he left
the room.

By now it was 4:30. I've been arguing with him for an hour and a half, and he still won't pick up a phone to call someone else in his GLOBAL AIRLINE. I sit in his office, fuming. I go to the public phone to call my travel agent in San Francisco. The phone doesn't work. the internet doesn't work. I'm at the larget airport in Africa, after all. I actually wanted to fight Mark right then.

It's now 5:01, my flight is the only flight in all of Nairobi that has left on time. I walk around the airport, I find mark. I decide that I could probably beat him up, but that it would not end in my getting on a flight soon. With very little bearings left, I keep my eye on the prize: leaving. After shouting for five minutes in which i said somethings I would later regret ('people like you are why i hate this fucking city, you are not doing anything helpful' and 'do your job and pick up the phone') we go to the office. I don't feel very mature anymore. He takes me to an office where five bored bureaucrats are playing with scissors and glue and ticket stubs. We are going to use
the phone, i think.

After telling me that the call was expensive, and me telling him that my ticket was expensive, he calls Doha. Immediately, they tell him i have a ticket. He looks kind of disappointed, but tells he that I do have a ticket. I tell him i already fucking know that. then they tell him that he should put me on the next flight out, he tells me this, I ask when it is, he says it's on TUESDAY. it's SUNDAY. I tell him that wont work. he tells me the flight which leaves at 4am is full.
I ask mark for the phone. While he is thinking about giving me the phone, I grab it. I talk to a nice woman in Doha. And once, hers is the most helpful voice in Africa. five minutes later I had a first class flight to Bangkok. It was so easy it was frustrating. my flight had left 30 minutes earlier. I had 11 hours of waiting in a parking lot ahead of me.

My flight leaves at 6 am. it's now 9 pm. It's not worth the 40 dollars to go do nothing in Nairobi. I've been drinking whiskey and cursing Africa with a UN worker at the bar down the street for the last two hours. I can't get in to the airport until 2 AM. I am going to spend the rest of the night drinking, since it's costing a whole ten shillings a minute to use the internet.

In the taxi to the airport, I had been sort of sad to leave Africa but now I can't wait. Something happens when you are traveling where you blame entire nations or continents for problems caused by a few people. I don't think Mark was the only reason i'm not sitting on an
airplane right now, after all, nothing else in the airport worked. But it's probably not all of Africa's fault. It would have been stupid not to expect traveling in Africa to be complicated and tiring on the patience, but I was really looking forward to leaving. I hate this
place right now, and i want to go to Thailand. I'm going to go walk around the parking lot.

Kilimanjaro: Glorified Hill

I am currently in Arusha, the most over-touristed city in Tanzania. As you may know, I came to Tanzania to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro, what I expected to be an over-glorified snow-capped hill in Africa. iTo my surprise and to my lungs dismay, it's actually a real mountain standing almost 20,000 ft. Tall. when you are six kilometers above the ocean, the air is both cold and oxygen-poor. Because we are fearless American travelers, my sister and I were not deterred by mere facts. We pressed up the mountain in only four days. Becuase we are from the mountains of New Mexico, we have exception anatomies which enable us to breathe the airs of the stratosphere. And because we have been hardened by the fierce winters of Chicago, we did not
complain about he bitter cold, even when we could not move our hands. We met Swedish Mountaineers who suffered frostbite days after the climb, but the only thing we found objectionable about our circumstances was the bitterly cold water we brought up the mountain.

On the third day of our climb, we reached Kibo Hut, the final base camp before summiting. We were advised to go to sleep at six PM, which despite our greatest efforts, was impossible. We woke up at Ten PM in the Arctic tundra, drank a cup of tea and started to climb. At three
we were at 18000 feet, where I first thought about vomiting. At four we were at 18500 feet, where I realized that I was going to vomit. By Six AM we had climbed five thousand feet to see the Sun Rise over the curvature of the earth, visible from Uhuru Peak. And it was not until I was coming down from the mountain, at 8:00, with Acute Mountain Sickness, which I would compare to the worst hangover you can imagine, that I actually vomited. And then I felt much better. So I have been to and vomited at 6000 Meters.

Really, in all seriousness, from the top of the mountain I could see that the earth is most certainly round. I could see down the Great Rift Valley to the Serengetti. While I am told they are receding, the glaciers on the top were bigger than I know how to describe. If one was not careful, you could fall hundreds of meters in the crevasses of the Ice. The Volcanic crater was enormous, as I guess I should have expected of the tallest standing volcano on Earth.

WAS IT HARD?
Now, you might wonder why, I, and individual of indestructible constitution, fell ill while others did not: It was in the name of Science. I was doing an EXPERIMENT. While everyone else who attempts to climb Kilimanjaro takes altitude medicine (Diamox), I joined the control group. So I can now confirm, though with a large confidence interval, Diamox works. If you don't take it, you will vomit after prolonged exposure to altitudes above 19,500 feet.

Coming down was a whole other story. I still had the worlds worst hangover (unique to the Diamox control group), and now I had to walk 15 miles with a big ass bag on my back down an enormous, icy hill.

I made it back, and I have restored feeling in all parts of my body. It was an incredible climb, and now I'm going to zanzibar, where I will sit on the beach of hte Indian Ocean for a few days. I think, after that, if I can afford it, I'm going to Rwanda.

Oh, and I had wacky dreams on top of the mountain. Here are some shoutouts:

John Saxton: in the dream that was by far the most debased from reality, I dreamed that I was at your WEDDING! Not only was I there, Jordan and I were trying to break up the wedding. They say that dreams on Mt. Kilimanjaro show you the truth, so if you know what's good for you, you will not marry that Asian girl you thought was cute at Jimmy's when we were playing Erotic Photo Hunt with Eric.

Bonnie Doyle: I haven't seen you in YEARS, but I had a dream that you and I were arguing with each other on television in Atlanta, and then somehow ended up in New Hampshire where your sister was baking chocolate cake. I don't think I've ever met your sister, but I did REALLY want chocolate cake. The dream reminded me that you promised to reveal your spies after I graduate..

Arrival in Nairobi, Kenya

I'm alive... in Nairobi. It's a big city, we spent the morning
looking for vegetarian food (poor Anisha has come to a place where
mocking vegetarianism is a national sport). Nairobi is big and...
well big. And as it turns out, if you're white like me, everyone you
meet can sell you a Safari! Anyway, we have a hotel for the day, we
are going to take a bus to Mombasa (which goes through the Tsavo
(home of man-eating lions)) and then make our way along the coast to
the Lamu Archipelago).

We were in Kenya for five minutes before we saw a Giraffe. I
was looking out the taxi window thinking "huh, Kenya kind looks like
New Mexico" and then the driver pointed to the tree that was moving
and eating another tree and said "do you know what that is?".

Oh, and Dad, you'll be glad to know: In our five hour layover in
Paris, Anisha and I irresponsibly took a train into the city (which
takes an hour) saw Notre Dame and then returned to the Airport. I have
photos, I've been to Paris, now i don't have to go back. check.

The flight was interesting, we flew over Karthoum, Darfur,
Lybia and all kinds of other places to which we can't travel. And as
a good show of African humor, the only films playing on the Kenya
Airways flight were "Blood Diamond," "Hotel Rwanda," and "Last King of Scotland". I
don't think "You're Going To Die When the Plane Lands" is out on DVD
yet.

We are fine. Don't worry. Africa is cool! more later.