Arranging pick-ups at foreign airports is perhaps my
favorite part about traveling. There’s generally guaranteed to be this
overwhelming sense of “wtf” when you land and realize you don’t speak the language
/ have a local cell phone / really even know who is picking you up or where
said person will be. When you’re on the plane, everything is all wonderful and
still American…and then you land it’s like “shit…I’m in a very foreign place
now.”
I was not disappointed when I landed in the Addis airport
early on Saturday morning after ~18 hours of travel. Luckily, I have been to
Addis quite a few times before so I was able to speed walk my way to be
probably the first person on my plane to the Visa line – and then I was able to
reassure everybody that, yes, they had to wait in the disastrously long line.
But as the minutes in line ticked away (after probably 15
minutes I gave up pretending to be in awe of everything and just tuned into a
podcast…I then listened to two 30-minute podcasts before getting close enough
to the front to think it inappropriate to start another), my confidence that I’d
be able to find the driver for Selamta Family Project diminished…
Flashback to 16 hours before: about 10 minutes before I
boarded the plane in DC, I got a text from the US Director of the Selamta FamilyProject: “Do you have a few minutes to talk?”
I volunteer for the Finance team for Selamta and we’re in
the middle of a grant application…so I knew that the “few minutes” she wanted
to talk would probably be ~30 minutes reviewing the budget…and I literally only
had a few minutes before I boarded
the plane. I contemplated not texting her back, but ultimately guilt
overwhelmed me so I did, and I braced myself for the barrage of budget
questions that would inevitably come. (Marisa – just so you know – I do love
you!)
She called me right away.
No small talk…she jumped straight to the point:
“Do you know
who is picking you up in Addis?”
“Umm…Ishy was going to but he just messaged [about 10
minutes prior] to tell me his car is broken to Haile is going to pick me up
instead.”
[Actually realizing I should be thankful that Ishy messaged
me when he did. Would’ve been an unfortunate message to miss by just a few
minutes…]
“Okay and do you know where he’s going to pick you up?”
“Umm…no.”
“Alright…well usually they can’t come into the airport
because of security reasons. So don’t freak out if you don’t see him! Just get
your bags and walk down to the parking lot and I’m sure he’ll spot you!”
“Right…I’ve been to Addis before so I can vision the parking
lot area. But…I’m not sure I remember what Haile looks like.”
“I’ll text you a picture. Good luck!” [Hey Marisa…about that
text…I never received it!]
Perhaps the only time I’ve been less confident in an airport
pick-up was when I was messaging Cory Hoeferlin from the Istanbul airport on my
way to Jo’burg. It ended up that the only way I found him was by talking loud
enough about my problem in the airport that a tour guide overheard and made the
connection that his tour guide friend was with Cory – like what.
Back to Addis time: every time I’ve gotten a Visa before, it
has taken about 30 minutes. So when I clicked onto podcast #2, I started figuring
out Plan B – as I was sure it would soon become Plan A. Haile was definitely
going to assume he missed me and leave the airport. There were four Plan Bs in
my mind:
1.
Public
transportation – I’ve taken public busses around Addis before so I figured
I could figure it out again. Plus, Selamta is pretty close to the (I think)
well-known Bethel Teaching Hospital so I could probably communicate that with a
bus driver who would probably let me know where I need to transfer, etc. The
reason I was most apprehensive about this option though was because it would be
really hard to take a public bus with
two 50-lb bags in tow. I actually wasn’t sure it was possible. Also I wasn’t
sure if public buses came to the airport.
2. Walk down
to an internet café – I’ve hung out in Addis/Bole area enough to know there
are plenty of internet cafes. There would probably be a few within a mile of
the airport. I could just walk down to one of them and pull out my phone to
email Abel/Hailey my whereabouts. But again – two 50 lb bags in tow made this
one a little difficult.
3. Bite the
bullet and pay the international data roaming fee and just text Abel/Hailey
– This idea was especially attractive because I recently absorbed the rest of
my family onto my Verizon plan – which actually means – I recently stopped
paying my own cell phone bill. I actually tried this one but it didn’t work
because I’m somewhat technologically inept.
4. Cry and
find a ride/ hitchhike – Would’ve been a fine idea if I could articulate
where Selamta is located. But I quickly realized I could not do this when the
Immigration Officer asked me the address of where I was staying and I stuttered
out an inadequate response.
So without a reasonable Plan B, I only had one option once I
got through the Visa line (its own adventure of follow-your-passport as it
traded hands between FIVE immigration officers), I picked up my bags,
confidently shrugged off any taxi offers with a “no, amaseganalo” and headed to
the parking lot.
…which is where this story ends because I immediately
spotted and recognized Haile, who was beaming and enthusiastically waving at me
the second the parking lot came into view. With a quick hug and an exchange of
cookies from the US as thanks, we were off to run some errands and head out to
Bethel, home of Selamta Family Project!
[Of note: I wasn’t alone in my fear that immigration took
too long. Once I got internet, I saw that I had actually gotten an email while
in line from the Ethiopian Director of Selamta. He had assumed I missed Haile
and was finding my own way to Selamta!]
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