And there it is. An accurate summary of my flight to Kigali.
This is how it went: Once upon a time on Thursday, May 31, I said goodbye to this guy and hopped on a plane with a fellow traveler, Amanda.
We were excited, but hardly knew what was ahead (foreshadowing). The flight from St. Louis to Washington Dulles was easy peasy. The next stop: Brussels. My first time out of the country (besides Canada)! Sometime mid-flight, I turned to Amanda and said something like, "I just realized we are flying over the ocean right now." When I fly overseas, I apparently become very childlike. But it was a fantastic and magical realization.
The time difference was especially throwing me off, though, and I could not sleep. Instead, I indulged in watching Before Sunset, which I thought was appropriate because it is a story about a traveler, and alas, I am a traveler. It is also about romance, and in a way, I see the romance of falling in love with a new country in my trip; versus the very sweet American boy-European girl connection between Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy in the film. I also read my book. I also ate some nuts and airplane food. I also...oh, who cares, this was not the exciting part.
Amanda and I landed in Brussels, and the airport was quite sleek and modern, and everywhere I heard French and German people conversing. Here we go: some romance. But when we landed in Brussels, we were informed that our flight to Kigali had been canceled (of course). Fortunately, we were rerouted through Nairobi. Unfortunately, this would add approximately 5 hours to our trip. Were we prepared for an 11-hour trip to Nairobi? I think not. So, to distract ourselves, we went shopping.
The airport in Brussels looks quite similar to other airports I have visited.
Except for this. Cheese!
AND THIS. CHOCOLATE. I didn't take a picture of the complete collection of chocolates offered in the airport shop; clearly, at that point, my jaw was grazing the floor and I was wandering around aimlessly making strange noises. But then, I pulled myself together and bought this:
I'M SET.
Note to my mother: Please notice how responsible I am being by only purchasing four chocolate items. Another responsible act to note: Some of this chocolate still exists. In other words, I did not eat it all at once.
Though, I wanted to. Especially after spending some time on the Brussels flight to Nairobi. Amanda was sitting next to a talkative character, and although he had some interesting comments to make about Rwanda, he did not seem to notice that Amanda wanted to sleep. At one point, he proceeded to show Amanda 2,000 photos on his digital camera while I fell in and out of sleep; I finally woke up to the staccato sound of beeping and the intuitive feeling of Amanda's distress. But no bother, we were served some yummy fish TV dinners and a Super Krokant Belgian Quality Ice Cream bar. I managed to document the exact moment when I was handed this ice cream bar by the lovely Belgian flight attendant in my journal, which is now stained with chocolate fingerprints.
I've had beef pasta, fish in cream sauce, yogurt with a banana bar -- AND!!! I was just handed a Super Krokant Belgian Quality Ice Cream bar!!! I'm in heaven, or at least close -- 40,000 feet in the air or something like that. More later, must eat ice cream before it's melty.
And finally, the Brussels-Nairobi flight had to end at some point (see: 11 hours). Eventually, we landed in Nairobi and climbed the stairs into the sticky air of the Nairobi airport, where we met a friendly Belgian man who was returning home to Kigali. He has lived there for almost three years with his French wife and three young children. Kigali, he says, is a wonderful place to raise children. Kigali, we kept hearing, was a place we would love and want to return to someday. I was daydreaming of hills and fruits and probably slightly delirious from all the traveling; it was what time? We left on Thursday and now it's Saturday? Tomorrow's Saturday? I should have bought a watch. Then, we boarded our last flight, were handed warm towels and I konked out for the one-hour flight to Kigali.
But first: a beautiful moment of clarity. I was on the shuttle to The Pride of Africa (our plane to Kigali), grasping the hanging handle and bumping into strangers as the shuttle lurched around corners. I was tired. My backpack straps smelled like sour B.O. My clothes were stained with chocolate and chicken fajita sauce. Somewhere in the midst of still wondering what time it was, I realized I was listening to everyone's conversations -- these strangers who were packed around me in the shuttle -- and that I couldn't understand a single word being said. Perhaps it was the fatigue or the fact that I was possibly delirious, but I grinned openly and even cried a little bit. I realized something. I realized what I was about to do, and I felt completely alive. I felt completely alive as the minority, challenging myself to understand other people, other cultures, other traditions, other conversations.
This is what I came here to do. This is what I am here (alive) for. I know this.
And then, landing. After we landed in Kigali, I took a horrible picture of The Pride of Africa because it had made me feel pride, and I want to remember that feeling.
And now we are here. And I will attempt sleep. And we will see what tomorrow brings.
Yanna
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