Flying Back

Arusha to Spokane, March 20 - 21, 2018, Tuesday -Wednesday

It rained all night. As soon as I woke up, I texted Elizabeth, and later she called to say she was still in Arusha, but planned to return to Nmanga as soon as possible. She thought she might get to Kundayo before we left, but Ray arrived early and we left before 10:00. I left some money in an envelope with Mazo, who promised to give it to Elizabeth if she showed up. While we were on our way to the airport, Elizabeth called and we got to say good-bye once again. What a torturous journey she had just to give me her special gift.

All the way to the airport, I tried to soak in everything I saw along the way. It was a very gray, wet morning, but the colors of the foliage, flowers, kitenge clad women, street vendors, small dukas and bars, and even the pikki-pikki drivers brightened the landscape. This stretch of road is very familiar now. Going from the airport to Arusha, I note the landmarks and think about how close we are getting to Kundayo; on the reverse trip, I see the same scenes and think about how long it will be until I see them again.

Saying good-bye to Ray for another nine months is always hard. He and his family have become very important to us. I heard him tell an Italian guest at Kundayo that we treat him just like a son, and we are his children’s Bibi. And, he told us that when he labels Goodluck’s school clothes, he writes “Goodluck Mtui Yoder.” That really made me laugh.

Checking in and flying to Dar es Salaam wasn’t difficult, and even though I hate the airport in Dar, I managed our 3-hour lay-over there okay. We had lunch at some western style fast food place, and the food was just as crappy and over-priced as we should have expected it to be. Then, finally we boarded our Emirates’ flight to Dubai, where we landed at 11:00 p.m. (I watched the movie “Darkest Hour” and didn’t think it was all that great.) Then, we had to navigate through the largest airport I have ever seen and catch a shuttle bus to our hotel. Because I had wheelchair assistance, there was no problem getting to and through all the check points. It was just after midnight, when we checked in to the hotel, which was much nicer than the one we had stayed in on our trip to Tanzania. I decided to go straight to bed, as our wake-up call would come at 4:00 a.m. John decided to go to the hotel’s restaurant because they were serving our complimentary dinner until 12:30 a.m. I was barely awake when he came back to the room, and I have no memory at all of him getting ready for bed, etc.

The wake-up call came cruelly soon, and we were quickly up, dressed, and ready to board the shuttle back to the airport. We were actually there much earlier than we needed to be, but the hotel and shuttle service must have a set schedule for who goes when. Because I need wheelchair assistance, navigating the necessary security stops and getting to our correct gate was all done for us, but John had to hustle to keep up with our carry-on luggage. Soon we were back on another Emirates flight; this one would last for 14 hours.

There is little good I can say about such a long flight, especially when one is seated right behind a whole row of mothers with screaming babies. I felt sorry for the mothers, but also for myself since sleep was impossible. Anyway, here are some good things I can list: the food was much better flying out of Dubai to Seattle than it was flying out of Seattle into Dubai; the bathrooms were close by and there was never a line; we got lots of water and juice between meals; and I got to watch the entire season 8 of “The Middle.” (Maybe that last item doesn’t quite deserve being on the “good” list.) I tried to get up and walk about every so often, but by mid-flight my legs were aching, and my wicked ankle was throbbing. There ought to be an international law prohibiting flights of more than 9 hours unless the airplane has an onboard gym and walking path. I did not even get a small nap during the entire flight.

We landed on time in Seattle, and then had the bizarre, ridiculous, and absolutely unbelievable experience of being in a stampede of Indians pushing to get to the wheelchairs. I have never, ever in my life seen so many wheelchairs lined up in a boarding ramp, and later I viewed many more down an adjoining hallway. John agrees that there may have been 50 or 60 or even more of them all with attendants. Fortunately, we had been seated in the economy section closest to the exit door, so I was in front of most of the stampede. The person in charge of the wheelchairs kept trying to stop people from just climbing into them as fast as they could, but traffic control was impossible. My attendant quickly pulled me to the side and race up the ramp with me. Then, he called out that I was a “transfer” and maneuvered to the front of the increasing line behind me. Still, because the way down to the passport check has only one single-passenger elevator, it took a while for me to get down to where John was waiting for me to go through the passport/customs security check. I almost fell apart laughing when I thought how long it would be until all of those many wheelchairs got down that one elevator. They were probably still in line when our flight left for Spokane.

The young man who pushed my chair was amazingly quick and efficient, so we got our baggage collected and rechecked on to Spokane in relatively short time. This was in spite of the Emirates practice of piling part of the baggage on the floor instead of allowing it all to come down the rotating claim belt. Still, John and my pusher managed to gather our three suitcases very efficiently, and we were soon off through the baggage recheck and another security check. Then on to the gate, where we had a 3 hour wait. I had a small fit about that, but John had feared we wouldn’t make the earlier flight to Spokane. So, we got salads from Burger King and recharged our computers.

The 38-minute flight to Spokane seemed almost silly it was so short. We landed; Kate picked us up; and we were back in our house by 5:00 p.m. I was exhausted and went straight to bed as quickly as possible. John, however, stayed up for a while and began some unpacking. After sleeping for 16 hours, we were up and doing our best to stay awake all day Wednesday here. I did loads of laundry; John sorted through all the mail that had accumulated; and somehow we did not nap at all. Now it’s almost 7:00 p.m. and we think we will watch the Gonzaga vs. Florida State game. I hope I find out the final score before tomorrow morning.