Accra, Lagos, Kigali

Is 45 minutes enough time to catch a transfer between flights in the Accra airport in Ghana?  Opinions vary.  The airline, who booked this transfer did so within the legal limits.  The travel agent trusted the airline to not do something crazy that would get 9 Americans and 2 Chinese teenagers stranded on the wrong side of Africa (from the point of view of our plans).  The baggage checkers were skeptical, though. Christina, who was very helpful getting of our 22 bags checked, advised, “Have a plan”.  In Accra, I hurriedly asked an attendant at the gate. She simply relied, “Oh my!”. 

Here was the plan. Go to the bathroom before we land. It’s not happening in the airport.  Put your bag where you can get it (not four rows behind you, so that you have to fight traffic and force everyone on your aisle to hate you—this is what the multi-bin people do. Get out and go like O.J. through the terminal.

On the plane they handed out immigration cards to fill out, and another form that had health questions like “Have you had contact with any person infected with Ebola in the last 21 days?”.  “Have you had contact with any farm animals on your journey?”.  I vaguely recall petting a goat at a Westmoor park last weekend…  “Have you experienced any of the following: nausea, bleeding, fatigue, …”  One student had already thrown up.  One had had a nosebleed.  If we’re filling these out, who is looking at them, and how long will that take?  What if anyone answers “yes” to any of the questions? I had 10 hours of transatlantic flight to ponder these questions.  One thing was clear: “I whispered to each person in our party in a hushed conspiratorial tone, “Say no to everything!”

As it happened, when we got off the plane, there was just a desk collecting the Ebola forms, and a helpful employee from Rwandair waiting for us with our boarding passes. He hustled us through a bag check—shoes off again—and got us on a bus to the plane.  45 minutes, no problem.  The plan worked.

But the, once snugly (and a little smugly) on board, a flight attendant very politely explained “your luggage will not be arriving in Uganda”.

“eh?”

“there was no time to get your luggage on the airplane. It will be arriving at 10 pm tomorrow”.

“Oh. Uh Oh”. I clarified: “Tomorrow we will be in Mbrara (7 hours away from the airport).  Will our luggage be delivered there?”

She gave me one of those rapidly fading smiles that says, “You’re so absurdly funny, oh no wait, you’re serious.”  Like a black cloud passing in front of the sun.    Like she had just seen a circus clown, in full makeup, slip on a banana peel, and then just lay there for a long time in a fetal position, moaning.

After speaking to a few very helpful people, like the folks who drove a student back to the airplane on the bus to retrieve her wallet, and Ernest, who photographed all our baggage claim tickets in Kigali and communicated with Accra and Entebbe to let them know, and Vivian, who very patiently hand-wrote 11 lost luggage claims—who expressed a sort of concerned, incredulous, disappointed surprise when I said that some of the bags had luggage tags that had the names of parents or spouses on them, I have learned two things:

1. Even though JFK placed elaborate barcoded luggage tags on each of our 22 bags, and gave us matching claims tickets—items intended to be read by a laser scanner—those tags are very unhelpful at an airport where no one has a laser scanner.  I am reasonably sure that the transfer of bags in Africa is largely based on someone matching your name from a handwritten manifest to your luggage tags.

2. When your luggage tags have your wife’s name on them, you may never see your luggage again.

So now the question is, when you have booked a lodging—a guesthouse—for one night, can you stay for two?  If you have reservations at a lodge in a National park, can that be moved back a day? If people are expecting you on Sunday, but you don’t turn up till Monday, do they charge you for the day you missed?   I am guessing that flexibility is no problem, but then again, you never know.