It is 8:00 pm, East African time, and I have slept no more than 2 out of the last 40 hours.  Today, intended as my lovely day of napping and lounging on a Zanzibar beach, I have spent 14 hours at Jomo Kenyatta International Airport in Nairobi, Kenya.  I am so tired that I used an African-style toilet (link to picture) unnecessarily.  In the next half hour, Ally’s mother’s driver will be pulling up to the airport to pick me up from 6:50 flight and I haven’t even left yet.  I will sleep instantly on the plane but I don’t see a way that I can get to bed before midnight, and it’s bed-sleep that I am in sorest need of.

The dead butterfly that got this cosmic shift started was the sale of one Kenya Airways ticket from Nairobi to Zanzibar for a 12:45 pm flight.  There is no 12:45 flight on Sundays.  I was informed that I was booked for a 6:00 flight (that turned out to be a 6:50 flight that recently turned out to be an hour-and-a-half delayed flight) and that my e-ticket number was not in the system so come back in two hours to pick up your tickets.  David was supremely helpful over the phone with looking up stuff online (the internet was down) but it didn’t change the fact that the flight didn’t exist.  I spent two hours hobbling through a painful exchange with a French-speaking Algerian man as a means of diversion, which was effective at the time but ultimately wearisome because by the time it was 6:30 pm and I was completely beat and headachy, I couldn’t tell him nicely that I wanted to be alone and had to resort to focusing intently on my novel.  Our biggest breakthrough was my understanding him when he told me that Egyptian culture is ancient because the sculptures there are thousands of years old, which, looking back, does not even make any sense at all really.

I don’t even know why I’m trying to write.  I am so wore out.  I feel like my station wagon the day that it was riding on a donut and the other 3 tires were all showing steel.  The ride to Zanzibar is short but going through customs and retrieving baggage and driving to the hostel will all be the longest process I have ever experienced in my life.  My mouth feels like a Petri dish at the CDC; I haven’t brushed since yesterday afternoon.  OH and I am so hungry (today I have had: a soda, cashews, 8 peanut M&Ms, a delicious raspberry yogurt; slept through free lunch in transit lounge) that I bought a chicken sandwich (the yogurt was not solving all of my problems) that I took one bite of before I realized what I was doing and threw it away.



1 Comment

Filed under Uncategorized

One response to “3 June 2007: EL DIA DE DISASTROS

  1. Leaking metaphors? Dearest sweetie.

    Sleep. Eat.

    Sleep. Eat.

    We wish you well in Africa!

    (I can’t spell it in Swahili (sp?)….but Jasper sang a song in school this year that was his favorite and it is in Swahili (sp?).

    In English, “I welcome my friends into my heart.”
    A fun-ga a-lav-ya, a-shay, a-shay. (phonetically).

    I was so bummed we forgot to remind him to sing it for you.

    So great to see you and thanks again for stopping by to spend time with us. I love your brother. He is the coolest.

    love and kisses to you

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s