As I entered my last month of employment, there remained two
travel obligations. The first would be to go to Zanzibar and the second, later in the month, to
Somalia to bid farewell to my team. One rather inconvenient task that needed to
be done in the midst of the travels was the renewal of my Kenyan visa. Given
that the process involves my passport being in the hands of the government for
a couple weeks, I needed to build my travels around it.
Aware of the importance of the visa, I was ready to forgo my
Zanzibar travels if necessary. The renewal of my visa is synonymous with the
renewal of my family’s visas, and we can’t have a presence in the country
without legal status. As it worked out, the plan would be that I would go ahead
and travel to Zanzibar, return to Nairobi, submit the visa application and two
weeks later make a shortened trip to Somalia just before my final workday. We’re
only partway through but fingers crossed that everything happens as planned.
* * *
The Strike
My last time in Zanzibar was about seven years ago, also for
regional meetings. It’s less than an hour and a half by plane from Nairobi so
it’s an easy flight. The challenge in this part of the world is not so much the
flight itself but whether or not the flight even happens.
I was scheduled to fly out at 8am on Monday (Aug. 31). Given
that there were rumors of a strike by airport (JKIA) employees, my taxi was set
up for 5am. Upon arrival at JKIA in the dark of early morning, I quickly
realized that the strike was indeed happening, at least in part, and the place
was packed with people. Some bleary-eyed travelers were still around after
flight cancellations from the night before trying to sort out their fate.
It was an ugly scene, and I was getting nervous that my
flight might not happen. I say nervous but, in all honesty, I wasn’t overly
enthusiastic about the trip. I often question the fruitfulness of these types
of meetings and there would be a lot of emphasis on the way forward, something
I’m not going to be a part of. Regardless, good soldier that I am, I pressed on.
The queues were long everywhere. I wasn’t worried about the
long wait so much as whether the navigation of this gauntlet was going to be
futile. We just couldn’t get any definitive information about our flights. I
suspect it was because there were ongoing efforts to resolve the labor dispute and
the airlines were optimistically processing passengers in that hope.
I eventually arrived at my gate where a few dozen people
were already settling in for what could be a long wait. And a long wait it was.
By noon things were looking dismal, and the airline still hadn’t said one way
or another as to whether we might eventually fly. In fact, staff in these situations tend to make
themselves scarce since they don’t know any more than we do
and they, understandably, get tired of fending off the never-ending questions.
We could see the plane was sitting on the tarmac, but there weren’t any signs
of activity around it.
As time passed, the airport continued to fill with thousands of people,
sitting, lying, standing, drinking, eating, etc. It reminded me of many years
ago when Priya and I were stuck overnight in Amsterdam during a winter snowstorm.
Priya was a few months pregnant, and we ended up trying to find a quiet and
not-so-chilly place on the floor to lie down for the night. Weary bodies were
everywhere as people had to wait through the night as the weather and runways
cleared for possible flights the next morning. On this occasion, the airline
finally threw in the towel by about 3pm. The group of fellow staff (about 20
altogether) and I gathered to ponder our options. We’d already lost one day of
a five-day schedule and rumors of strike negotiations weren’t positive. The
first idea that came from the regional team (already gathered in Zanzibar) was
that we could recover our checked-in bags (who knows how long that would take given that the airport employees were on strike), rent a bus and travel across the border into Tanzania to Arusha (6 hours not counting airport time) and fly
to Zanzibar from there (another hour).
I immediately dismissed this idea as ludicrous and
suggested that I would wait in Nairobi and take my chances on a flight the next
day. The others, possibly naively, seemed interested in trying it, albeit not enthusiastically. I didn't see any way all this could happen where they would arrive in Zanzibar before Wednesday. I figured that if I skipped on the bus idea, caught a
flight the next day, strike resolution pending, I could probably get there by the next evening (Tuesday). Regardless of how this would play out, I had no interest in
staying at the airport any longer. I bid my farewells and made my way home, uncertain as to how this was going to play out.
The others, sadly, weren’t out of the woods. My fears about the bag retrieval were realized. Almost all of
them had checked bags (not me) and some ended up waiting until almost 10pm
before the last bag appeared and they were able to go home (or to their hotel). Very
long day for me. Very, very long day for them.
Late in the evening, the regional team finally decided to pull the plug
on the bus idea. I realize that they had invested a lot of money in these
meetings and they desperately wanted everyone to fill these hotel rooms sitting empty in Zanzibar. Admittedly,
the travelers from Nairobi made up about a third of the attendees overall and this was a significant blow to the organizers. But the bus idea was a desperate grasp at straws (a
hail Mary) that should probably never have been on the table.
That night I slept in my own bed and joined the meetings
electronically the next morning increasingly doubtful that the trip would happen. The regional support team worked diligently
all morning trying to sort it out with our travel agent. By mid-morning we received word
that the strike was over and, gradually, planes would begin departing Nairobi.
By early afternoon we received word that some of us could catch an evening
flight. Others would catch a 3am flight (ugh). Though I offered to remain
behind if it meant someone else (with a longer future with the organization
than I) could get a seat, we all were able to get seats on the two planes –
mine would be the evening flight.
* * *
Arriving at the gate at JKIA, and after you've checked in and proceeded through immigration and security, there is always another
check-in with the airline staff before entering the gate area. It seems
redundant since there was already a check-in and issuance of a boarding pass,
but, at least in this case, it worked to my advantage. After cracking a few
jokes with the airline staff, the guy that was looking at my documents ripped
up my boarding pass and issued me a new one – in business class. I didn't even ask. I don't know if it had something about my mileage program status and an overbooking or if he was trying to do me a favor. I’m not
normally very chatty with service industry people but this may be an indicator
that I should probably do so more often.
It was feeling like I was finally going to make it to Zanzibar.
