Arrived safe in Malawi!

And boy does it feel great to be back home in the WC house. Thanks to me losing my passport, I hadn’t really expected to get into Lilongwe until Thursday at the earliest. But luckily, despite quite a few hiccups, everything worked out.

So after my trip to the Embassy, I hung out at the program house for awhile. I really wanted to see my host mom, Tiny, in the hospital (she was planned to have a cesarean and have a baby girl!) but it didn’t look like it’d work out with the timing. I had a cab coming at 3:30 and it was already 1:30. I took a cab home and found my host dad and sister there. They’d met Atlha, the newest member of their family and were now letting mom and baby rest. They could go back and visit at 3. I didn’t think there’d be enough time to go to the hospital and back, but John convinced me there was. As we were waiting to leave, two of his constituents showed up at our house. He said they weren’t friends and that they’d just showed up to ask him for things. He was clearly annoyed and said that this is just what people did; they showed up to their representatives and asked for things. But isn’t that the point? Shouldn’t he be fighting for what his constituents want in parliament? It was weird to watch him dismiss these two men so easily when he was elected by them to serve them. I was impressed with the easy access these men had to their representative and upset with how easily John dismissed it.

So a few minutes after 3pm, we left the house for the hospital. We found Tiny and Atlha sleeping, although Tiny woke up when we walked in. Atlha had been born at 10am, so she was just five hours old. She was beautiful. Her little hands were all curled up and she was wearing one of those cute little hats the hospital gives to every new baby. I really wanted to hold her but also knew to never wake a sleeping baby.

At 3:20 we left for the house again. When we pulled up, Lala, my very trusted taxi driver was already waiting. He joked about me never being on time, because this was the second time he’d had to wait for me, although we pulled into the driveway at 3:29. I grabbed my bags, said goodbye to Ame, and hopped in the taxi. We drove the thirty minutes to the airport and I tried to check in. Tried being the key word in that sentence.

The lady at the desk told me I had to go to the special desk to get authorization to check in. So I did, and the man who helped me was a friend of Phono’s who I’d talked to on the phone when I was trying to move my tickets up. He printed out an authorization card and sent me back to the same lady. But when she tried to check me in again, she realized my ticket was booked for Dec. 27. So I went back to Phono’s friend and asked what he could do for me. He said although my ticket was for the 20th, my booking was for the 27th. WTF? He could change it for $200. I knew it was worth it but also asked if he could get that down at all. And he did! He got it to p200, which is approximate $64. So we changed my ticket to the right day and I checked in.

Then I went to security (after chugging my nalgene) where they didn’t notice the pocket knife I’d forgotten to take out of my backpack. They also didn’t care about the toothpaste or hand sanitizer I had with me. I got to the immigration desk and handed over my brand new passport. The immigration office was not happy I didn’t have an entry stamp. So I explained I’d lost my passport and therefore the stamp. She got on the phone with her supervisor for quite awhile and asked me a lot of questions. In addition to not having a stamp, I’d lost my visa extension paper that I’d paid for in Maun. So my original visa had expired as well. She asked why I’d stayed in Tlokweng, which is the address I’d given when I arrived. I was really confused until I realized the office had relocated to Gabs and I’d given the old address. So in addition to not having any of the correct paperwork, it seemed like I’d lied on my immigration form four months before.

She asked for a letter confirming I was a student but since I didn’t have one, really didn’t believe me. I told her that on my way into the country, I’d shown my program manual and that had been enough. She asked her supervisor to come over and told me to stand to the side and wait. So I waited a little less than ten minutes, until a woman on the biggest power trip ever walked over. She was strutting slowly and swinging her keychain back and forth. She came up to me, didn’t say hello, and asked for my passport. Since I didn’t have it, we walked over to the immigration both together and had a long conversation with the immigration officer. Again, I was asked for my visa extension papers and a letter proving I was a student. Since I didn’t have either, the supervisor and I went back out through security and called my bag off the plane. At first I thought she wouldn’t let me leave, but she just wanted to see my student manual. So I showed it to her, and she decided it was enough. We went back through security and I was given an exit stamp and allowed to run to my plane after they both told me independently that I should be much more careful the next time I came to Botswana and that they were doing me a huge favor. Aysh!

So I ran for my plane. It was pretty much empty so I had the row to myself. I spent the night in the Joburg airport, and since I’d planned on it this time, I brought lots of extra socks and jackets to stay warm with. I napped for a few hours and caught my 10am plane the next morning. Jaren picked me up at the airport and we started working right away. We rearranged the furniture in the annex, living room and office and got some office work done. Today, we ran a few errands in town, explored the new mall and took a Christmas card picture with John, Ngoni and Mr. Vitto!!! Check out World Camp’s blog (worldcampforkids@blogspot.com) or their facebook page to see it… And trust me, you don’t want to miss it!

Passport Mathata

Aysh! Ke mathata. Somehow I managed to lose my passport in Botswana. Oops! I realized it Friday afternoon, the day before my flight out of Bots and after the US Embassy had closed for the weekend. I called their afterhours number and was told no one could help me until Monday. So I went online, researched all the forms I'd need and started to gather them all up, and believe me, it wasn't easy. I printed two forms from online and filled them out. I went to the police station and filed a claim. I made copies of my CA Driver's License with an incredibly temperamental copier. I had my mom scan and email me a copy of my birth certificate and passport (THANKS!). I collected copies of my health insurance and travel insurance. I even grabbed my immunization records. And of course, I made sure I had enough money to cover any charges they could throw at me. I moved my flights to Wednesday. I told my Gabs host family I'd be staying a few extra days and that I was sorry to take their extra room but that I was super excited to meet Atlha, their baby girl who was due Monday. They told me it wasn't a problem; that they were happy to have me stay!

Monday rolled around and I showed up to the embassy at 8am, even though it had opened at 7:30. Turns out they don't deal with citizens until 9:30. So Phono (my program director) and I went for a cup of coffee and returned to the huge embassy right at half nine. I was let in but Phono had to stay outside the gate. They made me leave my backpack, computer and cell phone in the security office. I went through the metal detector and was ushered through a door that had to be opened from the other side of bullet proof glass. The security guard who walked me through the beautiful gardens to the building walked behind me. I tried to talk to him but he kept saying "let's go" and pointing toward the door. I felt like I was being tried in court, being led to the podium.

He let me inside and told me to sit down. About fifteen minutes later, I saw the sign saying "please right bell for help." So I did and was helped immediately. I only had to hand over my Driver's License and the two forms I'd printed online. Then I had to pay the fee: $135. Ouch, no small chunk of change. I was told to wait twenty minutes for my passport. About forty minutes later, a man walked out and we went over my travel plans. Since I'd be returning to the States fairly soon, we decided a passport good for three months would work fine, and that I'd have to get a real passport as soon as possible. Fifteen minutes later, I was walking out with a brand new passport. All in all, the process took just over an hour inside the building. I was ushered back out to the gate by a female security guard this time, who was willing to chat but still walked behind me. I still felt like a criminal.

Phono and I drove back to the program house, where my mom and travel agent (THANK YOU BOTH!) woke up in the middle of the night to rebook my flights for tonight! So now the plan is to fly to Johannesburg on the 5:35pm flight out of Gaborone today (Monday), spend the night in the Joburg airport, and then connect to Lilongwe tomorrow (Tuesday) at 10am!

Because my life is never boring, I'm going to try to squeeze in a visit to the private hospital to visit my host mom, who is giving birth to their second child, Atlha. Atlha means to hug, ka Setswana. I'll only have about an hour at the hospital (assuming my family comes soon to pick me up!) before I have to head home to gather up my already packed bags (always be prepared!) to head to the airport!

I'm just so excited everything worked out as well as it did. I'll be in Malawi from tomorrow until Jan. 31, when I fly back to Maine to start spring semester! Although a break/chance to see my family in Cali would be great, I couldn't be happier that I'm heading back to Malawi so soon.