I definitely did not use a lorry to transit from Brussels to Copenhagen. No, I used the moving footpaths. Wait, did I say I used the moving footpaths to Copenhagen? So why the lorry? you ask. Lorries were also means of my transportation in my growing up. Actually anything that moved faster than we could, transported us. Comfort was secondary or maybe tertiary . What really mattered was getting to our destination.
There were these lorries that used to come from Chuka to my area to fetch some sand for construction. They came in handy especially for my father who visited us over the weekends and had to go back to the city on Sundays. The lucky ones managed to secure a seat next to the driver which then was comfortable. If you were unlucky then you would keep the sand company at the back. Well these lorries had no speed limit, they did not need any anyway. The state of the road would limit their speed. Furthermore, they served as a bouncing castle to the unlucky passengers who joined the sand. Once these precious lorries stopped, inertia would get in action.
Inertia is the resistance of any physical object to any change in its state of motion (this includes changes to its speed, direction or state of rest). Our bodies would strongly resist the end of the journey. They would move right, left and centre before they assume their sober position. Well, why am I explaining this?
I experienced inertia when landing. My body literally refused to land. My bowels were overloaded, my feet heavier than the rest of the body and an announcement of some sophisticated kind of landing due to the foggy weather, I still felt like was left in the air while the plane landed. To make the matters worse, i could not find my God sent tour guide, Amanda. I gathered my strength and bent down to touch my feet and felt them. I was not left in airspace. At this time everyone was stretching to pick their hand luggage.
Luckily I could not open the compartment where they stored those fancy bags to store my plastic bag leso wrap, I was so nervous. I therefore placed my hand luggage between my feet. Flying oh flying, why were you so complicated and cruel to me? stiff seat, luggage between my feet, full badder, inertia to mention but a few.
We walked out of the plane through those corridors again. How do they attach those planes anyway? after seven hours above the clouds we were in another airport. ”Will i go through those check points again?” I just followed everybody. My leso wrap went loose and my clothes decided to give me a more flying experience? I took my time to collect them, silently wishing Amanda would appear but she did not.
My documents were verified and was allowed to the Scandinavian. ”I made it.” I just entered to the richest region in the world. Everyone was speaking in tongues, my friend. English had vanished through the thick clouds. Amanda! She waited for me to say her goodbye. Before she did she showed me to the bathrooms where i found all these vanilla looking ladies not as curvaceous as Africans though,but they had their own kind of beauty, so flawless brushing their teeth and freshening up. My toothbrush was a sharp object, so how did they get theirs into the magical aeroplane?
I emptied my bladder, pretended to freshen up by gagging some water and putting my cheap powder on my face but i did not look like those experienced vanilla ladies. It hit me i was far away, away from home. No one cared what i did anymore, well, apart from Amanda who was waiting to show me where Starbucks was as we were to meet with my husband there but I could not go to the Starbucks. There was no other way to that cafe apart from through the moving stairs. I let it pass.
I thanked Amanda and went back to waiting area whereI got out a John Grisham book which am sure I was holding upside down since I did not read a single word from it. The vanilla skinned men and women, who seemed so beautiful and unfathomable from the movies, they were now before my eyes. The men, oh the vanilla men that have driven my black sisters crazy, well I will not say anything about them but they were all there.
After an hour of waiting, i started getting anxious. I could feel sweat drop from my armpit, it reminded me of my mathematics lessons when i had incomplete assignment as i was unable to land my desk mate’s book to dub, the feeling is nostalgic. My husband finally arrived and luckily, he found me at the waiting bay. We decided to proceed to Copenhagen right away instead of wandering around in Brussels.
I felt so out of place in my fashionable colored blue attire, brown kiondo and my black and white leso wrap. I kept on wondering why people dressed in black and heavy jackets? Was it really that cold? It was the season. I got my wrap in my partner’s bag pack and proceeded to check in when i realized that my transit ticket was a miss. I had been booked for a different flight but they spoke gibberish and it was fixed.
The moving footpath. I could not believe i was to walk in those things. I took my time and pretended to operate my dead phone. We had to hurry for the flight so there was no time to time. Dang! i stepped and almost fell,FELL! I saw my African goodies from trip on that conveyor belt, literally. We made it to check in for Copenhagen. There was not much drama this time as shoes were not involved, only the jackets and my kiondo. We boarded this time like a pro. After two hours we were in Copenhagen. This is where i suffered hypothermia my dear friends.
Join me in the next episode of my experience in a first world country.