Baseline perspective

Today's New York Times has an article on air travel in Africa, and in Cameroon in particular. I can totally relate to the author's frustrations, but the guy's story really isn't that bad. His flights to and from Cameroon left on the scheduled day, he had the means to buy a ticket, he got a partial refund from Kenya Airways, and most importantly, he arrived at his destination.

I have some pretty bad air travel stories from the country that is near and dear to my heart. I flew more my second year because I was posted up north and air travel was more reliable than the train, which is pretty sad.* On one trip from Garoua to Yaounde we made an unscheduled stop in N'Djamena, which not only is in a different country but is NOT on the way from point A to point B. On a trip to West Africa for Christmas vacation, I got bumped from an Air Afrique (now bankrupt) flight because my elbows weren't sharp enough to push my way to the front of the line. The following day, when the next flight left, my elbows were sharper. And my final domestic flight when I was leaving my post never happened because the planes stopped coming to Garoua for some reason. Instead, I took the overnight train with all my crap in tow. I had stopped taking the train because on my last trip we got in a minor train wreck, but when faced with not being able to leave the country or take my chances, I opted for the latter.

Other volunteers have worse stories, like plummeting several thousand feet while in-flight or seeing bloody cow carcasses come down the baggage carousel. But this isn't a contest.

I think the point of this post is that it is all about perspective. Cramped in coach with no peanuts isn't really that bad. When things don't happen when they are supposed to, I just try to remember the time when I waited a day - a day! - for a bush taxi to leave my first post in Mamfe, only for the bush taxi to arrive at 4 PM and then tell everyone waiting that it would leave the following morning. Or if I'm ever uncomfortable, I just think about when I was smashed in the back seat of a two-door Toyota Tercel holding 7 other adults for the 5 hour journey over an old logging road, the only passable road from Kumba to Mamfe in the rainy season.

And if I ever think that I had it bad, I just think about the volunteer who was posted in the East province near the C.A.R. border. A one-way trip to the capital took three days. See? Perspective.


*If you think I omitted an option by road, I did not.