Into The Heart of a Journey...

I would hardly have noticed the difference between Washington D.C. and Johannesburg, had South Africa Airways not subjected me to a forced 10 hour layover in a cramped waiting room in Accra, Ghana. Landing in Accra, to pick up passengers headed for Jo’burg, the Captain announced that the SAA Boeing 747 AKA /The Big North’s/ Auxiliary Power Unit was out. Of course, I was obliged to acquaint myself with this aeronautical jargon which was accompanied by a long explanation. I simply regaled in the fact that an airplane defect had been detected and was being repaired.

As the minutes lengthened into hours of waiting in Accra, the anticipation at reaching Johannesburg International Airport was quickly dampened by the uncertainty surrounding the repairs of the plane’s APU. Trapped within an information-free vacuum, we could only conjecture a probable departure time from Accra. For those with loved ones waiting in J’burg, I could only imagine the anxiety which reigned at the arrival lounge at J’burg International.

That wait time was an all-consuming side show, which was not without its own diversions. A band of young men with “Security” affixed to their jerseys escorted the stranded throng of passengers from the stalled plane to the waiting lounge. Then they quickly switched hats and became businessmen. They lent their cell phones to the desperate passengers for $5 a minute. Of course the dollar was the medium of exchange, as not once did I hear mention of the Ghanaian Pesewa.

These passengers used these temporary cell phone services to communicate uncertainty to their relatives on either side of the Atlantic. I could only imagine how the conversations may have proceeded (conversations which were bound to last over a minute. Nothing was more galling than watching these folks being taken advantage of to communicate their expectant uncertainties.

Accra: Hi Hon
DC: Hi, are you in J’burg yet?
Accra: Oh no, there was an APU failure on the plane.
DC: Was it dangerous?
Accra: I have not idea, however the pilot appeared really calm about it.
DC: So when would you get to Johannesburg?
Accra: I have not clue because the SAA authorities have not updated us on the problem. However, I am sorry I have to go. This conversation is costing me a fortune. If you would kindly tell A, B & C that we’re doing okay, though holed up in Accra, I would be most grateful. I will call you once we get to J’burg. Love you, bye.

Of course that conversation lasted a little over a minute and spread uncertainty from Accra to Washington D.C. to J’burg.

After an hour lounging in the Kotoko International Airport waiting room, some people had found creative ways to pass time. They stood in the waiting room and took pictures of the plane standing like a huge carcass on the tarmac. They took pictures of their brethren-in-distress sleeping, listening to music, reading and exchanging their frustrations in conversation to pass time. I overheard people talking about seminars they were meant to attend, I overheard people seeking to contact the U.S. embassy in Accra to complain about the treatment we were getting from South African Airways. Of course it was early Sunday morning and I wondered how many of them would want to be disturbed by stranded passengers on a week-end…

At the second hour mark, people become restive. They questioned why the SAA authorities had not been so courteous as to inform us about the progress of the repairs. They wanted refreshments. However, the curious in the crowd had found a bar which made an instant fortune selling beer in dollars to the stranded passengers. The international traveler is definitely an extravagant spender.

The adjoining bar had opened to cater to the “emergency” situation. Beer provided a requisite escape from the prolonged layover. With a little music, it would have made for a very weary party. However, the air conditioners hummed their inadequate breaths of air in a over-filled lounge. The humidity combined with the acrid stench emanating from the restrooms evidenced that these rooms were really meant for temporary rather than prolonged occupancy.

Then a technician with SAA became the spokesperson for the authorities. He announced that work was being done on the plane and it would be another couple of hours before we could take off. So people started counting down two hours.

Two hours came and went and Mr. Spokesman retuned to say that they were making hotel arrangements for us. Nothing could be farther from the truth, given that Ghanaian authorities would have had to get the approx. 200 passengers visa certified before they could accede to Accra soil. The charade only got more preposterous and offensive.

Then someone got the brilliant idea that some refreshments could assuage a restive crowd. It was not until 4 am that some water was served. Then at 6 am, came the soda and some sandwiches. Finally someone cared.

However, by this stage almost everyone was prepared to go with the flow and with the flow we went. Excitement swept through the crowd when at about 9 am, we were told that departure was imminent. Then it was interesting to see the plane’s crew chauffeured on board the plane after their restful nights in some Accra hotel. Interesting was the only was to describe this adventure in international travel.