I was settled into my seat on South African Airways looking eagerly over the African landscape from my window seat. I had forgotten that I had indicated a special meal on my star alliance profile so was surprised when they approached my general area and asked if anyone had a special meal. I ignored it at first, but when they persisted I looked up
and said it could be mine. They handed it to me with my name and seat number clearly marked on the meal packaging.  My NGO partner, Alex, looked on a bit surprised since he had seen me eat everything before and I hadn’t given him any indication I was Hindu.

I started my meal and after looking at the other options, I was glad to have my flavorful rice and spicy lentils. I ordered several rounds of orange juice, thinking it might be the last time I would get it for a while.

It has been dark flying into Johannesburg, so I  studied my first sight of sub Saharan Africa. The landscape looked like the same dry Savannah  stretching for hours  interrupted only occasionally by a lazy river.  The clear blue sky was only tarnished by drifting smoke that hung suspended over large burning fires scattered throughout the brown land.

The pilot announced our descent into Dar Es Salaam and I strained to see something out of the window. Nothing but brown.  Finally, the aqua blue of the Indian ocean came into view and I started snapping some photos from my phone. After the second time the flight attendant told me to put my phone away I became smarter and looked to make sure they were otherwise occupied before snapping more photos out of the window.

Dar Es Salaam looked much more developed than I expected. There were several large office buildings and a defined center. My father had called it the city at the end of the world, so perhaps I was expecting some African outpost, but it looked fairly modern from the air.

We continued our descent and landed after having made a large circle over the Indian Ocean.  Snapping my two carry on bags up, I followed Alex out of the plane and into the bus. We were joined by my new coworker, Helen, and we arrived into the terminal at Dar Es Salaam—and into the reality of Africa.

The terminal was basic, hot and crowded. Everyone rushed toward and towards the immigration area.  We walked into the human chaos caused by people picking up and filling out the entry cards on whatever surface they could find.

We pushed our way forward and filled out our forms. Both Alex and I had visas already, but Helen needed to get her tourist visa turned into a business visa. We waited while she handed in her passport, her forms, and paid her money.  They disappeared into a long narrow office that ringed the hallway.

There was a mass of people waiting to get their visas back. Every once in a while, an official would appear with a stack of passports in his hand (interestingly, most were red with a few blue and rarely a green. I hadn’t thought that passports usually don’t come in other colors)

Everyone would lean in hopefully, and the official would call the name of a person. That person would come up, the official would look at that person and then hand the passport over.  It was a process that repeated itself over and over for entire flights. And as the South African flight cleared out, and the Qatar flight filtered in, there was no passport for Helen.  There is an anxious feeling when someone has your passport and the longer you wait with it gone, the more that feeling grows that there is something wrong. Helen had that look on her face.

At last, an official looking official came out of the side door calling her name. Success?  He approached Helen and indicated that there was a problem and more money needed to be paid. While it might not have matched what had been told to her by the consulate in Australia, it was paid and the passport disappeared into the office again. The Qatar passengers finished and the Emirates passengers filled the space. After much more waiting, the blue passport appeared in a sea of red and Helen smiled. Success—after two plus hours of waiting.

Alex and I had gathered out bags in the baggage carousel previously.  There were all stacked upon each other with each flights bags’ crowding the others.  After ditching a cart with one manky (I term I have picked up from Helen) wheel,  Alex and I found Helen’s, his and my bags and pulled them out of the pile. We wheeled them towards the exit, banging ankles of others  the entire way.  After going back to find Helen, we all made our way outside and to the driver who had waited for us since 1 pm. It was now 5 pm.  We had arrived in Tanzania and the adventure was to begin.