from bullets to bazookas

leaving the jungle...with one final monkey business

Jumping into the dead of winter without a Fall transition period is a bit rough. It was blistering on the day I left Sierra Leone. My flight was to take off at 22:30 on the 23rd of December from Lungi International Airport. I'd have to be at the heliport by 17:00 to check in; boarding begins at 18:00. It costs Le24000 for a one way flight from Aberdeen to Lungi. The Russian made Mi-8T helicopters used by Paramount Airlines provide for a smooth and quick trip to Lungi (as opposed to the ferry). The entire ride (directly into Lungi Airport) takes about 15 minutes. This leg of the journey was completely hassle free. Once in Lungi, if you're not careful or firm, a porter will come pick up your luggage and take it to the airport check-in area - even if you're standing right in front of your luggage. He will then expect you to give him a tip. I had a few Leones left in my pocket so I allowed it. Surprisingly enough, being that it was the 23rd of December, the airport was not as disorderly and cramped as it was when we took David to the airport. Once my baggage was checked in and on the conveyer belt, it was held up by some of the security officers. They held up all the baggage and required that they speak to the owners of each of the baggage. Not because this was a security measure, but it gave them an opportunity to ask the owners for some money. Two of the security officers held up my baggage, asked me about what I had packed, and proceeded to ask me for a Christmas gift. I refused and held firm for about five minutes before he left my baggage through. At the Immigration gate, I was held up again because the officer felt that my working papers were not legit. He threatened to send me back home but asked if I could come to a "mutual understanding". I asked him what that might be and he rubbed his fingers together. I refused; he walked out of the booth and returned in three minutes and cleared me for exit.

Just three days before my departure, I thought I'd make a slamming exit and take a chance on monkey meat. Unless you go out into the provinces, it is not easy to find monkey meat; but as luck would have it, Bro. Paul managed to find a young lad walking around with a basket full of dried monkeys. If a picture is worth a thousand words, here's one. I will admit, the meat is "sweet" as they describe certain meat to be. Apparently cat meat is sweeter. Monkey meat is soft, and goes well mixed in with the plasas. Thankfully, a week later, I can say that the toilet seat has not been slamming.

During my stay in Waterloo, I occasionally would visit Aunty Bernadette and her children. Aunty Bernadette is a teacher and a staunch Catholic. They're a beautiful family; very hospitable, and friendly. Just two days before my departure, I went to visit them, and spend time with them. I took Bro. Sahr along with me to introduce him to the family. I explained to them that I will be leaving in two days, and the mood changed. They were a bit saddened. I stayed longer than usual. The next day, her youngest daughter, also named Bernadette, and one of her brothers came by to visit me and give me a card signed by the family.

Just on my way out of Waterloo, I stopped into Frank and Michael's house to say goodbye. The entire family gathered around to wish me farewell. Frank, Michael, and Eku cried. I had to make that a short visit. I will definitely miss all of them.

I arrived in London with two pants, two shirts, a sweater, and a light raincoat. All the barrel contents were left behind. I left before the second barrel could arrive. I've had to go out and buy three more pants (trousers as they are called here. Pants are what we call underwear - I've got a lot more to say about good old Britain), three shirts, and a sweater (jumper in the Queens language). That will be my wardrobe for the next three months.

I will stay in touch though I am sure London can't be as eventful.

posted by bthomas24 @ 10:45 AM