It's Africa, part 1

          

           

        

The wheels touched down on the tarmac and the whole plane erupted into applause, punctuated by hoots and cheers from around the cabin. Ashley and I turned to each other with a look of "what the hell?" and shrugged. I'd flown into Kigali just five weeks earlier or otherwise I would have wondered if it a Rwandan thing. Maybe it's a Belgian thing?

The people departing the plane for Kigali stood up. Ashley and I stayed seated for the time being; many of the planes en route to Entebbe make a short stop in Rwanda to let passengers off/board passengers making their way to Uganda. It's usually a short stop, about an hour. No biggie. I put my headphones back on and continued to watch an episode of "The New Girl."

My show ended and I was beginning to feel restless. Ashley and I made our way toward the galley to see if we can find something to drink; the plane had been turned off and it was getting hot.

We shuffled around the galley -- it was filled with a dozen other passengers who were clearly sharing our sentiment -- and we began hearing rumblings from other passengers, "They're trying to fix it, but they aren't sure they can." "The engine went out two hours before we landed!"

Wait... What? That applause was beginning to make so much more sense.

Hours passed and the flight attendants were clearly getting frustrated by our incessant questions and the passengers were beyond frustrated by the lack of answers. One hour passed. Two hours. Three hours. We continued to sit in the hot airplane, beginning to feel as if we're being held hostage by Brussels Air.

Finally a flight attendant came on the overhead speaker, "Ladies and gentleman, we unfortunately have had a mechanical malfunction and a new plane will need to be flown in from Belgium tomorrow."  and the speakers went silent. Four hours straight on a hot plane with no food and no water.  

The speakers clicked on again, "Ladies and gentlemen, unfortunately we will need you to debark the plane; however, a visa is required for entry into Rwanda. We are attempting to secure them so we may accommodate you in a nearby hotel." At that point, I was begging Jesus for mercy. We'd been traveling for two days and we just wanted to sleep.

Another hour passed and praise God, we were allowed to leave the plane and were directed toward immigration inside the airport. We walked in the doors and it was pandemonium; a hundred exhausted passengers all crowded around a desk where two immigration workers were slowly muddling their way through each passenger's paperwork. There was no rhyme or reason. No line. Nary a Brussels Air employee to be found.

Hours passed. Ashley and I, absolutely exhausted to the core, were two of the four last passengers at the desk. Finally, we are allowed to enter the country. We grabbed our backpacks and headed out the front doors. It was 2 AM; our plane had landed seven hours prior.

We reached the curb and were greeted by a delightful Rwandan woman. She was an airport employee and was the most informative person we'd come across since we landed at 7 PM. She grouped us with a couple of other passengers, told us a taxi would be arriving momentarily and there would be complimentary dinner waiting for us when we arrive at our hotel, which is one of the nicest in town.
As the taxi pulled up, she told us the plane from Belgium wouldn't arrive until at least 5 PM the next day, so to please enjoy the city, go the genocide memorial and don't miss the opportunity to see the traditional Rwandan dancers.

We arrived at the hotel just a few minutes later. I was surprised by how nice Rwanda is; the streets are better maintained than my own street in Omaha. The lobby of the hotel is spotless. I felt relieved. Finally, that crazy ordeal was over! I looked around for the complimentary dinner the airport employee mentioned, expecting something to be set up nearby. Maybe there's a restaurant in the hotel?

While we wondered where the food may be, we saw the hotel had WiFi. Glory! Hallelujah! We were supposed to be at Entebbe hours ago and no one had a clue where we were. Ashley pulled out her phone and tried to connect to the internet. I got my iPad. Nothing. People all around us were sending emails, making calls, but we could not get a thing to work.

Finally we got checked in. We got our room keys and directions to the restaurant on the top floor of the hotel. We quickly dropped our bags in our room then made our way upstairs in the elevator.

The elevator doors opened and the floor was pitch black. I wondered "are we in the right place?" but we could hear bass thumping, so we guessed it must be the place. We exited the elevator and rounded the corner to see our fellow passengers crowded around a bar.

To be continued...