After a 6 hour flight from Niamey to Paris, a 3 hour layover in Paris, a 9 hour flight from Paris to Johannesburg, a 13 hour layover in Jo-burg, and a 1 1/2 hour flight from Jo-burg to Maputo, Mozambique, I had finally arrived. I waited in a very long line at Customs, feeling excited and, well, a little nervous. It had been 10 months since Vic and I had last seen each other: I didn’t really know what to expect, but I was ready to be out of that line.
When I got to the Customs agent I found out that I couldn’t pay for my visa with a card, and I didn’t have any cash on me (except some CFA, the currency for French-west Africa, which was useless). The agent kept my passport, and told me to go outside where I would find an ATM, then come back and pay for the Visa.
I was totally flustered. I wanted to get this figured out as quickly as possible and be done with it, and was also acutely aware of the fact that I was about to see Vic for the first time since July. However I had envisioned our initial reunion, this wasn’t it.
I walked out through security, feeling completely overwhelmed. I turned the corner and saw him, standing there, looking about as nervous as I felt, and holding a dozen roses. I’m sure he could tell I was stressed, and I think I told him what was going on in breath. He took out his wallet, handed me some cash, and said, “That should be enough”. I was trying to wrap my mind around the fact that I was there, seeing and talking to him after so long, that he had brought me roses, and still feeling stressed about this whole visa-thing. So I went back inside to take care of it (which took much too long), and finally went back outside to greet him again, properly this time.
Within a few minutes we were walking away from the airport towards the main street, where we could get a shared taxi towards our hotel. Before we ever reached the taxi I had realized how strangely natural it felt to be together again. I’m sure we’d both changed in the 10 months that had passed, and in ways that could not sufficiently be expressed through weekly phone calls or text messages. I expected us to have a lot to catch up on, and we did, but basically it felt like picking up where we left off. It seemed like however we had each grown, it had been in the same general direction.
When I got to the Customs agent I found out that I couldn’t pay for my visa with a card, and I didn’t have any cash on me (except some CFA, the currency for French-west Africa, which was useless). The agent kept my passport, and told me to go outside where I would find an ATM, then come back and pay for the Visa.
I was totally flustered. I wanted to get this figured out as quickly as possible and be done with it, and was also acutely aware of the fact that I was about to see Vic for the first time since July. However I had envisioned our initial reunion, this wasn’t it.
I walked out through security, feeling completely overwhelmed. I turned the corner and saw him, standing there, looking about as nervous as I felt, and holding a dozen roses. I’m sure he could tell I was stressed, and I think I told him what was going on in breath. He took out his wallet, handed me some cash, and said, “That should be enough”. I was trying to wrap my mind around the fact that I was there, seeing and talking to him after so long, that he had brought me roses, and still feeling stressed about this whole visa-thing. So I went back inside to take care of it (which took much too long), and finally went back outside to greet him again, properly this time.
Within a few minutes we were walking away from the airport towards the main street, where we could get a shared taxi towards our hotel. Before we ever reached the taxi I had realized how strangely natural it felt to be together again. I’m sure we’d both changed in the 10 months that had passed, and in ways that could not sufficiently be expressed through weekly phone calls or text messages. I expected us to have a lot to catch up on, and we did, but basically it felt like picking up where we left off. It seemed like however we had each grown, it had been in the same general direction.
1 comment:
Needless to say, in addition to our phone calls today, this was the highlight of my day. Pure, authentic and , for anyone not your mother, hallariously funny (the monkey story comes to mind).
Love you dearly and of course am looking forward to your time at home. Talk to you soon. Love Mom
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