Cheers to 5 minutes

*Pictures to be added later 

It turned out the gate was quite far away and I was cutting it close. So I speed walked to the gate only to be informed that the flight was 45 minutes delayed. When we boarded the chaos of Africa was on full display and the poor Captain said hello and it will just be 5 minutes more. He would repeat this every 45 min until we left hours later. Upon boarding there was a little girl (about 6) in the row across from me that was vomiting and vomiting. She was also drooling everywhere. Her dad did not speak Swahili and the flight attendant for some reason asked me specifically if I spoke English (I could help with that) and French (which I could also kind of do). The ask was to find out if she was OK to travel (for the record from the look in his eye there was no way he was disembarking). When dad started speaking French back to me it immediately involved almost everyone in the back of the plane. People were feeling her head and all commenting on their various thoughts. In the end the flight attendant just walked away. 

First we were waiting for the Air France plane from CDG to arrive (The pilot this time appealed to our sensibility, wouldn’t we want to be waited for in this circumstance? Of course. No questions. It would only be 5 minutes.) The plane was sudden full and then suddenly all of the gate people were on the plane. The number of boarding passes scanned did not match the number of travelers (“It should be sorted out in about 5 min”). Third the baggage crew was on the plane asking to see the baggage checks (“The bags don’t match the passengers. Just another 5 min”. Finally there was yelling from directly below us and out of the cargo hold pops all of the gate people and all of the baggage people with 2 large bags. 

It was over two hours late, after midnight and we were on our way. It was 1h55 to our first stop, Moroni, Comores. Fortunately the Etihad gentleman had told me about this. He had been very specific about not disembarking (“You will sit.” Yes sir.). Fabian my seat mate who was from the Seychelles and headed to Madagascar for a wedding followed by holiday had also figured this out.  Neither of us had ever heard of this place. I had looked it up out of curiosity. 

We were served dinner on the way beef, chicken or vegetables. It seemed important that our row choose the beef, so that is what we got. It came with a good amount of spinach which is what I ate. Prior to starting our dinner, Fabian, offered his drink in toast “Cheers to 5 min.”

During our stop, I introduced myself to the guy directly in front of me who was clearly American. He seemed shocked that I knew that. “Yo. How’d you know?” (Real quote). He was from Cleveland and had come to Africa to go to Egypt and then South Africa and was making a 4 day stop in Antananavario, which is Madagascar’s capital city.  By this time 80% of the people on the flight had gotten off including all kinds of the Air France people (who in my brain where headed to Tana and only Tana.). Fabian agreed with me that most of those people had made a mistake which in all fairness would be easy to do at 300 am. We figured they would find out when they didn’t have to go through customs and they would probably get back on the plane. Fabian entertained me as we sat by letting me survey Seychellian music (it was really good. He said it is their Creole style). Much to the likely dismay of the people who in my mind left the plane erroneously, the stop only took about 25 minutes and we were up in the air again. 

One hour and twenty minutes later we were landing at 445 am for sunrise in Madagascar and I was filling out Fabian’s custom’s declaration and health card (he said he couldn’t see the tiny form). Customs was simple and empty. Fabian had prepared me for corruption and extortion saying we would only be let through if we paid a tip. First we were handed a pamphlet by the WHO on the plague, then we paid the visa fee (the guy immediately gave me $2 change for my $30). Then we were fingerprinted and waited for the incredibly intricate multi-stamping of our passports (I counted 7 different stamps).  During this I met Michael, an American who recently got out of the Navy and had just come from India and was in Madagascar for a few days to see lemurs. 

Since my driver wasn’t at the airport, I called the hotel. They said he would be on his way and I offered Michael since we were headed in the same direction. 

I would like to take a moment to be thankful that I have taken so much French and that I am semi-comfortable speaking it (Hey dad, remember when you said French wasn’t a useful language?... ).  I spoke with the driver, Oliver, and asked him various questions on our way. I also used the time to teach Michael some quick general French since he didn’t know any. 

At first view Atananavario (Tana for short and for people like me who struggle to say it and spell it), Madagascar was simply beautiful, the French influence strongly present.  Tana is a city of 2ish million (no one really knows because they have never had a true census per various people I talked with). It has an average altitude of 1400m (which explains why I was so winded walking quickly up a steep hill to the hotel after the atm). Madagascar’s population being 23.5 million with 33 people per square mile. It has been referred to as the 8th continent and houses 5% of all known plant and animal species. The two main languages are Malagasy and French. It is a poor country with greater than 90% of people making less and living on than 2 dollars a day. The minimum wage for those who are lucky enough to be employed is about $40 a month (teachers are said to make about $61). 

We pulled up to my hotel (The Grand Urban) and I couldn’t have asked for more. I checked in and immediately went to my room to shower and change and rest for a little bit before breakfast.