Given how many things could have gone wrong, it is a miracle that in the end nothing did. But my departure was one long suspense-filled affair. It consisted of a concatenation of just-in-times, starting sometime last week. First there was the late travel approval from Washington, then the last minute visa and passport return, the nearly too late departure from home for the airport, the long lines I was able to circumvent because I am a (very) frequent traveler. Soon this became a pattern of rush-rush-wait like a two-step dance. Once in the New-York bound plane we were put on hold in a far off corner of the airfield waiting for the thunderstorms to pass. Then there was a problem at Gate 1 at the Delta terminal at JFK which kept us sitting within view but out of reach of the jetway for another 45 minutes. And then it was back to rush-rush again, having only 15 minutes left to make my connection to Accra. Then another wait of one-and-half hour before take-off. As if the universe conspired to test and then reward me I was given an unexpected upgrade to the fourth row in business class fort the 11-hour plane ride to Accra.
There is a saying that ‘In the end, everything works out. If it hasn’t worked out yet, that’s because you haven’t gotten to the end. It comes from Brazil; must have been someone who had an experience like me today.
Fitting with the general theme of just-in-time I drove Axel to an appointment in Gloucester that was inserted in the half hour before the scheduled noontime departure from Manchester to leave for the airport. I kept myself busy for the half hour he was occupied, fueling myself with iced coffee and the car with gasoline. I ordered a flower arrangement for Magid’s daughter who returned from the hospital yesterday without her bothersome appendix. The saleslady shook her head when she heard I was on my way to the airport. “You rush to wait,” she added with a tone that indicated she had given up on flying some time ago. Rush-rush-wait, rush-rush-wait indeed.
After all this I arrived in Accra close to the expected arrival time (9 AM) and so did my suitcase, miraculously. I found, as planned,, a driver waiting for me; the same Charles who had chauffeured Cabul and me around 6 months ago. We immediately set out for Cape Coast, several traffic jams and a few hours away. I arrived just in time to hear the last 3 of the 7 team presentations, which was about the right number before lunch.
Today is Tessa’ 23rd birthday. I have been celebrating it all along from a distance, capped tonight with a cold beer, the best drink in this very hot and humid climate. I am glad I made it here but I was sorry to have missed the celebration. My spirit was in Lobster Cove, from the early morning birthday girl chair decoration all the way to the perfectly grilled chicken for dinner. These are rituals that go with the day. Happy birthday Tess!
Sylvia's Journal 
Recent Comments