9 July 2012 at 10:45.
Two weeks after unofficially being offered the job and one week after officially signing my contract, I was headed to Freetown on the coast of West Africa. The last two years I spent in Monrovia gave me a much needed confidence boost as I boarded the plane. I had loved my experience in Liberia, so hopefully Salone (as Sierra Leonians call it) would be the same. I flew from Beirut to Brussels (staying 4 days out there) and then directly from Brussels to Freetown. Similar to my experience flying to Monrovia, I made friends with an expat on the same flight. We touched down in Lungi International Airport around 7:45pm. The visa/immigration process in the tiny airport was quick and painless. If only baggage retrieval had been the same! Throngs of people cramped in around the conveyer belt forming rows and rows five people deep. I had to push my way into the crowd to even be able to see the bags as they cruised down the conveyer belt. Porters tried to grab my carry-on bags and hassled me in hopes that I would let me assist with my baggage in exchange for a few dollar bills.
I worried about my poor toes as people recklessly swung their luggage off the belt and got pushed in multiple directions as others struggled for a spot upfront. Having placed my carry-on bags on a trolley, I had to be on the look out as people kept trying to push the trolley away from me to get better access to the conveyer belt. I have never experienced a baggage reclaim that was even anywhere close to as chaotic as this. I was pushed, shoved, harassed, and constantly fretting about my belongings. Lucky for me, my two bags arrived safe and sound.
I then proceeded through customs and finally to the airport exit. Men swarmed around me trying to grab my luggage or sell me a taxi-boat ticket, desperate for a tip in exchange for their assistance. Others probably did not have such harmless intentions, as I had been warned to protect all my belongings and be on the look out for thieves. I did my best to hold onto all of my bags and push through, scanning the crowd for someone bearing a sign with my company name on it. I had been told that a protocol manager would be there to meet me and get me onto the taxi-boat (yes, ferry/ water taxi ride). I began to panic internally when I realized there was no one with any such sign. A security guard saw that I was about to be swallowed up into a sea of jostling wannabe-porters and came to my assistance, pushing his way through the crowd ahead of me and creating a much-needed path for me. Realizing that the protocol manager was nowhere to be seen, the guard and another man took me to a less crowded area and asked for my name and what organization I was with. They took me to the taxi-boat center and a man was able to locate my ticket. They asked for tips and then went on their way when I obliged.
Lungi Airport is not actually in Freetown; Rather, it's across the Sierra Leone River from the actual capital city. Those arriving must either take a ten minute helicopter ride, a hovercraft, thirty minute speed boat, or a long ferry ride (which also drops passengers off in East Freetown, not a nice part of town). While the most expensive, it seems like the helicopter was the best bet. It is not that quick and drops passengers off in East Freetown. I was glad when the protocol manager opted to splurge for the ferry boat ticket for me. Finally at the airport's taxi-boat office, I was given a ticket and a man in a yellow airport vest (who I later obviously had to tip) took control of watching my luggage and getting it in the ferry. As I waited, I compared and contrasted my airport experiences in Monrovia and Freetown. What was worse? Arriving to a quiet and manageable airport at 1am only to realize your luggage had gone missing and you only had the clothes on your back? Or, arriving at a chaotic and frenzied airport and emerging with my luggage? I couldn't quite decide. After what seemed like an endless wait in the stuffy, humid office for the first ferry ride to depart and return, we boarded a van to take us to the launch pad. The taxi-boat turned out to be much nicer than expected. In contrast to some blogs I had read, it was even equipped with seats and seatbelts!.
I was in Freetown 30 minutes later. I was incredibly happy to see all my luggage had made the trip and even happier to see my driver with the company banner in hand. He was charged with getting me to my apartment and providing me with keys and phone. We drove through the darkened streets of Aberdeen (a neighborhood along the beach in West Freetown) and I peered out the window to observe my first glimpses of Freetown. Countless Sierra Leonians milled about or sat outside in the evening heat. Small market stalls lining the road were lit by a solitary light bulb or by candle light. It was a familiar site. Fast forward another ten minutes and we had gone up a bumpy dirty road to reach the apartment complex, where I would be staying. The driver handed me a thick envelope before departing. Opening my goody bag I was overjoyed to find an internet stick. It was reassuring to have instant communication with world upon arrival. I settled into my surroundings and went to bed exhausted and thinking about what new experiences and adventures the following days would bring! More soon...
Two weeks after unofficially being offered the job and one week after officially signing my contract, I was headed to Freetown on the coast of West Africa. The last two years I spent in Monrovia gave me a much needed confidence boost as I boarded the plane. I had loved my experience in Liberia, so hopefully Salone (as Sierra Leonians call it) would be the same. I flew from Beirut to Brussels (staying 4 days out there) and then directly from Brussels to Freetown. Similar to my experience flying to Monrovia, I made friends with an expat on the same flight. We touched down in Lungi International Airport around 7:45pm. The visa/immigration process in the tiny airport was quick and painless. If only baggage retrieval had been the same! Throngs of people cramped in around the conveyer belt forming rows and rows five people deep. I had to push my way into the crowd to even be able to see the bags as they cruised down the conveyer belt. Porters tried to grab my carry-on bags and hassled me in hopes that I would let me assist with my baggage in exchange for a few dollar bills.
I worried about my poor toes as people recklessly swung their luggage off the belt and got pushed in multiple directions as others struggled for a spot upfront. Having placed my carry-on bags on a trolley, I had to be on the look out as people kept trying to push the trolley away from me to get better access to the conveyer belt. I have never experienced a baggage reclaim that was even anywhere close to as chaotic as this. I was pushed, shoved, harassed, and constantly fretting about my belongings. Lucky for me, my two bags arrived safe and sound.
I then proceeded through customs and finally to the airport exit. Men swarmed around me trying to grab my luggage or sell me a taxi-boat ticket, desperate for a tip in exchange for their assistance. Others probably did not have such harmless intentions, as I had been warned to protect all my belongings and be on the look out for thieves. I did my best to hold onto all of my bags and push through, scanning the crowd for someone bearing a sign with my company name on it. I had been told that a protocol manager would be there to meet me and get me onto the taxi-boat (yes, ferry/ water taxi ride). I began to panic internally when I realized there was no one with any such sign. A security guard saw that I was about to be swallowed up into a sea of jostling wannabe-porters and came to my assistance, pushing his way through the crowd ahead of me and creating a much-needed path for me. Realizing that the protocol manager was nowhere to be seen, the guard and another man took me to a less crowded area and asked for my name and what organization I was with. They took me to the taxi-boat center and a man was able to locate my ticket. They asked for tips and then went on their way when I obliged.
Lungi Airport is not actually in Freetown; Rather, it's across the Sierra Leone River from the actual capital city. Those arriving must either take a ten minute helicopter ride, a hovercraft, thirty minute speed boat, or a long ferry ride (which also drops passengers off in East Freetown, not a nice part of town). While the most expensive, it seems like the helicopter was the best bet. It is not that quick and drops passengers off in East Freetown. I was glad when the protocol manager opted to splurge for the ferry boat ticket for me. Finally at the airport's taxi-boat office, I was given a ticket and a man in a yellow airport vest (who I later obviously had to tip) took control of watching my luggage and getting it in the ferry. As I waited, I compared and contrasted my airport experiences in Monrovia and Freetown. What was worse? Arriving to a quiet and manageable airport at 1am only to realize your luggage had gone missing and you only had the clothes on your back? Or, arriving at a chaotic and frenzied airport and emerging with my luggage? I couldn't quite decide. After what seemed like an endless wait in the stuffy, humid office for the first ferry ride to depart and return, we boarded a van to take us to the launch pad. The taxi-boat turned out to be much nicer than expected. In contrast to some blogs I had read, it was even equipped with seats and seatbelts!.
I was in Freetown 30 minutes later. I was incredibly happy to see all my luggage had made the trip and even happier to see my driver with the company banner in hand. He was charged with getting me to my apartment and providing me with keys and phone. We drove through the darkened streets of Aberdeen (a neighborhood along the beach in West Freetown) and I peered out the window to observe my first glimpses of Freetown. Countless Sierra Leonians milled about or sat outside in the evening heat. Small market stalls lining the road were lit by a solitary light bulb or by candle light. It was a familiar site. Fast forward another ten minutes and we had gone up a bumpy dirty road to reach the apartment complex, where I would be staying. The driver handed me a thick envelope before departing. Opening my goody bag I was overjoyed to find an internet stick. It was reassuring to have instant communication with world upon arrival. I settled into my surroundings and went to bed exhausted and thinking about what new experiences and adventures the following days would bring! More soon...
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