Getting Here is Part of the Struggle! Pt 1

Hey everyone!
So I know by now you are all experiencing symptoms associated with “Y.Vee withdrawal,” well have no fear…I have the perfect antidote to cure that: Laughter from Liberia!

The waiting is OVER! So, It’s been four weeks since..OHH HOLD THE PHONE! OK…so as I’m sitting here typing this re-cap, there is a HUGE 6-legged Tarantula (with enough fur for a small peacoat) CHILLIN on my ceiling. Your boy is NOT budging…clearly he is like…Shorty, I got here first… umm… yeah…This too is Liberia! Where’s my Raid?! (In Liberia, having a can of Raid, is like riding the metro in DC…essential)

Ok…back to what I was saying, so it’s been 4 weeks since I touched down in Monrov (which I will interchangeably call, “Da Lib!” I love how I’m trying to make a post-conflict nation sound “Gangsta.”…Like it needs any help…the country just went through a 14 year civil war…shouldn’t that be gangsta enough?) Anywho, here we go.

Oct 29th: so after a 5 hour flight to Brussels, a 6 hour layover, and a roughly 7 hour flight to Monrovia (ohh by the way, I especially love how when its time to board a flight to an African country, boarding by seating assignment is COMPLETELY thrown OUT the window…I never did understand what the big rush was all about….I mean, the plane can’t leave without us, right? Yea, I didn’t understand the phenomenon, until I got on the flight 3rd to last and found that all the overhead bins where filled with ALL the duty-free items my fellow travelers had so graciously stocked up on in Brussels…Thanks! Lesson Learned.

Ohh, I apologize, I must back up EVEN further to an experience in DC.

So, I arrive probably a little LATER than I should’ve for an international flight. So while I’m checking in, I do this thing where I leave my carry on luggage to the side, so no one can make a fuss about how it’s too big, because here’s the thing: IT’S NOT TOO BIG! Clearly I’ve traveled with it before… the airline companies are just being WAYY TO PRESSED!

So I get through check in, and I’m going towards the line for security. WHAT IN DA HEEZY?! A LINE FOR YEARS. At this point I have 45 minutes to clear security, catch a shuttle to another terminal at the other end of the airport, locate my gate, and board. Think quick Yvonne, because if you want to make this flight, you cannot stand in this line. So, I ask one of the workers around, if there is another way to get around all of this and explain my pretty simple, yet urgent matter.

What’s that you say? Shouldn’t be a problem to get assistance from this would-be friendly airport employee? Yea, not so much!

Instead of this chick gleefully whizzing me to the front of the line (as they had done during check in—so I didn’t think it was too far-fetched to expect that option) she starts talking some mumbo jumbo about how my bag was too big and I would have to check it in

Translation: pay $120 for excess luggage. Yea, Crack still kills. It really does!

At this point, I’m like, “oh, she must be new.” After taking inventory of other passenger’s carry on luggage, I point out that their bags are just as big as mine, to which she widens he eyes and boldly declares, “They are in First Class!” Well GEE GOLLY thank you ever so much for making me feel like a second class citizen! Who cares that my ticket costs over $2,000…

Ok, now, I realize that this chick is crazy, so I start to walk away from her and she proceeds to kindly inform me that there are camera’s all around watching my every move…Crap. Ok, now she’s got me. SO I try to reason with her. I detect a Spanish accent, so my 7 years of Spanish classes and brief stint in the DR start to kick in. this is my attempt to play nice girl (because, maybe, just maybe, we got off on the wrong foot.) “ Senora, por favor, lo siento, pero estoy muy tarde. Nessesito ir.”

Blank look (now she’s looking at ME like “this chick is crazy. I am not impressed by her 3rd grade level Spanish!”)

What to do… Now the frustration is slowly creeping back as the ordeal has drawn stares by other passengers....

to be continued..