Amabokoboko
1st Sep 2004, 06:15
This from a mate of mine, presently working in Ghana. It's a wonderful description of what the folk down the back end of the plane go through in darkest Afrique. I've changed their names, and the name of the airline and the flight number.
.....Wednesday afternoon 16:00. Kotoka International
Airport, Accra, Ghana.
Edward (work colleague) and I wait to board the one and
only aircraft of A1 Airlines to Kumasi. We check in and
get a photocopied hand written boarding pass with no
seating arrangement . Fair enough. Ten minutes later our
flight is announced and there is a mad rush to the door. We
decide to rush as well and get to the door 4th and 5th
respectively. We place our bags through the machine and
pass through the barrier an start to get searched. The
conveyer system is far more efficient than the gentleman
doing the searching and all the bags end up in a big pile on
the floor as the person on the other end is not aware.
Fortunately my binoculars are well padded. We walk out of
the terminal and get in a bus. Ed and I split our resources
and take different doors to try and get a good seat. Once
we are all in the bus, the driver drives no more than 30
meters (I kid you not, he did not get out of first gear)
and then stops and the doors open. I take the gap and I am
first up the ladder and into the plane. Ed is third. It is
a good start to our trip.
My initial excitement of getting a good seat is quickly
dissolved as a massive (MASSIVE) Ghanaian lady finds the
seat next to me to be particularly attractive. She is one
of those people who should have booked 2 places and should
not be allowed to take any luggage.
Once settled, I realise that all written communication on
board is in some eastern European language, which would
make this an eastern European plane. Is it second hand?
What is it doing in Ghana? The captain greets everyone on
board with a strong eastern European accent. I weigh up the
options...Ghanaian Pilot in Ghanian Plane...Ghanaian Pilot
in Eastern European Plane....Eastern European Pilot in
Ghanaian Plane....Eastern European Pilot in Eastern
European plane. I think to myself that we have definitely
got the best deal. At 15 000 feet, snacks consisting of
deep fried nuts in batter or deep fried plantain are
served. I opted for the latter. The lack of
air-conditioning makes for a bit of an uncomfortable
flight.
They say that any landing you walk away from is a good one.
Saturday afternoon 16:20. Kumasi (used to be international)
Airport, Kumasi, Ghana.
Having fought for and hour and a half through traffic to
get to the airport, Ed and I rush in. It is with a little
bit of anxiousness that we approach the building. We are
the only car in the parking lot of the airport.. Our
problem was that we did not have the correct tickets, but
our client has guaranteed that they have phoned A1
Airline and have changed the flight details and all we have
to do is mention our names. What a pleasure to be dropped
off at the entrance to the building with no irritating
porters or car guards. Just Ed and I and the airport. We approach the one and only counter and two men sit busily
behind the counter. We give our names and they quickly
check a hand written flight sheet of names. There is no
Bester or Simpkin. We assure them that our client made the
booking, but know that any number of options could be
thrown back at us. They question and again we assure them.
They take a deep breath and take our tickets to check the
names (which are actually spelt Besteri and Simpkinie on the
tickets). Both Ed and I hold our breaths. It is now or
Monday morning. Again the two men scrutinise the hand
written sheet, take a deep breath. They talk to each other.
Then they take out a clen piece of paper with lines on it
and numbered 1 to 30. Ed and I are entered as numbers 23
and 24 respectively. There are no other names on the sheet.
We do not ask any quastions. They issue us with two
photocopied hand written boarding passes for Hesteri and
Watkinie. The back of my boarding pass has a hand written
list of items. I cannot make out the writing. We ask them
what time the flight leaves. It is then that the one
gentleman realises he has not filled in the board behind
him. He then rubs out the chalk with his hand and finds a
tiny piece of chalk with which to write. He fills in the
date, time and flight number and destination of the flight.
We walk away from the counter. We both agreed that they did
not check the tickets. They were too pre-occupied with the
names to check the details. If they had they would have
seen that we were booked on yesterdays flight and there is
no way that they would believe us that our client has made
the change. We are over the first hurdle.
Ed and I get a beer and watch as one after the other
passengers arrive and check the sheet to see if they are
on. It seems nobody booked as everyone has to be added.
Passesngers are mostly returning from a funeral and are all
wearing dresses and shirts made of the same cloth. The
cloth is red and has a picture of the deceased as well as
his date of birth and death. I see he died 3 weeks ago.
Funerals are big here. They are bigger than weddings and
almost as big as bribery, which means to be the owner of a
morgue is not such a bad position as there is only so much
space and a lot of dead bodies and desperate relatives.
There comes a point at about 5:15 when the plane is now
full. Tension grows as passengers are turned away. Feeling
a little exposed with only a hand written boarding pass and
growing numbers of disgruntled passengers, Ed cunningly
decides to book his small bag in, so if he does not make it
onto the plane, he can protest that his luggage is on board
and maybe they will let him go. I am not letting my luggage
out of my sight. Still worried that they will check our
tickets and not believe us that we did book, Ed and I wait
nervously. Time moves by and tempers begin to fly. Ed and I
are first in line at the gate. At 5:30 the pilots arrive,
whew same Eastern European chaps.
At 18:50 they announce the flight..."Flight A123 A1
Airlines to Accra now boarding through gate 1". (Just as
well they mentioned the flight number and door otherwise we
might get lost considering this is the only flight of the
day from the Airport). Ed and I are 2nd and 3rd through the
gate respectively. Again we place our baggage through the
machine while we get searched and again it ends on the
floor. I compare this to the Sydney and Melbourne airports.
Ed and I hit the lounge and make our way straight to the
exit door which is still closed. Surely we have made it by
now. Ed and I wait at the final hurdle, the glass door out
onto the runway. I leave a metre in between me and the
door. A loose-scrum ensues and a particularly large Ghanain
manages to get ahead of me. A few minutes later the doors
open and we are through. No bus in Kumasi, and I am first
on the plane again. Whew, we are on. I settle down and make
myself comfortable. I realise that I still have my boarding
pass in my hand. Nobody checked any of the boarding passes.
Half a minute later, I cannot believe my luck when who
should sit down next to me but the very same MASSIVE lady
who sat next to me on the way up 4 days ago. Turns out she
owns a fleet of fishing boats in Tema. Our take-off is
perfect. After a few minutes smoke starts to bellow from
above everyones heads down the length of the plane. After
the initial shock, I realise it is the air-con (which is
thankfully working) creating the 'disco gas' effect. It is
actually quite nice. Our landing is good and I am glad to
be back in Accra. Again we board the bus, but this time
drive around the plane and back to the building, thus
making the trip a little more worthwhile.
.....Wednesday afternoon 16:00. Kotoka International
Airport, Accra, Ghana.
Edward (work colleague) and I wait to board the one and
only aircraft of A1 Airlines to Kumasi. We check in and
get a photocopied hand written boarding pass with no
seating arrangement . Fair enough. Ten minutes later our
flight is announced and there is a mad rush to the door. We
decide to rush as well and get to the door 4th and 5th
respectively. We place our bags through the machine and
pass through the barrier an start to get searched. The
conveyer system is far more efficient than the gentleman
doing the searching and all the bags end up in a big pile on
the floor as the person on the other end is not aware.
Fortunately my binoculars are well padded. We walk out of
the terminal and get in a bus. Ed and I split our resources
and take different doors to try and get a good seat. Once
we are all in the bus, the driver drives no more than 30
meters (I kid you not, he did not get out of first gear)
and then stops and the doors open. I take the gap and I am
first up the ladder and into the plane. Ed is third. It is
a good start to our trip.
My initial excitement of getting a good seat is quickly
dissolved as a massive (MASSIVE) Ghanaian lady finds the
seat next to me to be particularly attractive. She is one
of those people who should have booked 2 places and should
not be allowed to take any luggage.
Once settled, I realise that all written communication on
board is in some eastern European language, which would
make this an eastern European plane. Is it second hand?
What is it doing in Ghana? The captain greets everyone on
board with a strong eastern European accent. I weigh up the
options...Ghanaian Pilot in Ghanian Plane...Ghanaian Pilot
in Eastern European Plane....Eastern European Pilot in
Ghanaian Plane....Eastern European Pilot in Eastern
European plane. I think to myself that we have definitely
got the best deal. At 15 000 feet, snacks consisting of
deep fried nuts in batter or deep fried plantain are
served. I opted for the latter. The lack of
air-conditioning makes for a bit of an uncomfortable
flight.
They say that any landing you walk away from is a good one.
Saturday afternoon 16:20. Kumasi (used to be international)
Airport, Kumasi, Ghana.
Having fought for and hour and a half through traffic to
get to the airport, Ed and I rush in. It is with a little
bit of anxiousness that we approach the building. We are
the only car in the parking lot of the airport.. Our
problem was that we did not have the correct tickets, but
our client has guaranteed that they have phoned A1
Airline and have changed the flight details and all we have
to do is mention our names. What a pleasure to be dropped
off at the entrance to the building with no irritating
porters or car guards. Just Ed and I and the airport. We approach the one and only counter and two men sit busily
behind the counter. We give our names and they quickly
check a hand written flight sheet of names. There is no
Bester or Simpkin. We assure them that our client made the
booking, but know that any number of options could be
thrown back at us. They question and again we assure them.
They take a deep breath and take our tickets to check the
names (which are actually spelt Besteri and Simpkinie on the
tickets). Both Ed and I hold our breaths. It is now or
Monday morning. Again the two men scrutinise the hand
written sheet, take a deep breath. They talk to each other.
Then they take out a clen piece of paper with lines on it
and numbered 1 to 30. Ed and I are entered as numbers 23
and 24 respectively. There are no other names on the sheet.
We do not ask any quastions. They issue us with two
photocopied hand written boarding passes for Hesteri and
Watkinie. The back of my boarding pass has a hand written
list of items. I cannot make out the writing. We ask them
what time the flight leaves. It is then that the one
gentleman realises he has not filled in the board behind
him. He then rubs out the chalk with his hand and finds a
tiny piece of chalk with which to write. He fills in the
date, time and flight number and destination of the flight.
We walk away from the counter. We both agreed that they did
not check the tickets. They were too pre-occupied with the
names to check the details. If they had they would have
seen that we were booked on yesterdays flight and there is
no way that they would believe us that our client has made
the change. We are over the first hurdle.
Ed and I get a beer and watch as one after the other
passengers arrive and check the sheet to see if they are
on. It seems nobody booked as everyone has to be added.
Passesngers are mostly returning from a funeral and are all
wearing dresses and shirts made of the same cloth. The
cloth is red and has a picture of the deceased as well as
his date of birth and death. I see he died 3 weeks ago.
Funerals are big here. They are bigger than weddings and
almost as big as bribery, which means to be the owner of a
morgue is not such a bad position as there is only so much
space and a lot of dead bodies and desperate relatives.
There comes a point at about 5:15 when the plane is now
full. Tension grows as passengers are turned away. Feeling
a little exposed with only a hand written boarding pass and
growing numbers of disgruntled passengers, Ed cunningly
decides to book his small bag in, so if he does not make it
onto the plane, he can protest that his luggage is on board
and maybe they will let him go. I am not letting my luggage
out of my sight. Still worried that they will check our
tickets and not believe us that we did book, Ed and I wait
nervously. Time moves by and tempers begin to fly. Ed and I
are first in line at the gate. At 5:30 the pilots arrive,
whew same Eastern European chaps.
At 18:50 they announce the flight..."Flight A123 A1
Airlines to Accra now boarding through gate 1". (Just as
well they mentioned the flight number and door otherwise we
might get lost considering this is the only flight of the
day from the Airport). Ed and I are 2nd and 3rd through the
gate respectively. Again we place our baggage through the
machine while we get searched and again it ends on the
floor. I compare this to the Sydney and Melbourne airports.
Ed and I hit the lounge and make our way straight to the
exit door which is still closed. Surely we have made it by
now. Ed and I wait at the final hurdle, the glass door out
onto the runway. I leave a metre in between me and the
door. A loose-scrum ensues and a particularly large Ghanain
manages to get ahead of me. A few minutes later the doors
open and we are through. No bus in Kumasi, and I am first
on the plane again. Whew, we are on. I settle down and make
myself comfortable. I realise that I still have my boarding
pass in my hand. Nobody checked any of the boarding passes.
Half a minute later, I cannot believe my luck when who
should sit down next to me but the very same MASSIVE lady
who sat next to me on the way up 4 days ago. Turns out she
owns a fleet of fishing boats in Tema. Our take-off is
perfect. After a few minutes smoke starts to bellow from
above everyones heads down the length of the plane. After
the initial shock, I realise it is the air-con (which is
thankfully working) creating the 'disco gas' effect. It is
actually quite nice. Our landing is good and I am glad to
be back in Accra. Again we board the bus, but this time
drive around the plane and back to the building, thus
making the trip a little more worthwhile.