Arrival in Mali

Our plane landed about an hour late at the Senou airport in the capital city of Bamako here in Mali. I did get a couple of hours sleep on this 5 hour flight from Paris. Interestingly, as soon as the plane touched down, two persons unbuckled their seat belts and darted for the front of the plane, carry-on baggage in hand. I mean, the plane was still decelerating at over a hundred miles an hour. It was fun watching the flight attendants trying to convince them that they needed to return to their seats and to not open the cabin door at this point. I have seen this before upon arriving at remote airports.

The tiny airport was a madhouse. Immigration was easy, but Customs pulled my smaller luggage out for a personal inspection and an interview. This the first time that I have been pulled out. I was bringing a new laptop to the CO. It seems my Save the Children (SC)ID card around my neck did not impress them. But my SC business card they found in the luggage did. I always generously sprinkle my business cards throughout my luggage. I recalled a bit of French, so I uttered something about, pour l'infants (for the babies), which is the only thing that came to my jet-lagged mind from 4 years of french language classes 40 years ago. They let me go. This was one of them most chaotic airport arrival areas that I have encountered. It ranks right up there with the Soviet era airport in Tajikistan. Everyone pushing and shoving with tempers flaring. The luggage porters are competing with each other to grab your luggage once you spot it on the conveyor. I always try to trick them by noting my luggage emerging without displaying my glee, but they frequently can tell. I successful fought them (I dislike strongly the extended negotiations on their fee later) off, only to pick up two of them needed to convey (supposedly) me through the customs interview.

All the while I am watching the conveyor to spot my luggage festooned with bright ribbons on the handles. I am also trying to keep an eye on the line forming in the customs area. More than once, I have seen someone mistaken walking off with my luggage. Frankly, I love this part. At least it is something to blog about!