After three flights (Dakar to Bamako, Bamako to Nairobi, Nairobi to Johannesburg) and half an hour from OR Tambo to the house I sold in December, I arrived, safe and sound, on Thursday afternoon. It felt strange walking back into my old home – especially as I had not expected to be back in South Africa until this December.
A week ago the organisation made the difficult decision to wind down the field service in Senegal (I shared the media release earlier this week) and things began happening very quickly. My actual decision to come back was made in a very short amount of time. Call it seven minutes… the time it took me to google a flight back to South Africa, after calling an old friend for advice, and whilst on the phone to a new friend from the SA embassy in Dakar. The airport was due to shut down its operations imminently, and when I saw there were only a few seats left on Kenya Airways at around R8000, and that the next two ticket prices were R23k and R235k respectively, I booked the flight that left in less than twenty-four hours.
I was travelling as far as Nairobi with three fellow crew members. In the Dakar Airport the majority of travellers were wearing masks, and everyone was maintaining a respectful distance. Not being alone was reassuring, and I was glad for the solidarity and company. One of my travel mates had a scare as her onwards flights from Nairobi had been cancelled. We decided to keep moving forward, and sort it out once there. I’m sure that when she finally got home, she must have been emotionally and physically exhausted.
So yes, I’m back. And who knows for how long – I imagine it will be months, and months. I will return to the ship once COVID-19 is no longer a threat, and the world resets to normal. And when the field service can begin again…
For now, I still have stories to write, and will do whatever writing is required to support the mission. It won’t be a full-time job, so I’m thinking of taking on a few short term projects to earn a little money. I’ll decide what I’m going to do next week.
In the meantime, I’m self-quarantining… I decided that three airports and three flights are too risky for me to see my family or catch up with old mates, even if they were not “hot spots”. I’m now being hosted by an incredibly gracious and supportive friend, who bought my house… At least we have company! And I get to cook and clean for a while again… and sleep in a ‘normal’ bed.
There is a slightly unsettling familiarity about being back here. I can’t believe that it’s actually only been two months that I’ve been away. I want to hold onto the memory of those two months on the ship in Senegal. Thank goodness I saved so many stories, thinking I’d have to stretch them out over the many months ahead, just in case I ran out of material.
For now, like everyone else, I’m going to responsibly adjust to the new normal. Tomorrow I’m having coffee and cake with the family, via Group FaceTime – mom and dad from about two kilometres away; Vera & Thorsten, from about five kilometres away; and Annette and Marcel, who are thousands of kilometres away in Switzerland.
And I’ll see what I can bake for the occasion. There are so many new things happening at the moment, that me actually trying to bake something doesn’t sound too far-fetched, does it?
Everything communicated here reflects my own personal opinion and is neither reviewed nor endorsed by Mercy Ships.14