Finally in London

After much chaos, flight delays and a fascinating stopover in Libya, I am finally in London.  The handshake at the airport worked and I my name magically showed up on the flight manifest for Afriqiyah Airline's first post-ash flight to London. The people who showed up at the airport in Accra with boxing gloves did not make the flight.  Seems that faith and charm were the more effective tools this time. 

I'm not quite sure how to describe Tripoli.  There was something odd about the general energy in the airport - everyone was pretty much flying through to other places, I'm not sure many people actually leave the airport there and i'm pretty certain I was the only American in the whole place.  The landscape was really dilapidated and it all felt a bit eerie.  I spent $5 on 3 post cards of Qaddafi.  Very overpriced, but I wasn't exactly in the position to bargain.  I just couldn't resist the image of him in those sunglasses that look like they've been sitting on his face since he stepped into power in 1972. 

London has been a wonderful breath of spring air.  I've been really tired, so mostly just resting in the little studio flat where I'm staying, with a few outings to local markets.  Being here makes me realize how hard it is living in Accra.  All the little conveniences - healthy food available at reasonable prices just down the street, being able to walk places without melting or being hit by a crazy tro-tro driver, fast and reliable internet and the general orderliness of it all. 

Thanks to all of you who have been emailing and calling with your support.  I really, really appreciate it and it's making this trip a bit easier.  I'll keep you all updated on how things go.  I'm just glad to finally be here!

Faith, Charm and Boxing Gloves

I'm still in Ghana not feeling very well and trying desperately to get to London.  By now, all the flights to New York are booked for at least a week, so holding tight to my London ticket and trying to get rebooked is about all I can do.  I've spent the past 3 days making phone calls to several Afriqiyah Air #s here in Ghana as well as their main offices in Tripoli.  I have shown up at their local air representative office several times.  I just keep being told they don't have any information yet as to how they will handle rebookings.  Today, in tears and at my absolute edge, I went to the airport office (no one answered the phone all morning, so I decided to go prepared to sit there until they gave me an answer), explained my situation and told the guy I would not leave his office until I knew I was getting on the next flight out.  He was very good humored about it all and assured me he would get me on tonight's fully booked flight to Tripoli.  I asked for a confirmation.  His response was so very, very Ghanaian (and pretty Zen): "We did not have an appointment to meet today, yet here we both are.  You do not need a confirmation.  Come tonight, and I will get you on the plane."  I looked him straight in the eyes, asked him his name and then for his absolute assurance and shook his hand.  I guess that's as good a confirmation as one can get........

So, I will show up at the airport tonight, armed with faith, charm and boxing gloves - just in case. 

Ashes, Ashes We All Stay on the Ground

I've spent much of the week trying to get a flight to London to make the medical appts. I've got scheduled.  Unfortunately, I did not make it out of Ghana prior to the ash cloud erupting and floating oh so slowly over Europe.  My insurance company finally called last night and they've gotten me a flight out Monday night - on Afriqiyah Airlines via Tripoli, Libya.  Seriously.  This medical trip to London will no doubt be even more of an adventure than I had already thought.  I really hope I don't get stranded in Libya.  Not exactly a woman-friendly or American-friendly place to find yourself unexpectedly grounded. 

I found myself getting very stressed over the whole ordeal of getting a flight.  Then, I realized that it didn't matter whether I had a ticket or not - the ash cloud would determine whether and when I get to London.  I took several deep breaths and decided that this is just one, big cosmic lesson for us all - all our technology, pushing a button and getting what we want when we want it - is all just an illusion of some sort of control. In the end, it's Mother Nature and all of her amazing forces that controls what really goes on.  I'll be appealing to her for a lift in the cloud that allows me to get safely into and out of Tripoli and landed safely on the ground in London..........

London Calling

Since Easter, I've had a whole new cultural experience - the Ghanaian medical system. The kids & I were at the beach for the holiday and I came down with a serious fever, body aches and acute abdominal pain. After a couple of days of only getting worse, I finally called various doctors here and in the US and it started to look like another case of diverticulitis. We packed up and drove to Accra late Saturday night and I headed to a private hospital. They wanted cash when I checked in - I know from previous experience with diverticulitis that it's not easy or quick to deal with and knew I didn't have the cash for a several night stay and oodles of procedures. I finally paid them about $70 and assured them that I would straighten things out with my insurance company after I saw the doctor, got some antibiotics and rest.

The biggest difference I saw between the US and Ghanaian system was that they tend to have a more "wait and see" approach vs. doing probes, scans and medications for every little thing. They also did not start an immediate morphine drip - which seems to be standard protocol in the US (I think they've decided that drugged patients are easier to manage). The other big difference was the tape. Yes, the tape – the kind used for IVs. They have some sort of light brown old school tape that sticks horribly to the skin - and hair. Apparently, Ghanaians tend to not have a lot of body hair, so the tape isn't too problematic. However, for those of us with lighter skin - and more hair - it hurts like hell. I had the kids bring me some no-stick medical tape from home to be used for the remainder of my stay. The food was also not really helpful for diverticulitis - oily sauces, fried proteins and fried potatoes or rice. I ended up having my housekeeper bring me oatmeal and fruit.


The hospital did not have a CT scanner. So, I had to go to another clinic for a scan. Getting the scan was one thing - getting someone who could interpret it properly is entirely another. After more than a week of being better but still not feeling well, I'm heading to London for more tests. While it seems weird to jaunt off to London for medical tests, I am trying to think of it like living on the Island - I often had to go "off island" for medical tests (which meant Seattle or Tacoma). This time, I'm just going "off continent" (which means London)!