STUCK in Johannesburg.

11/24-11/25
When we were in Cape Town, South African Airlines put us on a flight that departed an hour and a half later—without telling us about the change—which meant that our connection in Johannesburg to catch our flight to Accra, Ghana (from the domestic to the international wing, through security checkpoints, and passport stamps) would be now be MUCH tighter, as in only 15 minutes or so. SAA representatives assured us that they would call Johannesburg, warning them to hold the flight.

We decided to get on the plane after an hour of contemplation of deciding whether we should fly out or stay in Cape Town a few more days (for a ticket change of only $18), because we loved it that much and Bradley was happy to host us as long as we needed a place to stay. We outweighed our love for Cape Town with looming obligations-mainly our Art History exam on Thursday, which we thought, but weren’t 100% sure might be possible to make up. We were distressed and divided 50:50 up until departure.

As our plane was landing in Jo-burg, SAA made an announcement for all passengers to allow those making tight connections (us and a few others) to allow us to get off first, but of course this didn’t happen. As soon as that seat belt sign dimmed, people jumped up and crowded the aisles, and of course we were already seated in the very back of the plane.

After racing aimlessly around the airport, going through security with “Eric”, an SAA worker, getting our passports stamped (by a lady that was in no particular rush to get things done for us), then sprinting to the gate, the rude and non-caring SAA attendants mumbled something to the extent of, “Tough luck.” The dang airplane was still on the runway/tarmac with the ramp extended all the way out to the aircraft’s door. The ladies repeatedly shook their heads at us, as we repeatedly begged, eventually with flowing tears, to get on the flight. The ladies went so far and even laughed at us after a few minutes of pleading. At this point, Kenz and I were outright astounded thinking about our now unmet obligations at home in Ghana, not to mention the fact that we could still be “living the life” in Cape Town, if we had chosen otherwise. I was crying hysterically, too, at the thought of being two lonely white girls with no agenda in one of the world's most dangerous cities, Johannesburg.

After realizing that there was no chance of us getting on the plane, we walked across the airport to an SAA counter. The SAA counterman shook his head with disbelief, wondering how SAA could have ever put us on such a tight connection. He filled out hotel/taxi/phone/food vouchers for us and explained what we'd be doing for the next two days, as the next flight to Accra wasn't departing until Wednesday (today is Monday). It seemed like life kept getting worse and worse and that we were growing increasingly unlucky, as we waited around for and hour and a half thinking our bags were MIA. After being anxious and more distressed, they finally turned up...thank goodness.

A Mercedes Benz escorted us to the Don Eastgate Hotel and the next days were filled with: hot showers and hot baths, A/C, a TV with cable (yes, cable, and we watched "Oprah's Big Give" and "The Apprentice"), incredible room service catering a steak dinner with mashed potatoes and salad, the most INCREDIBLE chocolate mousse that I've had in my life, potato salad, etc., an amazing continental breakfast (wow, imagine that!) with muesli and strawberry yogurt and a plethora of other yummy delights, a balcony with two chairs where we read, and a swimming pool that overlooked a lake with a beautiful red bridge stretching from left to right under a fluffy cotton ball sky...

The funny thing is that Kenz and I thought we were "down-on-our-luck". The first night, I literally said, "Gosh, our lives stink," as I looked down and realized that I was holding a silver room service platter in my arms with steak dinners. Boy, was I wrong. It wasn't bad luck, it was a blessing in disguise...we even got a "South African Temporary Residence Permit", pasted in our passports, out of the deal!

As we were checking out Wednesday morning, I caught a glimpse of the newspaper headline and main photo, featuring Oprah and a group of kids. I knew immediately what it would be about. The caption read, "Oprah Winfrey visits her Johannesburg Leadership Academy, yesterday [Tuesday]." I could not believe it. She must have literally passed our hotel on the way.

Saying "goodbye" to South Africa 2 days later than expected,
C