I was just kidding about never seeing Agatha again because sure enough, I saw her the very next day. Let me explain:
After my (un)happy Mother’s Day, mom and I set off for the Mwanza airport with my namesake Tito, the taxi driver. We packed all this stuff into the car:
and then I said goodbye to our Maasai warrior guard.
When we got to the airport, mom put me in my cage (which I totally hate, it’s so demeaning) because all the Tanzanians were afraid of me. We went through security and got to the check-in counter with more than enough time to spare. But, unsurprisingly, no one knew quite what to do with me. They said it was impossible for me to fly even though mom had already made arrangements for me with the manager.
So I waited patiently (or not so patiently, I’ll admit I cried a bit) while mom fought for my right to board the airplane.
Everyone ignored her because they just didn’t want to deal with a situation that made them think outside the box. Eventually, it got too late and the plane simply left without us so we were forced (well, mom was forced, I was happy) to go back to our house for the night.
I was ecstatic when we got home and did leaps of joy around the house.
You know what was the icing on the cake? When I woke up the next morning, Agatha was there! Hooray! Unfortunately, we really needed to leave on Monday since our flight to Amsterdam was leaving that evening from Dar es Salaam. So, around noon, I said my goodbyes to everyone again.
Once more, we arrived at the Mwanza airport and into my cage I went.
This time, the people at the airport were prepared for me and things went much more smoothly. Mom handed me off to the Tanzanian baggage handlers to be loaded into the luggage part of the plane. I was not super excited about this, but since I was in my cage there really wasn’t much to be done about the situation.
I was driven out to the airplane on a tractor (without my mom) and loaded onto the little ATR airplane, since all of Precision Air’s Boeings are not working.
You know where they put me? In the baggage section like I was nothing special. Below me there was a bucket of dead fish that I had to smell for the entire flight and above me was one of mom’s massive bags. I’m lucky that I even survived!
Finally, after an agonizing two hours, we arrived in Dar and reunited with mom’s taxi driver friend Sham. Since no hotels would allow us to enter, Sham took us to a place called Coco Beach to pass the time until our next flight.
Here’s where I spent my very last hours in Tanzania, not too shabby if you ask me!
But, as I’ve learned in my short life, all good things much come to an end. So, after the sun had set, mom and I headed back to the airport to continue our marathon journey back to America.