A post from our guest

We would like to share with you a blog post by one of our visitors, BJU Africa mission team. You can read a full post here

Last year’s overnight stay at the Dar airport was a nightmare; you can read about it here. I decided during the planning for this trip that that was not going to happen again. When I noticed that we were scheduled to arrive in the early evening and leave after noon the next day, I asked some acquaintances with ties to Dar to recommend a hotel, and they all said that the Transit Motel Airport was both close and inexpensive, and “clean for an African hotel.” I’ve been to Africa quite a bit, but I don’t know what that phrase means in practical terms; and the fact that they’re calling it a “motel,” which is, as far as I know, a uniquely American term, makes me wonder. But our travel agent said they had 4 rooms available at $40 each, so I booked ‘em. (Don’t let the price scare you; I know what an American hotel would look like at that price, but things are a lot cheaper in Africa. And no “Book ‘em, Dano” jokes either.)

Because we’ve already purchased our visas, we’re the first ones through immigration, and we find most of our bags in short order. Most of them. Sarah M is missing her 1 checked bag; Lois her 2 (and no, she didn’t overpack: she’s going home to Korea for the rest of the summer after this trip, so she packed for two locations; no snide remarks, especially sexist ones, will be tolerated); and one of the cardboard boxes for Tumaini is missing as well. I go by the luggage service desk, and at 3 in the morning it’s staffed and ready to help. She consults her computer and tells us that all the pieces are still in Zurich. That doesn’t surprise me; we had to hustle to make that Istanbul flight, and I’m surprised the baggage crew there got as much of our luggage on the changed flight as they did.
She tells me they’ll all be sent to Dar. Will they be here tomorrow morning, before our flight out to Mwanza? No. OK, send them on to MWZ. Thanks. By this time the customs staff has gone home, so we sidle on through and out to the plaza in front of the airport. I’ve been here before, so I walk over to the taxi table and ask if I can get a ride for 9 people and luggage to the Transit Motel Airport. They mobilize—at 3 am—and, in typical African fashion at the prospect of a big job, get everybody involved with lots of shouting and waving and finger-pointing, and when it’s all over, we have 3 minivans filled with luggage, with at least 1 male team member in each vehicle. 10 bucks per vehicle. OK.

It’s literally just 2 blocks to the hotel, a gated compound on a side street. The gate rolls open for us, and the desk clerk has our rooms ready. Three are right in a row, and the other is on the other side of the small building, within earshot. Asher and Nathanael, the 2 biggest guys, will go there. Matt and I will take the room between the 2 girls’ rooms. Each room has a double bed with mosquito netting, a table and 2 chairs, a bathroom / shower, and a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall. Oh, and a ceiling fan. That’s good. And a breakfast buffet is included.