The One Where I Leave My Passport At Home

I guess it had to happen once in my life

Those of you who know me, know that I am a very precise, tidy person and I’m fond of double checking. I double check emails before sending them, close windows before heading out, repeat calculations twice, etc.

So imagine my horror when, in a car with my friends halfway to the airport a few weeks ago, it suddenly dawned on me that I’d left my passport at home!

Luckily, nine months in Malawi have taught me that these are not life’s real problems, so in a relatively calm manner, I called the lodge where I currently live and, in a mix of simplified English and broken Chichewa, I tried to explain to Gift, one of the cleaners, that she had to go to my room, look inside my big black backpack, find a brown envelope and look inside, where my passport would be.

In the meantime, my friend kept driving to Blantyre, where the airport is, while his wife called a local taxi driver and instructed him to go to the lodge for an urgent pick-up. Meanwhile, Gift was still on the phone with me, and I could hear her running (hopefully to my room!) — which made me laugh, given that people’s normal pace in Malawi is about 0.0000001 miles per hour. She managed to get there and find the backpack and by some miracle was joined by the Office Manager, who speaks excellent English and found the passport straightaway.

We had by then arrived to Shoprite, my meeting point with the driver who would take me to the airport. I called South African Airlines to explain there had been an accident on the way to the airport, the road was blocked and I wasn’t sure I would make it in time. They said the best bet was trying to call the airport to alert the check in desk. They regretted they didn’t have the number.

I googled Chileka International Airport, but needless to say, nothing came of it: the size of the departure lounge equals to my living room and security control staff are often found eating chips… You get the picture!

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