Today was supposed to be a rest day but a last minute change in flight schedule meant that it became a travel day. Anyone who has travelled with Lupine Tours knows that nearly every day is chocked full of things to see and do. No one does these tours for rest and relaxation. They are meant for explorers or ADD people like me. But eventually even us stimulation junkies need a break and they will usually throw one in in the middle of the trip.
Unfortunately our flight to Benghazi on LibyanWings for tomorrow was cancelled so today we had to take a flight on Buraq Air, a mostly domestic Libyan carrier. So off to the airport we go. Western Libya is under the control of the National Transition Council (the group NATO wanted to work with after Qaddafi fell), but Eastern Libya is under the control of a rival government called the Haftars (or the Libyan National Army). Each government thinks the other is illegitimate though they seem to cooperate when it comes to security, currency, infrastructure and other matters meant to make the country functional. But flying from one part of the country to the other is almost like flying internationally (minus the passport stamp… dammit.)
Much of the day was spent hurrying up and waiting, handing over our passports, getting them back and then immediately being asked to hand them over again, running bags through X-ray devices watched by security guards more interested in their phones than the bags, and then repeating the whole thing.
At one point, while waiting for our gate to be announced we all found some open seats and had a sit. I ended up sitting next to a rather severe looking older man in traditional Islamic dress with his wife who was rummaging through her suitcase for a niqab to wear for Benghazi.
After sitting there for a while the man must have seen my US passport and asked in English:
Him: ‘’Are you American?’’
I said: ‘’Yes’’
Him: ‘’Where in America are you from?’’
Me: ‘’New York City’’
Him: ‘’Are there lots of Libyans there?’’
Me: ‘’Yes, I think so’’ (probably, right??)
Then after a pause, he pointed at the ceiling and said:
‘’Muhammed is the last prophet of God. No other prophets followed him.’’
I said: ‘’Okay’’
Him: ‘’The Qu’ran is the holy book of God.’’
Me: ‘’Okay’’
Him: ‘’Are you Muslim?’’
Me: ‘’No’’
Him (reassuringly): ‘’Oh, it’s all the same God’’.
Me (with relief): ‘’Yes, it is.’’
With that settled, his demeanor softened. He pulled out his phone and started showing me pictures of his granddaughters, his house, and pictures of some beautiful places that I *must* see near Benghazi. He's a very creative photographer. As he’s scrolling through his phone, I see cat pictures so I say ‘’I’ve got cats’’ and we showed each other our cat photos. (Because what bridges divides better than sharing photos of our cats?)
Finally, our gate is called so he and his wife take off and I walk over with our group to the gate. The boarding line is divided into three queues: 1) Libyan men; 2) Libyan women, and 3) foreigners of any gender. We got into line three. But then the chaos started as we’re immediately pulled out of our line by our fixer and shoved to the front. A few of us go through the metal detector and bag scanner but then we’re urgently told that we need to go back somewhere for some unclear reason, so I pull my bag and go back the wrong way through the detector to the security guy's protests. Then a guy in a flannel shirt with no official markings on him asks for our passports and disappears. No one knows what is going on, so we stand there and wait.
Finally, after an uncomfortably long wait, Flannel Guy and our passports reappear and we can go through the detectors again. So we do, and were finally able to board the bus to take us to the plane to Benghazi.
After an hour’s flight, we landed in Benghazi. As we got close to landing, some women who weren’t wearing niqabs started putting them on. Benghazi is definitely rougher-looking and more conservative than Tripoli, but the people are friendly. After a sunset walk on the ocean front corniche where locals wanted to take selfies with us, we had dinner at a kebab place. Now it’s time to call it a night.
My Libyan photos are here (Opens in new tab.)
No comments:
Post a Comment