This was my first post after landing in Freetown. I remember feeling like I was on a different planet. I had expected to be a foil to everything I had perceived to be bad and dangerous in Africa. I was a white kid with much to learn. Compared with my flight last year from the regional airport outside Freetown to Monrovia and trying to clear customs there, this was a breeze.
Viewed in light of safety and reliability standards in the developed world (especially Switzerland), riding this whirlybird was unadulterated stupidity. But a necessity. One year later, the day before I would leave Sierra Leone, one of the helicopters caught fire on its approach to Lungi airport. Two of its three pilots bailed. They hit tarmac and died. The third pilot survived. The sport delegation from neighbouring Togo, in town for a football match, was consumed by flames.
I've decided that I will want to re-upload all my movies to YouTube in HD. I had fortunately brought along one of the first pro-sumer HD cams that existed at the time. Even if it were possible at the time, uploading HD would have been impossible given the reliability of internet in Sierra Leone.
Day 1
June 7th, 2006
We arrived last night in Freetown ninety minutes late. Typical. The international airport here is quite undeveloped, and there are a few small planes kicking around, and various helicopters in disrepair. There are few lights from the air, and almost none on the ground.
Getting off the plane, I felt the warm, air cling to my skin like some kind of blanket I would have been happier without. This is the cold season. The wait to get through customs was thirty minutes or so, and there was a group of Canadian teenagers there on a 3-week trip with an international organization.
Our flight was the only one that arrived that evening, and the 200-or-so people there waited for one of 6 customs officers to allow us into the country. Some people had a long and difficult time, but I passed through in less than a minute, without any problems. Our baggage came in on one of two carousels. I hadn’t locked my bags and was afraid it might have been torn open, but it arrived unharmed. Even my piano was in decent shape.
I was spared the normal customs routine of having everything ripped open and eyed by the inspectors.
Apparently they ask you if they can have some of your stuff. I’m not sure what the right answer would be. We waited in a terminal that really looked like an oversized barn for our helicopter. Our ticket was a wooden tag. The helicopter looked equally primitive. It was a Ukrainian beast. There were three crew members and some of the windows were open. It was loud, but at least there was a breeze.
The trip to the city was surprisingly long and as dark as expected. We flew low enough so that if the engines quit there would be no autorotation, but high enough that we’d die if the bad boy decided to stop flying. Luckily turbine engines are reliable and the Soviets built better helicopters than cars.
Freetown is dark at night. A few people have electricity and some people make fires. We arrived at the gate of the house. Our security guards come from Group 4. Talk about globalization. The house is relatively nice and spacious. There is a “secure” room in case of armed robbery, but I am told the risk is significantly lower than a few years ago. A couple years ago, they had to evacuate… the country.
This is an interesting place.