a tale of airports, woe, conmen and joy

Well we're back from our break at the coast (pictures coming soon...) but first the story of getting hold of our freight, from about 10 days ago.

We had 2 lots of freight coming: one which was planned (in boxes and barrels), and the other speedily sent by Stuart as freight at Heathrow rather than excess luggage to avoid paying £2500. Well, apparently it's very difficult to get your stuff out of customs, so someone suggested someone to come and help us clear it. Someone had a friend who was an agent, or at least had used this guy before. Agent wanted lots of money: apparently I needed an import licence, which would take a week to get, and some other paperwork, but he could find a way. Just give him the money: a little over £300 to be precise, which should cover everything. Ouch. Interestingly, he got me to state on my form that I was my own agent: that should have set some alarm bells ringing. It got very clear later on that he was telling me I was giving money for bribes. Once this became very clear (and he'd kept me waiting in the car, not wanting me around), I got rather cross, and demanded the 'clearly bribe' money back, and felt, well, soiled, somewhat complicit in the whole thing. The following day (the Friday) I actually got the stuff, but was deeply unhappy with this man.

On my way to the airport on Friday Rhi called to say that the excess cases had arrived. Well, I wasn't going to use a crooked agent, I decided. I would do it myself, even if it meant going to the airport 10 times. The agent saw me and told me it was impossible: I don't have a work permit yet, etc. etc. I told him I didn't want to talk to him any more, and he disappeared. The first guy I had to go to see told me that people would ask me for money, but not to do it. He then sent someone to take me to the next office: very helpful, as were pretty much everybody I came across (I think there were about 15 different stamps to get from people). Customs officials kept on asking me "You're doing it on your own?". Well, after paying £15 in official fees, and 5 hours, I had cleared it. I didn't need the work permit, and much of the other 'difficult' paperwork the agent had told me about... just didn't exist. It had taken him around 10 hours to clear my other stuff: but then I had been his taxi, taking him other places on his other jobs, I then realised... I had been dealing with a liar, a conman.

Friday was a great day. Believe me, I can think of better ways to spend a day than queuing for the next bit of paperwork, but I saw that it is possible to do things without corruption, that most Kenyans are very helpful (also shown when we had a puncture on the way to the coast). One lady, when I finished, clapped her hands (it looked like a gesture of praise) and said "We did it!". I really had people on my side. I came home elated, and feeling much more at home here.