While the specifics of the actual trip may fascinate few, what interested me (of course I am writing against the criteria of considering the audience) was the lack of lines. When boarding the plane taking myself and 55 other volunteers to Cotonou, Benin, there was no line, just a mass of people. All of the passengers were hedging slowly toward the gate, trying to not bump into the person next to him, while inevitably doing so. Despite the chaos, and the obvious possibility of a verbal argument, everyone shuffled along without much complaint, and without the stares one gets while riding the metro in Washington, D.C.
When arriving to Cotonou, we (the volunteers) were faced with the logistical nightmare of getting our luggage, amidst a sea of people and luggage carts. Normally I try to hang back in large crowds in instances such as these, where pushing and shoving might stir some souls into rage. But I could not practice such pacification in Cotonou. No we were herded in all together into a frenzy of Beninese men working to get luggage off the baggage claim belt efficiently. The potential for losing a toe was not far off, when the men forcing themselves through the sea of Peace Corps volunteer, looking perhaps out of the place, and at the very least haggard.
I am not sure how long we were at baggage claim, in a room comparable to an elementary school gymnasium. My guess is perhaps a couple hours. I tried to ignore, what I sense will be a common deduction. And my conclusion is this: There has to be a better, more logical way? I wonder in all the secondary projects, why has no one thought to introduce the concept of the line? Perhaps, forming a line is a strictly American concept, engrained into our heads from the time we are in Pre-Kindergarten and have to follow the tape line down the right or left side of the hallway—I remember following them even when no one was around.
