Togo > Does the Djembe fit or not?

Around midnight, we are picked up at the hotel. I place the luggage in the bus for the last time, including the Djembe. I wonder if I can check it in as hand luggage. In about half an hour, we arrive at the airport, where we say goodbye to the crew. All four of them came along to see us off. At the first baggage check, someone asks for a form for the Djembe. I have one, but the fellow travelers with a Djembe do not. It seems like money might be requested here. We pick up the Djembes and just walk through. This turns out to be a good choice. I check in my main luggage, show my Djembe as hand luggage, and for now, everything goes smoothly. At the second hand luggage check, money is asked for more directly: "Un Souvenir de l'argent?" I politely refuse and kindly take my passport back from the customs officer. Behind me, he tries again.

Togo - A Somba family in their yard

Corruption proves to be a strange affair. After the third check, it’s time to board. When I get on the plane and open the overhead compartment, the Djembe doesn’t fit. Either the Djembe is too big or the compartment too small. I look at the steward, and he suggests placing the Djembe in the back row. Shortly after, the plane takes off for a stopover in Cotonou. It is deep in the night. In Cotonou, new passengers board, and the back row is used, with the Djembes in the way. They indicate the instruments must go in the cargo hold. If that really isn’t possible, they can be stored in a separate cabinet near the galley. Fortunately, that works. I try to get some sleep. In Casablanca, we wait for the connecting flight to Brussels. I try to board as early as possible and am the second person up the stairs. I go to the back and ask the steward to help me with the instrument. It’s the same type of plane, and I point out the cabinet in the galley. He tries to fit my Djembe in the cabinet, but the head stewardess objects. The Djembes must go in the hold. We take the instruments back to the exit, and on the stairs they are given a baggage tag. It is not entirely clear to me where I will see it again. The stewardess refers to the baggage claim but also says she will try to intercept it. "Don't worry, don't worry," she keeps saying, seeing from my face that I am worried. I hope for the best and sit down. During the flight, I manage to get just about an hour of sleep. At 4:45 a.m., almost an hour late, we arrive at Brussels Airport. To my great relief, the Djembe is waiting neatly at the jet bridge. The rest of the luggage quickly appears on the belt. I say goodbye to the fellow travelers and head to the train station. On the next train, I ride to Brussels Central and transfer, with all the luggage, to the international train to Amsterdam. After a few transfers, I arrive at Voorhout station a little after nine in the evening.