The sound of the waves wakes me up. I draw the curtains, and see white sand, palm trees and lizards. Looks like the beach in the TV series Lost. Unfortunately, no time for a swim. Back to Libreville airport, the taxi driver accompanies me until the AfricAviation counter to help booking my flight ticket for Franceville. There is no online reservation system for domestic flights in Gabon. “No more seat available for today’s flight, Madam, we are full […] At the best, I can add you to the waiting list. Come back in 2 hours.” says the woman. Anyway, I first need to withdraw money to buy any ticket. None of the official exchange money counters accepts my Japanese yen. They only buy euros and USD. I try to exchange money on the black market, same. Alright, let’s withdraw money to the only working ATM of Libreville airport... Not working anymore! Argh.
I grab my 2 big bags and walk along the sunny-dusty road to the nearest bank. The bank ATM only accepts Visa credit cards. No luck, I have a MasterCard. I take a break, and go back to the airport, try another hidden ATM, which aspires my card for 10 long minutes before saying that I can’t withdraw money. In front of yesterday’s night working ATM, few persons gather trying to help. There is an emergency contact number on the ATM, but the security guard says it might take days before an operator comes and fix it. Welcome back to Africa. No money, no cellphone, not even a phone number, no Internet. I pause and think. Hmm, there is necessarily an ATM accepting MasterCards and working in the capital of Gabon! I spot some white skin at the AfricAviation counter, and ask if they know, where in Libreville can I withdraw money with a MasterCard. They aren’t sure. One says he would have lent me money if only the ticket price was not that expensive... (150 000 CFA = 230 euros). I go back to the ATM, drop my bags and stand, looking around. The passengers for the last flight Libreville – Franceville of the day are passing the customs. A sturdy man near to me, who followed my problems between two phone calls is now pronouncing these words in French: “I will lend you money. How much do you need? Is 300 000 CFA okay (450 euros)?” S-A-V-E-D. He signs a check, makes a phone call, we wait ten minutes, and he receives the 300 000 CFA cash that he gives to me apart. I want to show him my passport, give him my contact card at least. He just says: “I trust you. Once, I was in the same situation in Douala [Cameroon] and a businessman helped me. I reimbursed him later and invited him for dinner at the end of my stay.” I thank him and run to the AfricAviation counter. I wait that all passengers passed to the waiting room and then a man makes a sign that I can go. I pay my flight ticket (150 000 instead of the 200 000 if you are on the waiting list) and join other passengers. The small plane is filled with businessman, businesswoman and light skin. I can count at least 10 empty seats around me and I don’t believe that 10 persons have missed the delayed flight today… Seating next to me, the director of Fonds Forestier National, a program that aims to dynamize the wood industry in Gabon. He is making campaign for the 2016 presidential elections. We discuss all flight long about Gabon, its resources, biodiversity, and national parks. Arrival at Mvengue, Franceville airport: all passengers have apparently a colleague or a driver waiting for them. There is only one room, the one where you collect your luggage. No control, nothing, and no transport as well. All have already reserved their 4x4. The director of FFN asks me if somebody is coming to pick me up. “No…” He offers the service of his driver, to drive me to the CIRMF. In all this mess, I am lucky. Thirty minutes later, we pass the CIRMF gate. When I told him, that my host is Dr. Barthelemy Ngoubangoye, he says that he is his little brother (- I learn later that little sister and little brother can be extended to the very extended family!). The 4x4 arrives at the Centre de Primatologie (CDP). It is 4 pm and I can recognize Barthelemy, standing with other people in front of the CDP. I jump out of the vehicle: “Hello! I apologize for not being able to contact you, it’s a long story… but it’s me, Cecile.” Barthelemy says he was almost going to call my university because of the lack of news. At the end, I am relieved and it would be fair to add 3 men to the list of 3 that helped me making my way till the CIRMF (see Gabon 0.0): the station manager of South African Airways, the man who lent me money at Libreville airport, and the director of FFN.
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