Day 682...

It's a long time since 11th December 2009. But still there's no final resolution to the saga. If we've not been updating about it recently, it's not because it's all over, just because nothing much happens and it's not really worth updating anything just to say, "well, we're told it's all going to be over by the end of the month..." yet again. But finally there is a new chapter to report on - no final resolution, mind, but a new set of tales about deniable meetings and shady encounters in airport lounges...

Whilst on the beach last Thursday I got a call from the lawyer's agent in Dar saying I needed to come to Dar on Monday morning at 8am to finalise things. Right, methinks, here we go again... What, exactly, was I going to be required to do? Well, turn up at immigration and meet some people who'd ask me about my statements on the matter and, possibly, then do something else he couldn't tell me about on the phone. I just needed to be there and it would all be resolved. Ah, I thought, so I'll need to bring all the passports then? Hmmm, well, they might be needed. Oh, so not definitely 'stamp in the passport' type resolved then? Right...

Still, after some last minute booking on Saturday I did indeed get myself to Dar on Sunday evening, via a brief trip to Zanzibar, and was happily put up by friends for the night. Early the next morning I headed off to find the shiny new immigration offices, prepared for a long wait. Ariving (on time!) at 8am, I then waited 45mins whilst the lawyer's agent arrived to meet me and after a brief explanation that I was to first meet a really rather high up official in the immigration department (actually, the one who'd originally signed by 'intention to deport' letter) and, if he thought I was genuine, he'd arrange a meeting with someone who really can fix it all up. Right. So we sat there for another 45 minutes before he arrived (though the class of seats inside the new building are much better than the hard wooden benches I've sat upon up to now), and we then had a 20minute chat about things, interrupted about 3 times by various things, before he decided I was fine to pass on to the shadowy Mr L. So he made a call, passed on my number, gave me his number and we concocted a story about how he had come to know about my situation and how the various people were involved without there being any significant paper trail.

Anyway, Mr L promised to call, and we went outside to wait with tea whislt it was explained to me that, as things stand, there are only really two options for a final resolution now - either I get deported, or the guy at the immigration office in Arusha who caused all the trouble initially gets the boot. And the mysterious Mr L, as a senior field agent for National Security, is just the man to do the latter job, if he, too, was convinced that I'm an honest guy... So we waited, and there was no call. So I called, and spoke briefly "I'll call you in 10mins" was the message. 30mins later I called again - "Ah, change of plan, I'm on my way to the airport. Where are you?" After a bit of discussion on a bad line, we decided the best option would be to race him to the airport and fix things up there before he carried on to his next engagement. Fast taxi already on standby, we zoomed around, making the airport at 11am, preciely as arranged. No-one there. We called again, and said we'd wait in a cafe. 11.15. Call again - yes, 3ks away, be there soon. 11.30 Call again - I'm coming... 11.40, ah ha! Here he is, excellent. And so we went through the events of the fatful day again in the airport lounge, Mr L taking notes and asking questions once more. Eventually, we copied a pile of the vairous letters from various people - from University of Aberdeen to the Tanzania Wildlife Research Institute and a whole host of others, shook hands, and said goodbye. But not before being told I should get some valid stamp in my passport.

So, we called immigration again, explained how things had gone and were told we couldn't get another extension this time, we'd have to do it another way. Suggestion being either to take a brief trip to Kenya ('just pay a little something on the way out and you'll be fine'), or to find someone to take our passports there on our behalf so it at least looks like we've been there ('just give them a little something...'). And so we have it! The lawyers assure me it all went perfectly according to the song sheet and that this is the man who will solve the problem. But we'll wait and see...

Meanwhile Mama and Grandfather have now left on their grand climb, making it safely to the first hut today, jsut before a huge thunderstorm struck, apparently. Yellow-crowned Canaries and Eastern Double-collared Sunbirds the avian highlights so far - tomorrow their mission it to find out if there are still Scarlet-tufted Malachite Sunbirds up there...