An expensive time-minding lesson I was compelled to learn in Europe
The other day, I was reading an article in one of these international media outlets about a 73-year old parish priest of Accra’s King Catholic Church. This priest, Father Andrew Campbell, born in Ireland, arrived in Ghana in 1971 to work as a missionary - and acquired Ghanaian citizenship.
However, among others, he refused to adapt to some local - call them ‘African’ - habits, including that of minding time.
An incident is cited whereby he started a wedding process despite the absence of the bride, who was apparently late. Half-way through the published programme, the bridal procession could be seen trying to make an entrance through the backdoor.
Father Campbell rushed down the altar leading the groom and stopped the bride in the middle of the aisle, where he conducted a hurried marriage ceremony and walked back to continue from where he had left off before the bride appeared.
Now, this might seem a bit strange. But, it is what I and many others - mostly northern Europeans - call keeping time.
This reminds me of the first time I arrived in London in the early 1980s. I was surprised to note that almost all commuters of the city buses and trains calmly reading their papers or minding their own business as they waited for their route buses or trains.
They, however, closely watched the station clock and their watches. The many buses and trains passing by stopped for half a minute and these commuters were not moved. But, at the exact minute of their scheduled bus or train, as per the published timetable, they would simply stop whatever they were doing and hop into the bus or train which had arrived... And they did this without even reading the destinations. They simply knew they were the right ones because of the timing.
I, on the other hand, would be busy reading the destinations illuminated at the front of each bus or train passing by until my right one arrived, and on schedule to the minute. As an afterthought, I realised I did not trust the precise time keeping of the transport system. Which was wrong.
Do that in Bongoland - and you will as likely as not fail to travel to your destination. Our timing is simply too flexible and elastic for that system.
One particular incident of our Bongoland’s elastic time-keeping comes to mind - and it cost me and a colleague several dollars.
It was in the early 1990s when I and the colleague were commuting by train from Brussels in Belgium to Frankfurt in Germany to catch our Ethiopian Airlines flight back to Bongoland.
We arrived at the Central Railway Station in Brussels and settled on the benches on our designated platform, enjoying our Stellar Artois beers, as we waited for our train which would ferry us straight to the Frankfurt International Airport.
Less than a minute to the arrival of our airport train, my colleague said he had to go and answer a call of nature in the washrooms below the platform. I argued, in futility, against the move, saying our scheduled train would arrive in a few seconds and would stop for only half a minute before departing. And after all there are several washrooms inside the train itself.
He was adamant and left to attend to his call of nature. Needless to say the train arrived on time and I was in a sweaty dilemma. Either leave my friend and his luggage behind on the platform or abort the whole mission - and face the consequences.
As the train hooted away, my colleague arrived huffing and puffing but late by about three seconds!
I was furious. And we ended up spending two more days in Europe - now in Frankfurt itself - before we could catch our next Ethiopian Airlines flight home.
Indeed, this was a costly and unbudgeted-for expense. And it was an expensive time-keeping lesson. To this date, I am a time-conscious fanatic. I learnt it the hard way. I hope other Bongolanders learn the same.
