The Outsider(S) by Caroline Adhiambo Jakob Page B

answer. My kind of answer would be truthful. It would be something in the direction of “I would like to run away from my current life.” But I don’t say this. I search for the kind of answer Irmtraut would give.
    “Because Lufthansa is the best airline in Germany.”
    She smiles, and I can’t tell if that is a good or a bad thing. I just know that I don’t feel good giving such an answer. It sounds contrived.
    “How old are you?” she asks patiently. I hand her the folder containing my CV. It’s a CV I prepared seventeen years ago. Nothing much has changed in my life since then. Only, I now have four children, four boys. I thought of including that in the CV but decided against it. A CV is a professional document, and raising children just doesn’t fit in. And the other thing is that I have been planning to open an Öko shop. I would have actually opened it already were it not for Renate stealing my business idea and potential customers.
    “So you are thirty-nine?” she asks while removing a strand of hair from her face. I note that her nails are perfectly manicured. In contrast, I have almost chewed all my nails off.
    “Yes,” I answer timidly even though I hoped to come across as self-assured.
    “Most of our in-flight attendants actually join us just after Abitur ,” 38 she says softly while watching me for a reaction. It is the kind of way one watches someone who is mentally unstable. Someone who might run off and commit suicide if you say the wrong word.

Irmtraut
    Kenya, 2010, My Arrival
    I heard the applause before I realized what was happening. I froze and held the iPad I was carrying tightly to my chest. I didn’t have the courage to open my eyes. “I am praying for you!” The familiar voice of the plump woman reverberated in the cabin. I opened my eyes slowly. It was exactly six forty-five a.m. Kenyan time, and we had landed at the Jomo Kenyatta International Airport in Nairobi. My first landing in Africa had been so smooth that I didn’t even notice it. Ever since we left Amsterdam, I had been expecting something to go wrong. I had spent every moment listening for strange sounds or anything to confirm my fears. The rest of the time I spent cramming the security instructions. I was convinced that we were not going to be lucky twice. Takeoff had worked out fine. There was no way landing was going to be OK. I had all along expected something along the lines of “Ladies and gentlemen, we can’t locate the airport. We will let you know when or if we locate it!” I expected that we would then fly around aimlessly and eventually crash because of lack of fuel. I broke into a smile.
    The deep voice of the pilot bellowed through the loudspeaker. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for choosing to fly Kenya Airways. On behalf of the crew, I would like to wish you a lovely stay in Kenya.” The tall, slender lady was already standing in the aisle. She couldn’t stay a minute longer in the plane, and I didn’t blame her. There are only so many Bibles that one can accept. There was commotion of passengers getting up and retrieving their luggage from the overhead cabins but the cabin door stayed closed. I looked up and saw the tall slender woman staring at me. There was something gentle about her eyes, and sad. Our eyes met and she smiled wryly.
    Within no time we were out of the plane and on our way to pick up our luggage. I was nervous. I had pretty much packed all my clothes and shoes in the two suitcases. I wondered whether they would arrive in time. I tried to put out of my mind what Nadia had said in a self-possessed voice: “Most luggage in African airports gets lost.” Then she had added, “But that will not happen to you. They only take expensive stuff.” The dig wasn’t lost on me. But I couldn’t do anything. Everyone had watched and listened a few moments earlier when I had gifted her with hair color for her “few gray hairs.”
    I turned on my BlackBerry and saw that I as usual had a