Touchdown in Mamoudzou

Austria, Germany, and America headed to Mayotte at the beginning of March for a week of sunny exploration in a forgotten corner of the earth. We spent our days combing the reefs of the Mozambique Canal and swimming with sea turtles in the Indian Ocean. A colorful place, rich with nature, filled with human complexity, as removed from the rest of the world as I have ever felt.

Customs officials really like Germanic blonds, they also consider American passports the collectors editions of border control, so the three of us were able to do pretty much whatever we wanted once we touched down. This included but was not limited to bringing another person's baby into the country. Susanne and I sat next to an overwhelmed mother on the plane who promptly handed off little Abdi here as soon as the seatbelt light turned off. "I'll meet you in the taxi area," she said, as she raced off to hit baggage claim. Susi was goo-goo-ing and ga-ga-ing with the little guy while I promptly began to panic about going to jail for smuggling small children.

My fear was unfounded. The border police were so blinded by Susi's blondness, they didn't even see the baby. And then my passport caused a back up of 10 minutes because everyone in the office needed to come and see, hold, pat, and caress a piece of paper with an American eagle on it. The biggest relief was that Abdi's mother was in fact waiting at the taxi stand when we exited the airport and my half hour as a panicked father (I was playing the role of the logistical stern-faced one), ended.

Because of a mix-up, Austria had arrived a day ahead of Germany and I. At the precise moment where Susi and my parenthood ended, Sophie, our welcoming committee, arrived with customary chains of jasmine that were placed in our hair. It was nice having such a seasoned guide since figuring out the airport is a project. Mayotte is composed of two islands: Petite-Terre, where the airport is located, and the main island, Grande-Terre where most of the population lives. In absolute torrential rain, we managed to crowd into an over crowded taxi, cross Petite Terre, huddle with the masses under a small awning, and board the barge that took us to the heart of the capital, Mamoudzou.