Minnesota, you are pure delight! All I can say is Earth,
water, air and fire... I could never have anticipated the healing you'd restore
to my weary bones, nor the energy you'd infuse for later use.
I wasn't nearly sold on you and guess what - you've won me
over! I knew we had valuable relationships hibernating, waiting to be ignited,
but my expectations were obliterated, completely blown away...
In a Latin American school both Liz and I had taught in
years ago, there existed a strong affiliation between the school and a
Minnesotan University. The institution we worked at regularly welcomed students
of this university, with some of their tertiary students also completing
on-the-job-training and being hired by our organisation after graduation.
As I look back on those days, I recognise that many of these
uni-students (college kids) lacked maturity. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for
keeping it cool, having fun, making noise, and generally being extremely
naughty (I'm actually renowned for it) - but that's not what I'm talking about.
The uni-students and new teacher recruits seemed to be
missing something. I'm referring to the lack of general knowledge about the
World, social faux pas, a lack of common sense, taking themselves
waaaaaaaaaaaaay too seriously, etc. In short, some of my colleagues nicknamed
these uni-students "Minnesodumbs."
Yikes! A bit rude, even for this no-nonsense Aussie. I never
referred to them in this manner, but in terms of these young folk, I could kind
of see why they were dubbed in this way (so sorry Minnesotans, please keep
reading! I was wrong, SO very wrong...).
"Good morning ladies and gents, it's time to put this
Big Bird down", chimed in the chirpy pilot. Yuppo, have to confess, still
reeling about the lack of "professionalism" served up by American
airline carriers, but promise I won't go on about it too much more.
It's the airports' turn now. I'm going to have-a-go at
America's finest airports, who in this period of mass-privatisation are
"blessed" with increased passenger numbers, more imposed efficiencies
(only ever cost cutting. Just chat with airport workers, they'll set you free
with the truth), and lots of hoops for passengers to jump through. "Sit.
Heel. Roll over. Beg!" Next time you're in an American airport, just
sit back and watch - it's like being at Sydney's Royal Easter Show watching the
dog trials in the main stadium.
Chicago's O'Hare was an aviation disappointment to Jeddo.
However, Minnesota's terminal left me aeronautically despairing. Who do we
blame? Washington (notice I'm posting this blog AFTER our trip to the
Capital?).
After September 11, the American government sought to
carefully continue on its plan of civil aviation deregulation. In the West,
(Australia and GB are no exception) we strive to make sure the
free-market-model works, even if we have to bleed billions of dollars propping
up failing business entities who have unfairly suffered at the hand of unions,
terrorism (sorry, I know some people think unions and terrorism are the same
thing), technological advancement, economic downturns, increased fuel costs,
unfair innovative competition, leftist governments, fluorescent clothing,
difficult crossword puzzles, pink backward-flying pigs and dandruff. What can I
say - life presents challenges.
Long story short, Delta Airlines bought out Minnesota's
Northwest Airlines. Thousands of jobs were moved from Minneapolis to Atlanta,
consequentially damaging the Twin City's economy. The airport terminal we
arrived in seemingly reflected this tearing away to the South.
"Oh dear", I lamented. "It's a sad thing for
the north region, but airline consolidation in the USA is long overdue."
You get what you pay for I guess. Airline tickets in the World's biggest
economy haven't risen in many years, and that's why you sit with your knees
tucked up your nose, and purchase styrofoam flavoured food from tired,
overworked flight attendants - but I'm back onboard the aircraft again!!! So
sorry, I'll just disembark this emergency landed blogliner - Oh dear, the
ding-dang-blogcraft door won't release! Due to efficiencies it wasn't possible
to have it serviced I guess...
Oh well, you'll have to ride through the memoir turbulence
I'm currently experiencing. I have fond memories of Northwest Airlines, they
were the airline that carried my brother and I from Sydney to Indianapolis when
we attended Bill Gothard's training camp in the old Stouffer's Hotel on
Meridian Street.
I was a lad of only 16 years. Upon completion of "child
in crisis" training, I returned to Australia just prior to my brother, and
I have to say Northwest Airlines were amazing.
I didn't officially travel as an unaccompanied minor, but
you know how it is with old fashioned airline service, children used to be
treated with compassion and charity. And as it turned out, I was treated like a
king - thank you Northwest, thank you Viking people of the north.
And so back to Minneapolis I returned - as a man. The
passenger terminal hadn't changed a bit - literally I think. The decor was
tired and shabby. "Oh no," I contemplated. "Minnesota's not
looking too flash."
But, conversely, waiting at our baggage carousel was the
exceedingly delightful looking Dom-Dom and her new Peruvian handsome husbo,
Walther. Dominique is a favourite of the Brien family. During our time in
Guadalajara, Mexico, we spent many a morning, noon and night with this
delectant of a lady.
I have to hover over this meeting for a sec. Why? Well, to
tell you of a Cindarella-esque transformation. Dom's Dad isn't dead and she
doesn't have a wicked step-mumma, actually quite the opposite. Dom's Dad spends
every day saving lives as a community respected doctor and her Mum IS a heart
of Christ - warmth? Nope, she's HOT! (stay with me) You know, she's just one of
those people who simply looks at you with and through a lens of love.
It's no wonder Dom turned out the way she did. She's blessed
with her father's compassion for humanity, and has had Christ sewn through her
since birth, by an attentive, Kingdom-conscious mother.
However, way back in Guadalajara, Dom was a recent graduate
and we joined her for the second year of her teaching career. I liked the girl
straight away. She was nothing of the naive girls I mentioned we worked with.
She was constantly scaffolding information about the world around her, in that
mighty mental machine she was blessed with.
She was poor like us. Having just left university she was
starting from scratch. She had a laptop, change for the bus and a great
attitude. We built many fun memories in the staff room, our lounge room, her
classroom and any other room we used as a make-shift party habitation.
I say "habitation", because we were EXTREMELY into
fancy-dress parties (Liz and I always have been) - decoration was key to a
night out-in. To be honest, our parties kept us laughing, released some of the
teacher-tension we experienced daily, and helped us to dream of bigger things
than the solitude of our cupboard sized classrooms would allow.
But Dom was poor. She wore clothes from her university days,
still looking like phase-one adult, not really having figured out the image she
would "present" to the world.
Well, the woman we now saw before us had truly been through
her cocoon phase. In Minneapolis's baggage hall stood before us an educated,
knowing, sophisticated, professional woman. Liz and I were both taken aback. We
hugged and laughed and chatted dim wittingly. I practiced my rusty, barrio
Spanish on Walther as we clip-clopped our way from the terminal to Dom's car.
We drove out onto the freeway and I began to feel hope for
Minnesota. "It's kind of pretty" thoughts zipped through my cranium.
We then turned off into parts of the Minnesotan city and suburbs and I began to
feel fondly for the state. Minnesota's GORGEOUS!
As we traversed across the broad state, my love for
Minnesota continued to grow. From deer in the paddocks, to endless dazzling
lakes and rolling hills, Minnesota is simply sumptuous.
We arrived at Dom's lakefront home and stood with jaws
gaping. Dom's family were all there to greet us and were equally as beautiful
as Dom, her parents, their home, the lake, and everything else that filled our
senses.
Over the next few days we became busy trying to relax. The
food was scrumptious, we learnt how to drive a jetski, we rode aboard a tyre
behind a boat, and chatted around the fire of an evening.
We played cards and laughed until we cried. We also cried.
It was an emotional time for Dom's family. It seemed as though their nest was
previously full-as-a-goog and in a matter of just minutes everyone was marrying
and moving abroad. Emotions ran high. Thankfully, so did the a/c, providing
thousands of places to both hide and seek.
In all, I thank God for people like Dom's family. They make
love look easy, selflessly throwing themselves at those in need around them.
Liz and I had come to the US to share with Churches about
our mission for the cause of the Gospel, in Nicaragua, but didn't have
appropriate clothing so as to be culturally attuned.
I needed suits and Liz needed clothes with zips, buttons,
bells and whistles. Our kids needed clothes that fitted, didn't have holes, nor
stains, and that looked a cut above going-out-for-tacos.
We didn't have money to purchase "presentation"
clothing and had planned to use some of our "gift" money for a
start-up wardrobe (Sunday best).
In short Dom's brother (a chap getting married), his sister
and mother, all donated clothes to us (2 suits and a pair of slacks for me and
2 suitcases of clothes for Elizabeth and the kids).
Liz and I drove to our first Church appointment in Dom's
Mum's car (which she'd filled with petrol for us, and left the petrol (gas)
card for us to use), dressed for success. I felt like a presidential candidate
and Liz like a royal as we arrived at the home of our first Church's pastor.
Wendy came out of her lakefront home, which we'd driven for
3 hours to get to. I froze. Liz jumped out of the car confidently and sauntered
over to Wendy, still in royal mode - clearly forgetting that we were actually
only commoners.
I awkwardly got out, fumbling the car keys from the ignition
and onto the floor, back into my hands and onto the ground, stretching my
fingers out to pick them up and then stepping onto my hand with my very own
foot.
With guest speaker-like dignity I lifted my head quickly,
trying to regain composure, and whilst attempting to stand swiftly bumped my
head against the roof of the car.
I walked dizzily over to Wendy, feeling like I'd just
competed in a Mexican luche match, and probably looking like I was guilty of
drink-driving, and attempted to greet her with a kiss (not quite there, in any
sense).
It was weird, but good. We were finally there. The end of
beginning had arrived. Time for the show to go on. Excited to the max we
entered Wendy's home.
This woman was sent to us from the God of Heaven. I had
initially written to Wendy from out-of-the-blue. She was not a contact via a
network. She wasn't expecting my e-mail. I had written to her in the hope that
she would allow us to share our lives with her and her Church family.
I believed from the outset that Wendy, her Church, and
Capital on the Edge would be mutually significant. I felt kindred. I felt at
home. I was now in her home.
We're in the USA for a couple of months sharing light (the
message is Jesus, evangelism and discipleship), Nicaragua (trying to raise
funds to continue our work) and our family (we're going here, there and
everywhere).
If you are an Australian and would like to support us
through the Australian Christian Churches - International Missions (Australian
arm of the Assemblies of God), please visit our facebook page, Capital on the
Edge, click on "files" at the top of the page, and then download
"Field
Worker Support Pledge form.pdf", fill it in and send it back to them.
If you are an American and would like to support us through
the Assembly of God Church (for a tax receipt), write a cheque (check) in the
name of "Zimmerman Community Church" and send your cheque (check) to:
Zimmerman Community Church
12567 5th Avenue
Zimmerman, MN, 55398
- On the memo line of your cheque (check) you should write:
Capital on the Edge
- At the end of the tax year, Zimmerman Community Church
will send you a tax-deductible receipt
- Please e-mail us (CapitalontheEdge@gmail.com) so that we
can notify Zimmerman Community Church that we are expecting to receive a
donation.
If you are a Church and would like to consider having us
come and share about what we are doing in Nicaragua, please e-mail us: CapitalontheEdge@gmail.com
Thanks for reading Part 4 of Planes, Trains and Automobiles,
Jeddoxoxoxo
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