POST by JED: California Dreamin (Part 2)

Flying from Managua to Miami (they boys went doo-lally with the camera)

And up jumped Eliezer. He had a wild grin from ear to ear. “Where are you going? Sit DOWN!” I implored. “The seatbelt sign, THE SEATBELT SIGN!” The boys had a lot to learn and over the next few days would be bombarded with more than they could handle.

Every item in the seatback pocket was rifled through. I giggled to myself as I noticed Rene seriously “reading” the “American Way” magazine, upside down. He was trying desperately to fit in and make a good impression. Lorenzy stared out the window. She had flown more in her lifetime, than I can recall – yet this flight was completely different. It represented BIGGER things for Lorenzy. It was kind of a one-way journey to who knows where.

Lorenzy has been changing so much over the last year. Physically, she is woman. She’s the tallest feline in our household, and is developing her own distinct sense of self. I love watching Renz – she doesn’t conform, yet isn’t rebellious. She cares deeply and then not at all. She follows, but isn’t a sheep.

This year Lorenzy will be on tour with our family and the Nicavangelists. When we’re not on the road with our Nicaraguan lads she’ll be visiting Liz’s brother, Luke (and his family), in Rochester (NY) and one of Renzy’s oldest/dearest friends in the World, Mhari Reid, in Viriginia (some place).

Yordy and Fran chatted and made jokes. Fran is ever-the-brother in this group. She’s always prepared to take a knock, or playfully make fun of the boys.

The flight attendants made their way through the cabin serving drinks. Theresa and Mary had been flying now for 24 years. Their kids had all grown up and they were enjoying all that life had to offer. No bars held. Today they each wore wigs. One was a blonde, the other a brunette. They had their inside jokes, pretend voices, naughty under-the-breath comments, everything that used to be me back at Qantas (the Spirit of Australia).

The flighties (Aussie airline speak for “flight attendant”) didn’t speak a lick of Spanish. However, the boys can understand nearly EVERYTHING in English, because ever since they were little tikes they have been bombarded with English through various forms of media (music, television, etc.). Yet still, they cannot speak English – OR choose not to, I’m undecided which.

“A drink today sir?” the cheeky flighty asked. A smile formed in the corner of Fran’s mouth.  Yordy looked at her and screwed up his nose (Nica-speak for “what?”). She looked at him and then crossed her eyes, in an attempt to make him laugh (her expression kind of sang “difficult choice but just jump in: coke, sprite, water, oj, what?”).

Fran laughed, but Yordy didn’t find it funny. He just continued staring, with his BIG Latino eyes, into a face warmly loving him. Fran’s laughter subsided and she offered him a drink. He took it, as all the boys did. They were not going to miss a beat on this trip.

On our decent into Miami the plane experienced some of the worst turbulence I’ve ever endured. The boys’ reactions varied. Rene laughed nervously. Yordy looked at me and shrugged his shoulders. Eliezer looked like he was going to cry. Jonny put his earphones in and stared out the window. Stivey started rabbiting on, a hundred words per minute. The plane bounced along the runway and there was more jubilation than at the Pope’s Inauguration. We hadn’t died after all!

We exited the aircraft and took a moment to kiss the earth, change our underwear, thank the Lord, etc. I had the boys gather around and we had ourselves a meeting.

This was to be our VERY LAST and most important reunion, to discuss the people who may or may not allow us into the USA. I told the boys that jokes were absolutely prohibited. Do not wear your cap into the hall, and especially don’t put it on when talking with the immigration official. Look people in the eyes, it’s a sign of respect and shows you’re not lying. Do not fidget. Do not lie (we had nothing to lie about). Speak in a clear tone of voice and remember who it is you’re serving. Follow all instructions and everything will be okay (I said, not really knowing for certain myself…).

We walked nervously into the immigration hall. I looked at a sign which conveyed the message that, due to budget cuts, wait times would be longer than usual. They weren’t lying. I was exhausted and wanted to crawl up into a ball and sleep – but I’m the leader and had to set a good example.

The line snake and snaked like a horrendous amphibian scene out of an Indiana Jones movie. The officials let everyone with connections through first, and then US/Canadian residents and passport holders. Finally, we were moved somewhere closer to the front, and then an immigration officer came up to me and said “YOU!” A lump formed in my throat “Yes?” I said, like a little mouse waiting to be eaten by the great BIG American python. “Please join that queue.”

My meekness nearly evolved into a type of tired rage I cannot define, as I looked at the length of the queue we were to be joining. It was MUCH longer…

After nearly two hours, we made it to the front of the line. I explained in gibberish (due to my exhaustion) to the head line-person that we were a group, travelling with minors, and we needed to go through with 3 of the 8 boys, so that we could explain the paperwork which I held for them. As if to completely ignore me, he had us spread out across 4 lines. I put up a small protest, knowing it was to be in vain. And it was…

We finally made it to the front of the very last line we’d been standing in – the immigration chap was friendly, the friendliest I’ve ever come across. I explained the details and he said it didn’t matter which line any of our people went through.

He asked to see all of my family members and requested that the other people from our party wait behind the yellow line. I went first, scanning my fingers and face and then let Lizzie take over. I zipped back to our Nica fellas and had them all move into our queue.

I asked Yordy to come forward first. Yordy isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but is fairly intuitive. My assumption was that he would tell the truth, but not carry on too much about it. He wouldn’t smile, but would be softly spoken and come across as being polite and respectful.

Yordy stood beside me and I noticed a slight change in the immigration officer’s demeanor. His Spanish wasn’t as good as mine, but he used it anyway, and with quite some force. I understand that it’s all rather psychological, and only really a game (the guy is a good guy – probably has a family and goes to Church too…), but Yordy didn’t understand, and I think he took offence. This was a good thing, because Yordy’s answers went from being 3 or 5 words long, to 1 word.

Immigration Officer:      Where are you going?

Yordy:                          California

Immigration Officer:      Why?

Yordy:                          Jesus

Well, you couldn’t argue with that. One by one they filtered through. We were in! Excited and then a little nervous. My next concern - one might run for their lives. We have really worked with the boys to make sure their attitudes are all squared away and that they are coming with us on tour to California for the love of Jesus, not for personal gain. But you can never be sure – it’s a part of our journey in faith. Trusting and believing.

As we had spent all of our money on everything to do with the trip, in terms of planning and paying for the itinerary, we arrived in Miami with just $40 cash and no spare money anywhere (credit cards, etc.) – NONE!

Our kids were starving, as were our Nica-Youths. I had told the boys that we would not be eating until midnight. It was 2pm. I realised my belly was rumbling as well. Liz pulled out the cash, which had been reserved for emergencies, and counted each bill. $40 exactly. We went to Burger King and checked out their prices. AIRPORT ROBERY! $7 - $8 per meal. There were 15 of us!

We scoured here and there, leaving all of our kids (Nicas and Briens) sitting in an eatery. We came across a Subway and asked if they could tell us their cheapest price. We could get a foot-long sandwich for a little over $5. We ordered 7. The boys didn’t like their halved sandwiches but ate them anyway. We wanted more but now were completely bankrupt. We moved through security for our next flight.

Waiting in Miami for our AA Flight to Los Angeles

 

 Our American Airlines flight from Miami to Los Angeles, aboard a Boeing 767, was a tad-more luxurious. We were given blankets and the seats were just a little comfier. I sat next to Eliezer who stared out the window from the moment he sat down, until the moment he got up again.

Jonny and Beycker had decided to “sit somewhere else.” It was hilarious to me, when the people arrived who were meant to occupy the seats they had sat in. They slunk, sheepishly back down the plane and took their places besides the ever-grinning Raffy & Sezzy.

I slept from just after take-off until our arrival in LAX. We got off the plane and crawled our way to the baggage belt. We counted all the bags and then left them in a heap. I took half of the crew to check-out the Qantas A380 double story aircraft, which was parked at the same terminal we’d arrived in. The boys couldn’t believe the size of this monster aircraft, the largest civil aviaition aircraft in the world. 

Going to check-out the Qantas A380 in LAX

I then retreated to the baggage area and collected the other half of our crew for the same show. 

Waiting for our Ride in LAX

Sitting on the ground, waiting for our ride, caused my heavy eyelids to close once again. We’d now been in transit with American Airlines for 14 hours and I hadn’t slept a wink, hadn’t even laid down, the night before.

Napping at LAX

I explained to the boys, whilst half asleep, that this would just be the halfway point of a trip if we were heading home to Australia. We’d now be boarding another aircraft for an additional 14 hour flight. They looked at me curiously, as if I just make these facts up (or possibly thinking, “so what?” I couldn’t tell which…).

Lorenzy & Ericson, waiting at LAX

I napped for a short while longer and then my brain sort of stabbed my heart – strangest feeling, I cannot describe it. Sort of like a pang of sudden fret. I jumped to my feet and noticed that Anna was on her mobile phone. “Anna, can I call someone from your phone?” I asked. Her face told the story, like “is that a trick question?” I realised in that moment the stupidity of my words and reached for my laptop.

I looked up details for the Church we were to visit, but realised I had somehow managed to erase Greeyvin’s phone number (Spanish Pastor) with a second copy of Vista Assembly’s office phone number. I gave it a ring anyway, but alas, the office was “closed.”

I had Anna try to connect her phone to the internet, as my laptop refused. She pressed this button and that, but nothing, ABSOLUTELY nothing… My technical skills are about as advanced as a primate’s. But low-and-behold, I looked down at my laptop, AND LAX was staring straight back up at me. I logged into good ol’ g-mail and accessed the e-mails received from my incredible friend, Pastor Greeyvin.

He answered the phone and I started to march for the outside world (which really doesn’t make sense at LAX, because of all the traffic – yet, we sometimes move via instincts, don’t we?). As I was pulling just about the MOST ridiculous face possible, trying to decipher his informative words, I saw my friend mouthing what was being spoken through the receiver in my hand. Funny thing, I always have to say, “Goodby Pastor Greeyvin!” and without a pause “G’day Pastor Greeyvin!!!”

Now I have to say, this man is a LEGEND. I didn’t know it at the time, but his love for our troupe and indeed for us too, was simply phenomenal.

We had needed to wait until our boys’ visas were approved, in order to buy our flights. Of course, the plane tickets had risen in price, making it impossible for us to fly directly into Sacramento on the day we had selected. We therefore elected to fly into Los Angeles a few days earlier than anticipated.

I wrote to hundreds of Churches within 100 miles of LAX, requesting assistance for our evangelistic outreach tour. Against all odds, I received an e-mail from Pastor Greeyvin.

This gracious man, whose AG Church is located in Vista, California, just outside of San Diego, had written to me with enthusiasm about our impending trip. We were most concerned about filling the last week of our stay in LAX, but the dates on his end wouldn’t reconcile. We hence talked about coming at the start of our trip, and although the whole shemozzle was thrown together in just a few days, everything matched perfectly.

I have to say, there are some visits that feel like we’re just going through the motions and then there is a visit with Vista Assembly. The folks you meet at this Church has the same heart: LOVE from the FATHER for EVERY PERSON! It doesn’t matter if you’re chatting about your vision with the head honcho or laughing about silly stuff with the Latino service poncho. They’re all the same, running with all they’ve got into the arms of an everlasting God, dragging their community along in the undertow.

The staff at Vista Assembly of God

Pastor Greeyvin hadn’t met us before. He didn’t even have a recommendation. He just sensed through the Spirit, that this was a God moment. We jumped into the vans that he and James had arrived in, and choofed off down the motorway to sunny San Diego (which is a complete farce. Well, sunny yes, but not hot. I had mistakenly believed that California would be an excellent first stop, due to a similar climate with Nicaragua – not true, my brain once again making a fool out of me!).

Pastor Greeyvin & Xinia of Vista Assembly of God (San Diego)

On the way “home” both Pastor Greeyvin and I spoke from our hearts. I was genuinely interested but also feigned interest (if that makes sense), because I was loopy now on account of tiredness, mas loco than I’d been in my life. I finally asked a question and then woke to a hand on my shoulder. “Wake up, we’re here… WAKE UP, WE’RE HERE!!!” We’d arrived.

Xinia, Pastor Greeyvin’s wife (both Pastor Greeyvin and Xinia are originally from Costa Rica), welcomed our troupe into their home with arms open wide. What an expression of the love of Christ! 2 people welcomed 15 people, whom they’d never met before, into their homes. They showed their love to the orphaned and abandoned, the unlovely, despised, rejected. They did what a host of Christians in Nicaragua have been unable to do, they extended themselves beyond their comfort zone, making an eternal impact on the lives of our loves…

We are now in California, to share Jesus with our World. If you would like to learn more about who our Nica-Youths are, then please visit their PAGES, “Created” tour, and "Nicavangelists." If you would like to see a video of some of our Nica-Youths, please CLICK HERE. We have no money, and need an investment from Christian people for our next evangelism tour to the Midwest. To support a Nica-Youth or make a donation, please CLICK HERE. Thanks for being a part of what God is doing in the hearts and lives of Nicaraguans. To learn more about Vista Assembly of God, please CLICK HERE.