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| 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.
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| 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.
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| 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.
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| 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.
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| 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…).
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| 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.
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| 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!).
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| 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.
