Philippines 2014: Forty-Six Hours of Travel, Oh My!

Posing for this picture at 11:00 am on Wednesday, July 9th, we look so fresh!  I, for one, am glad that I didn’t know some of what lay ahead.  

July 9th, 2014

Not that anything was particularly disappointing; it’s more that it would have been so daunting.  In fact, at the end of almost every day on this trip, I said to my roomie, Marsha, “I am so glad that I did not know ahead of time all that this day would hold!”  I would have not believed that I could do it all! Exhausting!  But--oh, so satisfying.  That’s the only way to describe it.

Shortly after the picture, we were on our way to the Charlotte Douglas Airport. After stops in Chicago and Qatar (more about that later), we landed in Manila on Friday, July 11th around 4:00 pm.  The Philippines is 12 hours ahead, so for us, it was 4:00 am.  By the time we collected our bags, met our ride, and arrived at our destination of Faith Fellowship Aurora, it was 9 pm.  That translates into 46 hours total from the time of the initial picture to reaching our destination.

Lots of bags--Lots of people, Manila airport

Manila traffic on a Friday night is something to behold.  We really didn’t have far to go in miles, but it took over 3 hours to maneuver through the traffic. No words to describe how it works there…no order, no sense of staying in a lane; really, I have never seen anything like it.  God bless our drivers!

What happened in the 46 hours between July 9th and July 11th? 

We flew to Chicago first.  It was there that we met Bethany.  She saw all eleven of us in our purple shirts and suspected that we must be on a mission trip.  She approached us and introduced herself. Bethany was on her way to Madagascar for a month, in preparation for a longer mission commitment beginning in 2015.  We loved her!  In fact, when we arrived in Qatar, Kim invited her to be our guest at the airport lounge.  We had eight hours to wait and she had seven.  

What a lovely young woman and what a great place of respite for us.  The airport and the lounge are new.  In fact, the lounge was not listed as being open yet but we prayed hard that it would be and we were happy to find it so.  I can’t decide whether the best part was the shower or the fabulous food…it’s a toss-up!  It felt wonderful to have a shower.  The food was fantastic.  

Marsha, Kim, Janice, and Sonja

Delicious!

Now is probably the time I should confess my faux pas…the one that made some of my team members want to remove their purple shirts for fear of being associated with me.  I really have my ankles to blame, first and foremost. Here is a picture of the instigators:

I have Cankles!

My skin stung from being stretched so much.  The flight from Chicago to Qatar was almost 13 hours.  All of the food was prepared in accordance with Islamic standards (announced to us before each meal and snack).  Translation:  spicy and salty.   I am one who rarely turns down a meal, but this was not appealing to me at all.  Who wants chicken and rice for breakfast?  Spicy chicken and rice, at that. 

So…after a wonderfully satisfying meal in the airport lounge I began to wish I could elevate my feet.  I felt I needed to get them above my heart.  When Devri said to me, “Just put them up on the wall,” I thought that sounded like a great idea.  I truly didn’t understand that she was joking.  (Since then, the girls decided that I am kindred spirits to Amelia Bedelia).

I am told that I created a spectacle.  Yes, I had a skirt on but I tried to cover with a blanket (apparently unsuccessfully).  It wasn’t the peek of my thighs that brought the attendant running, though, it was the sight of my feet.  The team had talked me into taking them off the wall but then, I put them up on a chair (facing the glass windows) while still lying on the floor.  I had achieved the height (or low) of offense at this point, as the bottoms of my feet were in view for all to see.  Not a good idea in Qatar.  Especially during the month of Ramadan.  

We have talked since then as to whether my team would have stayed in Qatar had I been arrested.  I have been assured by our leader, Kim, that we would have stayed together, no matter what.  I am SO glad that the consequences were no more than embarrassment.  My poor team. 

No more pictures of my feet, but here is one that touched my heart:  prayers for Bethany.  

Kim, Bethany, Amber, Danya, and Devri

Our encounter wasn’t by chance but by Divine direction.  It was so great to hear her story and in some small way, be an encouragement to her. 

We took this picture with Bethany before departing for our flights:

Kim, Diann, Tina, Devri, Cindy, Janice, Danya, Bethany, Marsha, Cherie, Amber, Sonja

If you would like to follow Bethany in Madagascar, you may do so here.  She is making a difference…I am so proud to call her my new friend.

As far as Qatar Air, the food was not so great but the planes and the staff were impressive.  Beautiful attendants, fashionable uniforms (the nicest I have seen), and very interesting bassinets for babies which hung on the wall. I wish I would have snapped a picture.  We had two babies hanging on the wall on our flight from Qatar to Manila.  Relieved that neither fell out!  I did fine some stock photos:

Don't they look cozy?

Cindy is comfy, too

Landing in Qatar

It's a Biggin!

When we arrived at the church in Manila, it was so great to meet more of Kim’s friends (especially Marilyn, whom I had corresponded with quite a bit in the process of writing and printing a devotional in the Philippines.  Marilyn was key in getting information to Benette, who graciously and generously formatted the book for me. Thanks Marilyn!).  

We were warmly welcomed with home-made soup, KFC, and gifts. 

Delicious Welcome!

Should the hand fans and sweat towels have been an indication of what was to come?  Silly me, I thought it was a washcloth.  I soon appreciated the custom of wearing a towel under the back of my shirt with a small portion folded over the neck.  Yes, it was that hot and humid.  I will tell you all about it soon.

Philippines 2014: Initial Thoughts

Women's Retreat in Pozorrubio

I have been avoiding this—the writing about my trip to the Philippines.  Rarely at a loss for words and guilty on countless occasions of exceeding the recommended 500 word limit for blog posts; I am known for throwing propriety and caution to the wind.  I write until I am done with my thoughts.  Perhaps it is fear that keeps me from writing now; fear that words might fail to do justice to what my heart knows to be true.

Don’t let me be guilty of overdone platitudes: “I went to give but how much more I received,” or “I thought I would serve but it was they who served me.” Not that any of that is untrue.  It just isn’t enough.

You have to know this about me first—I am sentimental, but I am not.  I am romantic, but I am not. Tears do not come easily to me.  I am a realist.  I am suspicious.  I have learned not to expect too much and therefore, I am often pleasantly surprised.

All that I knew was that I was supposed to go.  I didn’t know why.  Honestly, I wasn’t the least bit excited about this journey even a week before.  Oh, I pretended to be excited.  Truthfully, I held more dread than anticipation. What if the heat was unbearable?  What if I felt suffocated being around people for two weeks?  Where would I find the peace and solitude that I crave?  What if I don’t sleep and get cranky and horribly offend someone?

Please understand, I am the same woman who stood on a hill overlooking Jerusalem in 2000, surrounded by friends who were weeping for joy at their first sight of the Holy Land, all the while feeling nothing but shame for having no tears of my own.  I was miserably tired, hot, and unimpressed by the pale beige tones of the desert and the pierce of the thorny ground into my Birkenstock-exposed toes.  Jet lag is not my friend.

Afraid of setting my expectations too high, the best I knew to do was to lean in to the prayers offered on my behalf.  There must have been more than I even imagined.  I had the privilege of an assignment prior to the trip…the writing of a devotional for the women we would meet in Manila and the provinces, “31 Days of Hope.”  One of the days was about letting go.  For someone like me who lives alone and has the illusion of control, journeying with a group to other side of the world can be daunting.  I took my own advice and it helped.  Well, actually, it was the advice of a friend to me when I was escalating up the hill of a roller coaster I had never ridden before; “Just relax and let it happen.”  And so I did.

It didn’t matter that I didn’t get more than five hours of sleep at a time while I was there.  It didn’t matter that I was drenched with sweat much of the time.  It didn’t matter that there was a typhoon and we were without electricity for an entire day, and portions of days thereafter.  It didn’t matter than I had way too much rice and (sometimes) food that I could not identify. None of that mattered because this adventure, this, was the best trip I have ever taken…even better than Italy.  How could this be?

My heart was fully engaged.  That is what mattered.

On the way to the airport 07_09_2014

Manila...after 38 hours of travel

This rainbow was waiting for us at the Manila airport

Oh, I am not done…this is only the beginning…