Never normal

My inability to have a ‘normal’ travel experience was once again confirmed. I was returning from another city on a 6:30 am flight on Monday morning. I am supposed to be at the airport one hour early for this. I had made arrangements with one of my colleagues for transport to the airport early Monday morning, departing my accommodation no later than 5 am.

By 5:10 the vehicle had not come yet, so my host and I began trying to call various people to see what was happening. After about 3 dozen phone calls and waking up several friends from their peaceful sleep, I was assured a vehicle was on its way. I was calm, cool and collected on the outside, having resigned myself to spending the better part of the day waiting for the next available flight. On the inside I was already beginning to imagine the kinds of hassles and boredom I would need to endure this day.

At 6:05 am I left my friend’s house to make the normally 45 minute drive to the airport. No way am I going to make my flight, since they are not supposed to check anyone in after 30 minutes prior to departure time. The driver did not so much drive as he did some low altitude flying on the way. If cows wore underwear, there would be some who would need to change themselves following our high-speed near-miss incidents with them along the way.

At 6:27 I came speeding up to the airport entrance and jumped out and ran inside to the check in counter. For those of you who know me the image of me running is one that brings a mix of humor (like watching camels run) and sheer terror (the fact that something that big is moving that fast is a scary thing). This was reflected on the faces of some of the security guards and people in the airport as well.

The Supervisor on duty for the airlines somehow made an exception and in record time had a boarding pass in my hand and was pointing me towards the security door I had to go through. I was whisked through security and headed to the bus that was to bring me to the airplane. All the buses had gone. They had to now call another bus to bring me to the plane. I got a ‘private’ bus ride out to the plane, all by myself.

I boarded the plane and sat down, now thoroughly sweating as those of you who know me know it is easy for me to do. I had not been seated for 20 seconds when the guy next to me proceeds to ‘accidentally’ squeeze the contents of his strawberry yoghurt juice box all over my leg.

As the plane took to the air I breathed a sigh of relief, and reaffirmed to myself it does truly seem impossible for me to have a ‘normal’ travel experience. Or maybe this is my normal.

Abnormal conversations

Living overseas sometimes affords you conversations that are . . . . let’s say, abnormal. For example:

“Yeah, he just had to go down to Singapore for the weekend.”

“Yes, I would like to get a quote for 40 (yes, that is forty) full computer systems.”

“I don’t care if the monkey is more scared of me, I don’t want it on my house anymore.”

“I don’t know how the water got into my diesel tank. Just get it out.”

“Our electricity bill is less than 10,000 this month. Woo hoo!!”

These and many other abnormal conversations have been a part of my life this last week alone. Makes me think how strange it would be to live an ‘ordinary’ life.

Through new eyes

This week I had the chance to spend a little time with some people who are first time visitors to India. I almost always enjoy this since it helps me to see things here through a fresh set of eyes again.

Some of the observations were simple, and yet profound, and reminded me of some of the very things I love most about living here. The beauty and generosity of the people, the warmth of welcome nearly everywhere you go, and the craziness of how a country this big and complex can stay running at all.

Sometimes it is good to see things through new eyes all over again. Try it, you’ll like it.

The generosity of strangers

This last weekend I went to another city here in India to spend a couple days giving some orientation to a group of people who had come from the US. I had corresponded with the group leader by email and a couple times by phone, but other than that I did not know them at all before they arrived at the airport there.

We had a good time together, and before I left them to come back home, they told me they had brought a few things for me and my family. It turns out they had brought a suitcase full of snacks and goodies and things for me, my wife and my kids. This from people I had never met. And yet, knowing they would see me, they went to the trouble to buy all of this stuff and cart it to the other side of the world for us.

I was blown away by their generosity. Of course a big factor in this is the bond we all share in our Father and his Son, which made it all the more a great experience.

This got me thinking. . . . .I hope my family and I are generous with others as well. Knowing how good we felt that these strangers had cared enough to bring some things for us motivates me to help other experience that same feeling . . . the generosity of strangers.

A special thanks to our new friends (they are no longer strangers) from New Song LA.

The phones don't work

One of our friends who is here in India right now is from the UK. As a result of today’s tragedy in London, she was trying to get a hold of her mom in the greater London area, someone we work with as well. We also tried phoning her mom for her, and eventually got through to her. She told us she would call right back. When she called back, we told her that her daughter was urgently trying to reach her. She then went on to explain (while talking to us on the phone mind you) that in light of the incident today, none of the cell phones or land lines were working in or out of the London area. We talked to her twice in the span of ten minutes on phone lines that were not working apparently.

(We told her we would pass on the message to her daughter rather than further complicate the situation by asking her what method she was using to call us. That might have been too much on a day like today.)

The important things in life

While poking around on the internet today, I saw a story about a guy who was a ‘zealous’ Pittsburgh Steelers fan. He died this week and at his funeral he was placed sitting in a recliner in his pajamas, remote in hand, beer and smokes at his side, HD TV showing Steelers clips in front of him.

This got me thinking. One, pretty creative/different way to pay respect to a guy and honor what was important to him. I love creativity in things like this.

Two, on some levels, makes me wish I had something I was that ‘in to’ that would make people say “We have to incorporate this into his funeral.” Maybe there are things others see me as being that in to. Not sure what those would be, though.

Three, shouldn’t there be something more important to be remembered for than being a huge fan of a sporting team/event? Nothing wrong with that in and of itself, as long as there is something more to us. Sad part about the article is that it mentions precious little more about the guy.