Wednesday 2/28
(midnight)
The day actually started last night when Paulcy assured me that we wouldn’t need an alarm to be up for 7am breakfast and departure for the airport. At 7 sharp, LouLou sharp knocking at the door woke us both from a sound. We piled into our clothes with no shower and rushed downstairs to a delightful European breakfast of breads and cheeses. The kids were heading out for school as we finished and we said goodbye to what must be the most hospitable family in Brussels while snapping final pictures. We loaded into both cars and drove (or rather, crawled) through morning rush hour to the airport. Once there, we miraculously breezed through check-in, including the infamous SN Brussels luggage weight-check (the Lord must have extracted 30 lbs. from our luggage during the drive), and security.
Our flight, a massive Airbus A330 (8 seats across, 2 aisles) was packed and after such outstanding seats on previous flights, I suppose I deserved to get the only window seat on the plane with no window at all – oh well. There is always the overnight trip back, and who wants to see the French Alps, Spanish Pyrenees, Rock of Gibraltar, or the Sahara desert anyways? While we were slightly delayed taking off because of a water leak while we were taxiing, I was suddenly convulsed with violent nausea and cold sweats. Maybe it was the stale air, lack of window, or just fatigue, but it less than fun. Paulcy snagged an attendant who brought me water while I valiantly held off waves of nausea – thankfully, I was successful and felt fine the rest of the day.
With no windows, I was able to see outside only by reclining my seat and peering out of the corner of my eye out the window behind me – these contortions provided me a nice view of the wing and a sliver of sky. I did manage brief glimpses of the Pyrenees, The Rock/Straits of Gibalter, the Moroccan coast and the ominously vast Sahara. In Dakar, Senegal, we stopped to unload a few passengers and to refuel. We weren’t permitted to disembark so my pics of Dakar are limited to ones shot through a kind gentleman’s window. Someone apparently did leave without proper permission and we were delayed again for an hour.
During the delay I met some interesting folks. A couple in front of us were wearing shirts printed with Laurens, SC on the sleeve – they were from a Baptist church and coming to do Humanitarian work. Behind me was a 30-ish couple from South Bend, IN (Yes, Notre Dame fans, but we’ll forgive that). They were friends with a Leichty girl from Bern whose father had worked at Smith Brothers where my grandpa worked for years – small world! Their business in Liberia is to adopt 3 children: 5 yrs, 2½ yrs, and 9 months respectively. They are believers and will certainly need grace, beginning with their flights home, no doubt.
Anyway, we finally landed in Monrovia after dark. We were the only arriving flight, but customs and baggage was indescribable mayhem. A security guard pulled us over and in hushed tones straight out of a spy movie, confirmed we were FPC and instructed us where to have our passports checked, how to collect our bags and then to wait for him. We did so, after which he took money from Dr. Allison which he then slipped to every customs official we passed, resulting in a complete lack of any bag searches – Amen. He led us outside (a steamy 78 degrees) where Pastor McCole, Pastor Kowah and about 35 others greeted us in a bright yellow “Free Presbyterian Mission Church of Liberia” t-shirts. They sang, yelped, hugged, kissed, played maracas, and proudly held up a large Welcome banner – it was heartwarming and humbling at the same time.
We loaded into a tiny minivan (our luggage traveled in a separate car) and our apparently very inexperienced driver steered us to Monrovia while we made phone calls. My spirits were instantly dampened when Linds told me of Isaiah’s worsened, congested condition – but God knows and is with them too, not just with me.
We arrived at the guesthouse where several of the men and our inn-keeper, Michael, greeted us again. We formed a circle and Pastor Kowah led out a stirring African song of thanks to God. After prayer, the men left and we ate a very nice, albeit cold (we arrived late), dinner of chicken and fries. We then retired to our simple, but well-appointed rooms, unpacked, and here I am at 1am still awake – and ready to sleep. I’ll need it tomorrow. Goodnight, Liberia!
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