Getting There is Half the Fun

Well, I have been back in the U.S. for a few weeks, and I am just now beginning to allow my mind to process my trip to Ghana, Africa. I wrote in a journal while I was there, but those entries are more of a collection of facts and stories than anything else. I am hoping that now, as I share my journey with you, my friends, I can really understand this trip's effect on my heart and its impact on my life.

I guess there is no better place to start than the beginning.

Because I had to meet my group at a predetermined time in the JFK airport, it took 5 planes and almost 48 hours of travel to get from Colorado Springs to Accra, Ghana (and the same on the way back). I am no stranger to domestic travel. Sadly, I have restaurant locations memorized for several DFW terminals. But these would be my first International flights.

Over the last few years of raking in the frequent flyer miles, I've noticed that every airport has its own distinct personality. Take the airports I visited on this trip for example; the Colorado Springs airport is like The Olive Garden. When you're here, you're family. It's very small, everyone (including the TSA staff) is relaxed, and flights in and out are generally filled with locals or military men in uniform, which means you always feel pretty safe.

The DFW airport is pretty fast paced. People are generally running even if they don't need to be, but everyone is still very kind and helpful. DFW airport inhabitants equally value comfort and style, meaning women shamelessly wear over priced, designer sweats with 3 inches of makeup caked on their face and curled hair. It's a sight.

The Boston airport is interesting. Everyone looks like they just stepped off mommy and daddy's yacht. It's like a Polo catalogue threw up in the airport. Whatever you're wearing, you are probably underdressed and they will judge you for it.

At JFK, they are incredibly efficient. However, everyone is in a rush and someone might just tackle you even though they have 3 hours before they board their flight. Don't bother asking for help because you will just get rerouted to another person who refuses to help you until eventually the task can be shifted to another airport entirely. But hey, your potential for a Tim Tebow (or any celebrity) sighting just increased significantly, and at least you aren't at LaGuardia!

It has taken me over 6 years of semi-frequent travel to learn these idiosyncrasies of U.S. airports, and I was downright scared of jumping into International air travel, especially with 5 people I had never met.

Our team's co-leader, Katy was the first person I met when I arrived at the NYC terminal. Katy is a Compassion staff member here in Colorado Springs and we quickly became friends. Her parents both work for The Navigators and I had countless interactions with her dad over the past 2 1/2 years. Nothing puts your heart at rest like making an instant connection with someone.

Shortly after meeting Katy, I met Penny and Mike from Texas...

...and Kristen from Missouri, who would become my roommate for the duration of the trip.

Only a few minutes after introductions, we boarded our flight to London. 

I have the unique ability to sleep anywhere (photo from 2008 - interestingly enough, same shorts I wore during my travel to Ghana)

Airplanes are no exception. In fact, there are few places I can sleep as peacefully as I can on an airplane. It is one of the only times my phone is completely off and understandably, no one can reach me no matter what the emergency. For those few hours, life just stops. There is nowhere else I can be or should be but in that seat, and for that small block in time, I can happily doze off freely without guilt.

All of that to say, on my first International flight ever, I forced myself to stay awake long enough to eat, (because food on International flights is actually pretty legit) and then happily slept the rest of the time. A stuart woke me up once to ask me to close my window shade because it would soon be morning. Then I looked down at my watch to realize it was only midnight. So the big takeaway from this blog is that if anyone says time travel doesn't exist, I can easily prove them wrong.

A few things about London. First, Heathrow airport is freaking nuts! It's like sensory overload in there, but the airport staff was very kind. Second, we had to take a bus from the terminal where we landed to the terminal of our next flight. No big deal, except the bus comes every 10 minutes and it's a 7 minute bus ride. Right off the bat, a big difference between Europeans and Americans, they think 17 minute terminal transport is acceptable. We, in America, wait a maximum of 30 seconds and complain via Twitter for 20 of them. Also, in America, we do not allow our airport security staff members to wear turbans. In London, this does not seem to be alarming or strange to anyone. Finally, speaking of security, there are different rules altogether. My water bottle was half full from my previous flight. This has happened to me in the U.S. and generally TSA will just pour it out for me and then scan my overpriced, water bottle. However, in London that is way too much of a security threat so your choices are either to get out of line and dump the water in the bathroom, or chug the water right there in front of airport security to prove it is not harmful. I chugged the water. 

Unfortunately, we only had a 3 hour layover so the only part of London I saw was the airport. However, if I am ever asked if I have been to London, I will respond with, Yes. I took this very European bus tour there. It was so great.

I was slightly more lively on my flight from London to Ghana and was able to stay awake long enough to chat with the man next to me, a Ghana native living in Manchester. He asked if I travel to Ghana often to which I responded, Do I look like I go to Ghana often? If I am giving off the 'I do this all the time' vibe that is awesome! But the truth is, this is my first trip to Africa. 

To be honest, as a sat on the plane and began to journal, I still refused to allow myself to be excited. I was still holding onto the possibility that this trip would not happen. My mind was running crazy with the possibilities - that something would be wrong with my passport or visa or I would be missing some kind of paperwork, that I would arrive in Ghana only to be sent on the next flight back to the U.S. 

Twice before I had attempted to go on an International mission trip, and both times something crazy happened that prevented me from going. Why did I find it so impossible to believe this was the trip the Lord had planned just for me? Even more frightening, both times the Lord closed the door on my prior International trip attempts, His alternate paths for those weeks (a mission trip to New Mexico and working for Student Life) permanently changed the entire course of my life. If the Lord's plan was this trip, then that meant chances were, I had every reason to be nervous, because life as I knew it was about to change.