First Twenty-four Hours

It seems like flying to Africa is always just as adventurous as my experiences there. My first itinerary was to fly from Rochester, NY to Cincinnati, OH to Paris, France to Antananarivo, Madagascar. Fifteen minutes before walking out the door to get on that flight I got a call that my Rochester flight was cancelled and was then re-routed for a later flight leaving Rochester to JFK to Paris to Antananarivo. When I got to the airport for the second flight I found out it was delayed and was forced to change airlines now going from Rochester to Newark to Paris to Antananarivo because of layover conflicts. Well, it only took about a two-minute walk from security to find out that my Newark flight was also delayed. If I arrived in Newark on time, I would have one hour to get my boarding pass, go through security again, get to my gate and board my next flight in another terminal, keeping in mind that international flights board one hour ahead of departure.

Thankfully my flight landed in Newark at the delayed projected time and that is when a sprint fueled by a panic attack began. This was my time to be that frantic traveler who doesn’t get to their gate on time running through the airport like a banshee hair flying and backpack bouncing all over the place. I was directed to the airline check-in to obtain my boarding pass only to find it shut down and dark except for one lady at a side kiosk. I pleaded my case as if before a judge in control of my fate who immediately told me I had to go back to my arrival gate and re-book my flight because there was no way I was going to make it. However, she called my departure gate as a perfunctory gesture just to “allow me a deep breath” in preparation for my walk back and to demonstrate that she “tried” to get me on the flight. All the while I am thinking, Woman- I don’t care about a deep breath just get my on that plane! At this point the tears began to form in disbelief I missed my flight and questioning if I am supposed to be going to Madagascar? Is all of this a sign? In that moment I whispered to God, “get me on that plane!” This wasn’t exactly a request and probably wasn’t one of my most reverent moments before the Big Man but I didn’t have time to be eloquent.

At that moment a ticket agent walked by who said he could check me in and get my boarding pass and the gate agreed to hold the plane for me. I couldn’t believe it! And I didn’t believe it while I stood there for what felt like forever waiting for that magic paper that would allow me entrance through the forbidden zone armed with metal detectors and fake police in TSA uniforms. An older couple and myself were the last ones on the plane. Finally my heart slowed, adrenaline subsided, and it became real yet again that God answers prayers and I am really on my way Madagascar!

So here I sit on the plane two hours until touch down in Antananarivo. I would like to hope that the last 24hrs aren’t an indication of the next six months, but I guess only time will tell. Regardless, I know that the God that got me on this flight will be deplaneing along with me in Madagascar.