Independence Day weekend in the Lima airport

Sleeping on the plane is like sitting in the dentist chair; you know you need it, but you don't enjoy it. But sleeping on the plane is less satisfying because it lasts longer and there is no anesthetic.

So after a long night of trying to get comfortable in an airline seat and failing; of telling your back, legs, and behind to quit complaining so we can get some rest, and of thinking how tired you will be tomorrow, we landed. Some where in there the sun came up or we caught up to it.

We landed, deplaned and found our first bottle neck, Immigration. A mix of citizens and foreigners zigzagged through close to a dozen switch backs. Three of us were welcomed into the country within about forty-five minutes. The other ten were delayed another hour because they got stuck in the back of the line.

We loaded our bags on six luggage carts and crowded into the customs line. Surprisingly this was very fast. We handed our declaration forms to the official and she pointed to a button below a green light and a red light. The green lit up for everyone. I assume red meant you get inspected.

It felt like we were a "truckin' convoy," but I'm sure we just looked like thirteen confused Americans with too much luggage. We convoyed into an enormous room with airline counters left, and Lima to the right through the windows. It looked like all of Peru was in there trying to get on a flight. We stood in the group check in line behind another large group. There was lots of activity at the desk, but the line didn't move. We watched our flight's status on the flight information board change from 'boarding' to 'last call' and then disappear. The group check in line was frozen. David Millsaps, the captain of our convoy, was running all over the enormous room getting advice from different airline employees. Finally, after our flight left us, we moved the convoy through pea soup thick crowds to the 'lost flight' counter.

At least that line moved, a little. Fending off line cutters we finally got to the front. Emily Wilburn, who deserves the title Assistant Leader because she made this trip last year and speaks Spanish well, was at the counter for literally hours speaking kindly and respectfully. She worked tirelessly amid a sea of angry patrons using every tactic to get their way. Her charm and polite manner, and the Lord's power opened three seats on the next flight.

Dawn Morton, April Finney, and Catherine LaHaye got on a strange airplane, headed for a city they knew not, to be met by strangers who spoke no English, oh and they knew little Spanish. They arrived safely and met Pastor Pablo.

Meanwhile back at the convoy in the lost flight line. David and Emily continued to work with Angela, the check in attendant until the remaining ten members of the team were on the same flight. That was a miracle. Juanita Hoffman, Angie Bennet, Judy and I were first on that plane. By this time Juanite (80 year old nurse) was in a wheelchair. Hours of standing had taken its toll. An airport attendant pushed Juanita toward the elevator and kept Judy with her as her nurse. Angie and I took the stairs. At the screening point Juanita and Judy got the VIP treatment. Angie and I were commoners--remove belt and shoes, get scanned, get dressed, run for flight. We actually arrived at our gate with plenty of time.

Now I don't want to leave you with the impression that the Lima airport is poorly run on regular days. This was Independence Day weekend and it seemed everyone was traveling. Still, by the time we left Lima we were seven hours on the ground.

Long line Lima

Making the best of the wait