Ice Cream Falling From the Sky, and other things...

One thing I really enjoy when I'm travelling is when I get the opportunity to see the world through the eyes of others. When, for example, I go to Africa with someone who has never been there before I love watching them experience those things for the first time. Or when friends and family from America come to visit me in Scotland, it is always fun to watch their reactions to things in the culture that I have grown accustomed to.

Well, this week I've been seeing snow through the eyes of an East African and it's been fascinating. Erick Oguta, from Tanzania, has been visiting here in Montana where I'm preaching this week, and we are doing some meetings together. It's been snowing quite a bit the past few days, and Erick had never seen snow before.

As we were driving in it two nights ago, he said, "If this were to happen back home people would think the world was ending." Yesterday morning, I had to coax him out of the house. He didn't want to go out because he said, "It's scary outside!" I did finally get him out though and he had a good day, though he's really glad the snow seems to be slowing down now.

We discussed how he might explain what he saw back in Africa. The closest thing anyone thought of was the concept of ice-cream falling from the sky, but I think that probably still falls a bit short of an accurate description.






It's amazing really to think about how many things each of us take for granted as part of life wherever we live but which are completely foreign concepts to people in other parts of the world. Just as Erick will struggle to explain snow, today we spoke to a Kiwani's group and tried to explain the concept of poverty to them.















We did the best we could to explain the situation in Africa, but I have a feeling that our best attempts were not much more precise than the idea of ice cream falling from the sky. People who have never seen it can never truly grasp the concept. Most Americans and Western Europeans would also think the world was coming to an end if they saw muddy streets with a stream running through them that doubled both as a toilet and drinking water; if they saw broken down huts filled with starving families, and fresh graves being constantly dug for AIDs victims in a land where the average lifespan is 35 years.

All the same, we are glad to be able to share something of the work in Africa and our attempts to help the poor, hurting and dying there. And we are grateful that people are able to get just enough of a glimpse that their hearts break for the people and they reach out to them. Without the help of people who care we wouldn't be able to go there and keep on making a difference.

This Friday we'll be speaking to a big group of Americans to share the vision for the work we do in Africa and to give them a chance to support us through their prayers and, if they feel so inclined, their gifts or even their personal presence in Africa to help educate, treat or help the people in various ways.

Though it will simply be fun for Erick to try to explain snow to Africans, this week our goal is to explain Africans to America. The great difference is that this is about much more than ice cream falling from the sky; this is about life and death. And it is my hope and prayer that, as ineffective as mere words may be, we can give them enough of a glimpse that they will want to help us to reach out to them.

An American Airlines Nightmare

Sorry it's been so long since I've updated my journal. It's been so busy lately that I've had a hard time keeping up on things. The following, however, is the story of my adventure with American Airlines during my recent trip to Ireland. The trip to Ireland was great, but I had a little trouble getting there (and my luggage had even more trouble than I did!). The following adventure will probably be one that many weary travellers can identify with...

Thursday 16 March –

I check in at the American Airlines desk in Los Angeles International airport for my journey from Los Angeles to Dublin via Chicago. “I’m afraid the flight to Chicago is going to be delayed sir”, the young lady tells me. “The only way you’ll make your connection to Dublin is if they hold that flight.” She assures me that it is possible that the flight from Chicago will also be delayed, but just in case she says she has made a reservation for me on the next evening’s flight.

The flight eventually leaves LA and arrives in Chicago 3 and a half hours late. When I get there that evening, I discover that the flight to Dublin has already been gone for over two hours. However, there’s nobody around to tell me where to go next, so I wander around the airport until I finally find an American Airlines representative. He tells me I am to go to the rebooking centre in a certain part of the airport and pick up a red phone.

I walk to the rebooking centre and find a row of red phones. When I pick it up, a voice asks me how she can help me. I explain my situation and say that I really need to get to Dublin right away if there’s any way at all that it can be done. She tries to figure out how to get me on another flight across the sea but discovers that there is nothing that can be done. I say, “Well, I guess I’ll have to go on tomorrow night’s flight to Dublin.”

“No, sir,” she tells me. “That flight is already full.”

I explain to her that the agent in LA reserved me a seat on that flight already just in case. She explains to me that no such reservation exists and its impossible to put me on that flight. Eventually, however, she figures out she can put me on an Aer Lingus flight on Friday evening. Since this is apparently the only option open to me, I accept. She gives me the flight details and hangs up.

Now I have a reservation for the next night and I think to myself: “Now what? Where do I sleep tonight?”

Unable to find any other American Airlines representatives on the concourse, I find my way eventually to the ticket counter. I go to a ticket counter and explain my situation to the agent. I say, “If I’m stuck for a day, I could really use a place to sleep tonight.” She books me in a nearby Holiday Inn and charges me $49 for the room.

I then go to baggage reclaim to ask what’s to happen with my luggage. I have to wait in line for awhile whilst the lady working there is incredibly rude to various other passengers. Then when my turn comes, she tersely tells me, “You can have your luggage taken off for the night, but you’ll have to fill out a change order and wait two hours for it.” I am REALLY exhausted, so the thought of waiting around two hours for my luggage doesn’t appeal to me much. She tells me, “But if you just leave it, your record shows that your luggage will go with you where you go tomorrow.” I have my doubts, but I’m too tired to be bothered so I decide to go to my hotel.

I go to the hotel on a shuttle filled with American Airlines passengers who have all been stranded for the night. They’ve come in from different places, but all of them missed their connections to various parts of the world. We hang out for a few hours in the hotel bar and then all go to our rooms for a night’s sleep. It’s a good thing I have this chance to sleep because, though I don’t know it yet at this point, the next day is going to be REALLY crazy!

Friday 17 March –

I go to the airport 3 hours before my flight in the afternoon because I want to allow plenty of time.

I wait in line at the Aer Lingus desk, and when I get to the agent she looks at my baggage tag and informs me that American Airlines has not released my bag to them. She says she can’t check me in until they have the bag. “You’ll need to go back to American Airlines and get your bag from them. Then you can come check in.”

American Airlines is in a different terminal, so I take a shuttle to that terminal and arrive in a HUGE room filled with American Airlines lines that are divided into sections A,B,C,D and E. I haven’t a clue where I should go, so I explain my situation to the guy at the entrance to section C. He tells me, “Go to line E.”

I walk WAY over to section E and wait in line. When I finally speak to an agent and explain my situation, she tells me, “I can’t help you here. Go to section A.”

So I walk WAAAAY over to section A and wait in line again. When I get to the agent there and explain my situation, he makes a phone call and then comes back to me to say, “Your bag is downstairs in baggage claim. You need to go to the desk at carousel number 5 and tell them to release your bag to you.”

I ask him, “Can you guarantee me they’ll give it to me? I asked them for it last night and they said I’d have to wait two hours for it.” He assures me that if I’ll tell them “the agent upstairs” told them to give it to me because I need it for another flight they will give it to me immediately.

I take the trip back to the luggage carosels and go to carousel number 5. I wait in another line and notice that the person I am about to speak to is the exact same lady who was so rude to me the night before and wouldn’t give me my bag. When I get to her and tell her what I was told, she says, “I can’t help you. Why are you coming to me?” I told her the agent upstairs told me I was supposed to. “Well,” she huffs, “you can’t get bags off at this desk. Go to carousel number 6!”

So I go to carousel number 6 and wait in line again… When I talk to the lady there, she asks another lady what to do. The other lady goes to a back room and comes back later to tell me that my bag is not back there. She looks at my file on the computer (apparently) and then declares, “Your bag’s already in Dublin sir.” I suppress the urge to say, “The airline can get my bags to Dublin but can’t get me there?” and simply ask, “Are you sure?” She insists that it is a certainty that my bags are already in Dublin.

I go back upstairs to the HUGE room full of American Airlines desks. Now I’m struggling to think straight and don’t know where I should go next. So I go to the First Class desk because it’s the only place where there’s no line.

I explain to the agent there that I’m not a first class passenger but that I’ve been getting the run around from various people for an hour and just need to talk to somebody who can tell me what to do next. She barks at me, “Oh please! What do you mean you’ve been getting the run around! There ain’t nobody been giving you the run around!”

I remain calm and say, “I didn’t mean you personally. But I have been getting the run around from other people and I just need somebody to help me figure out what to do next because I’ve gotten confused.”

She calms down and asks me for my story. Then she explains to me that its just the baggage people because they don’t work directly for the airline. She says they always have trouble with them but that the American Airlines employees themselves are always efficient. Then she prints out a boarding pass for me and says, “Here you go sir. You’re all set.”

I notice that the boarding pass is for that evening’s American Airlines flight which I’d been told there were no seats available on. I say, “I thought I was being sent to the Aer Lingus flight.” She explains to me that she’s sorted things out and I’m now on the American Airlines flight again. I also notice that the boarding pass is on Business Class so assume she must have arranged an upgrade for me out of sympathy for my troubles.

I then get in line for security. About halfway through the line, I examine my boarding pass further and discover that its in the name of MAURICE Lewis, not Christopher Lewis.

I go back to the First Class desk. The agent I talk to is busy, but the agent next to her waves me over. I explain to him, “I was just with her and she gave me this boarding pass, but that’s not my name.” He takes my passport and compares the name with the passport. He agrees. So he goes on the computer and after awhile says, “I don’t see your name on this flight at all.”

“Right,” say I. “That makes sense. As I told her, I thought American Airlines had protected me on Aer Lingus.”

He looks me up on the Aer Lingus flight and says, “Yes. There you are. You’re on Aer Lingus. I can’t help you here then. You need to go back to Aer Lingus and check in there.”

To be fair to the last two agents, at the point when I went to First Class I would probably normally have known I had to go back to Aer Lingus, but after all the lines I’d waited in I was just confused and had gone to that desk to ask them to clear my confusion. I sighed and simply said, “Ok. I’ll go back there. But one question first. Can you confirm for certain the status of my luggage because they won’t check me in unless they’re certain.”

“Yes sir,” he said. “Your record is clear on that. You’re luggage is already in Dublin.”

I go back to Aer Lingus and wait in line again. Then I end up back with the same agent who had sent me away two hours before. “Mr Lewis!” she exclaims. “I’m so glad to see you! We were beginning to worry you wouldn’t make it back. Did you find your luggage?”

“Well,” I explain. “After two hours of waiting in various lines they have assured me that my luggage is already in Dublin.”

She looks confused and says something about how that doesn’t make sense. She says, “Just a second sir. We really can’t check you in until we’re sure about your bag.” She starts to walk away to make another phone call when another agent tells her, “Oh, American Airlines called over here to tell us that Mr Lewis’ luggage is waiting for him in Dublin.”

“OK,” says she. “I guess we can check you in then.”

She checks me in and I head to the gate. When I get there the plane is already boarding, so I get on board and fly to Dublin.

Several hours later, I arrive in Dublin and go to the baggage desk to enquire about my bag. A girl looks at my record on the computer and asks me, “Is it blue?” She then proceeds to describe it in detail.

“Yes,” say I. “That’s the one.”

“It’s still in Chicago, sir. But it will come over on the next flight, and we’ll deliver it to you tomorrow.”

Two days later my bag finally arrives. It has a big American Airlines sticker on it that says “RUSH! RUSH!”

On the 27^th of March, I fly back to America. I make it back safely, I’m glad to say, though once again my blue bag gets lost in Chicago. I can’t say that my American Airlines experience was very impressive, but the rest of the trip was great. I loved my time in Ireland and look forward to being back there again in the near future.