The Flight(s) home, and two days in Texas

Dear friends and loved ones:

I arrived at Miami International Airport on Monday evening, March 5th, at 11:30 p.m. By midnight I had wound my way from the LAN Airlines arrival gate through that huge, spread-out, and currently under re-construction airport, finally making my way to and through Immigration and Customs. With an international arrival, even with a connecting flight, you have to receive your bag, go through Customs, and then re-enter your bag into the systems through security. Of course, after midnight, there are no open ticket counters and nobody to receive bags until the next day.

No matter when I returned from Ecuador, I was going to face this problem. You arrive at midnight, get your bags outside of security, and the next plane out is close to 7 a.m. I figured I had to wait until 4 or 5 a.m. for anybody to be there to receive the bags. My task now was to find a place to sit down and try to relax while I counted down the hours.

I found an area near the American Airlines counters with benches of armed chairs which had been pushed up-close, enabling one to sit in one chair and put one's feel in the other chair, directly in front of you. I gathered my bags close at hand, using my backpack to weave the bags together on the off cance that I would fall asleep. Then I ensconsed myself in a seat with my feet before me, listening to the repeating series of announcements (every 15 minutes) on the loud speaker: the Mayor and members of the County Commission welcoming me to Miami and The Beaches; The requirement to smoke outside in designated areas; the convenience of the newly remodeled airport that I can look forward to some time in the future; the convenience of using a quart-sized, zip-log bag for all liquid carry-ons (no more than 3 ounces, each); the time (with a loud gong!); the need for my vigilance with regards to watching my bags; and a few others that have, luckily, slipped my mind.

I came up with the strategy to cover-up the repeating, blaring announcements. I say blaring because the volume on the sound system had been adjusted to overcome the loud noise in a crowded, busy airport. After midnight, with hardly anybody around, the system is way too loud. My strategy was to listen to Brahms on my iPod and read a book. It somewhat worked, as I was able to hear all of the first three symphonies and read several chapters of my book. Then, exhausted, I tried to get comfortable enough to sleep for a couple of house. I rested my hips atop my luggage, both for the support and on the assumption that anybody trying to gain access to bags that were under me would probably wake me up.

I think I slept for about 20 minutes. Then came the large, riding-lawn-mower-sized floor cleaning, waxing and buffing machines. They pulled up beside me and parked, leaving the "beep, beep, beep" and flashing yellow strobe light running while the drivers of the two machines chatted with each other. A large assortment of other airport maintenance and cleaning staff gathered around the still-running machines, and they certainly had a loud and engaging conversatio. It wasn't until around four a.m. that the party broke-up, as TSA staff started to arrive for their day's work and airline personnel started to arrive and patronise the just-opening Starbucks.

I got up, re-arranged my bags for moving, and wandered off in search of a bathroom and then a walk.

By 4:45 a.m. a ticket counter opened up. I popped in line to check my bags, and by 5:05 a.m. I was on my way to security. Because of my stomach problems I had been afraid of eating, having not eaten anything since breakfast on Monday morning. I decided to forgo coffee or anything to eat and trudged on to my gate. There I sat until 6:15 a.m., listing to CNN Headline News blaring on a television across the terminal. It was the first English language news I had heard in two months, and I couldn't help but sit in rapt attention, even across the bredth of the terminal.

I was crammed into a tight window-seat for the 4 hour flight to Texas. I was terribly uncomfortabe the whole flight. My preference is always to sit on the aisle, where I have the illusion of not being so closed-in and trapped. Still, I often had to do relaxation exercises to keep myself calm and relaxed. Airplane seats are not built to help big, tall people sit comfortable.

My seat-mates were a father and son from Ecuador who were traveling to visit family in the Pacific Northwest. I had seen them on my LAN Airlines flight to Miami. We chatted a bit in Spanish, and I helped them understand where they would need to go in the Dallas/Fort Worth airport to help them make their flight. Also, on the flight from Ecuador to Miami my seat-mate had been a woman from Chile. I recognized her accent immediately, which made me very happy. As is my custom on airplanes, I only chatted as little as necessary. That often surprises my friends, as extroverted and chatty as I am. On airplanes, though, I prefer to keep to myself and not engage in conversation.

We arrived about 10 minutes early, and by 9:05 I had my bags and was standing outside of the airport, waiting for my father. He found me quickly enough, and we were very glad, indeed, to see each other. Even though I had no second thoughts about my early return from South America, the look in my father's eyes and in his whole body language, along with my own feelings of sheer joy, confirmed that I had made the right decision.

He asked me to drive, and we headed off in search of a breakfast restaurant on the road between the airport and Denton. We found a good place to eat in Lewisville. By 10:30 a.m. we were back in Dad's house, and I was sorting through things and doing laundry. My stomach was still giving me a lot of trouble, so I called the office of Dad's doctor to make an appointment. I was able to get an appointment for Wednesday morning, the next day.

That afternoon we went to an Apple Store and I purchased a new MacBook Pro computer, to replace the computer I had fried on day number 2 in South America. I had been planning on buying a new computer this year, having budgeted for it. My plan had been to buy it in May. It just didn't make sense to go through the hassle and expense of repairing the old computer when I was going to replace it in a few months anyway. Luckily for me, I had backed-up just about everything to a hard drive in Ann Arbor before I left the country. When I get home at the end of the month, I should be able to migrate all of that to the Mac.

On the way home from the Apple Store we stopped by Marie's house -- Dad's girlfriend. It was an unannounced visit, but she welcomed us gladly and warmly. We had a delightful visit. Then I dropped dad at the church where he joined a group of men who were serving as waiters at a banquet of his church's United Methodist Women group. Marie was so funny. As we left her house to go to the church, she said, "Now, Chester, remember. You goal is to get the food on the table, not on anybody's lap!" We all laughed a lot, especially my father.

Tuesday I kept my doctor's appointment. Scott sent me for blood work, and, uh... other tests. He also gave me an antibiotic -- my third antibiotic, and fourth medicine, to try to knock-out this bug. So far, any time I eat anything, I've got problems. Thank heavens, there isn't any other problem -- no nausea, dizziness, weakness, etc. Only the one, MAJOR problem. So I am hopeful that the medicine will knock it out this time. if not, well, then we'll move on to the next attempted solution.

Dad and I have decided to head to Knoxville for the weekend. My sister and brother-in-law are free all this weekend, and have a lot of time open at the beginning of the week. So, Dad has serviced the van and we'll pack this morning. Then, off to Knoxville. I asked the doctor about the wisdom about heading out of town, and he said that the cultures would take several days before he knew anything definative. If I should have problems still, the next treatment likely won't be able to start until mid-week next week, anyway. So -- off we go!

I thank you for all of the supportive and affirming notes I have received since my post about leaving Ecuador. I also thank you for the blessings of your love, care and prayers. I sure continue to need them! How I long to be well again!

Take care. I will continue to reflect and write about my thoughts and experiences in this blog. So far, I've not had much time to put my trip into perspective.


Again, many thanks. Know that I love and appreciate you dearly.

Grace and peace,
-- Bill

Adiós, Quito. ¡Hola, Texas!

It is official, friends. I´m heading back to the United States, early.

Today I canceled my program here in Quito and changed my airline ticket from the middle of March to today. Lord willing, by tomorrow morning (Tuesday, March 6th), I will arrive at the Dallas/Fort Worth International Airport. By this time tomorrow I will be with my father, in Denton. This brings joy to my heart, and gives a lift to my step.

I have been so very unhappy here in Quito. You have heard some of my problems with my profesora at the school. Believe me, there is much more to tell that I have chosen not to put in blog form -- partially for possible liability issues. Suffice it to say, there have been serious problems. Additionally, it has not helped that I have been unhappy in my homestay setting here. And the city pretty much reminds me of the bad things about my years in Detroit, minus the many things I loved (and love) so dearly about that city. It has been so difficult to be here this last week. That is an understatement.

To put it in another way, despite my best efforts, I have not made any connection here -- personal, physical, geographical, cultural, spiritual. No doubt my being sick hasn´t helped. (I´m still not over the diarrhea problems.) But there has been so much more. It has been a difficult, sad experience for me.

And so, I gave it my best effort, putting my best foot forward for a week. I do not want to end my South American experience with three weeks of feeling miserable. For this reason, after much prayer, I decided to end my studies here after one week and return to the States.

I spoke with the director of the school at length today, and both he and I were glad for that. He thanked me that I was direct with him, sharing my concerns and the reasons for my leaving. ("Usually, people just leave and don´t tell us why.") He also expressed his concern that I had experienced prejudice from a member of their staff. I suggested they need to do awareness training with regards to human sexuality. I also made some recommendations for adjustments to the structure of their program. I figured as long as I had his ear, I was going to tell him what I thought! He thanked me, and also complimented me on my effective use of Spanish. That felt good.

I came to sabbatical with a couple of major goals. Obviously, to re-learn Spanish was primary. I feel good about my progress with the language. I also longed to familiarize myself with new countries and cultures in Latin America, and I feel good about my progress in that area as well. Unknown to me was the insight I would have into being "the stranger" and being welcomed. Hospitality has been a big part of my experience here, and for that, I am grateful. I have learned ever so much! And I am a better person for it.

As I reflect in my final moments in South America -- for a while, anyway! -- I am exceedingly grateful for all of my experiences. The "Latin Immersion," ECELA schools in Buenos Aires and Santiago were top-rate, and I could not be happier with my experiences there. My homestays in those countries were also wonderful experiences. I will be forever grateful for the welcome I felt in those places, for the academic excellence of the schools and their staff, and for the blessing of getting to immerse myself in new cultures. What a gift!

As to Quito. Well. No doubt I will have positive things to say down the road a bit. But today, at this very moment, from my perspective right now, more than anything else, I am releaved to be leaving. Adiós.

Just so you know, I do not plan to return to Michigan early. I will take more time in Texas with my father than I had planned, and that will be a gift for both of us. It is possible that he and I will take a road trip -- perhaps to Knoxville, if that can be worked out with my sister and her family. I will take a long overdue trip to Kansas City to visit my friends, Phyllis and her daughter, Susanna. And I still look forward to my trip to California that I had planned for the end of the month, along with the train trip up the west coast and across the country. Much to do, and miles to go. Many blessings ahead. And behind. As always.

Thank you for your prayers, and for the blessing of your love and support.

Grace and peace,

-- Bill

La Mitad del Mundo (The Middle of the World)

North meets South on the Equator.

Walking the Line -- with my eyes closed.

The guide and my profesora were impressed

by how very well balanced I am!

Water draining (without a whirlpool) over the equator.



Who can balance a raw egg on its end? I can!
On the Equator, anyway.




The newer, "Scientific" site of the Ecuatorial line.
This picture is taken from outside the park´s security boundry.

Today my profesora and I went to La Mitad del Mundo, or the Middle of the World, the place just north of Quito where the equator is marked clearly -- in two different places! The round-trip took the 4 hours of class time, and of that, it was a little more than one hour by two buses in each direction to travel to the sites.

First, we went to the "Historic Site", the Iti-Ñan Museo, the Museum of the Way of the Sun. The guide books call this place hand-made and a little hokey, and I´d have to agree with them. The exhibits ranged from jars and jars of poorly preserved, bleached-white snakes, a model of the Galapogos Islands (sin agua), a reputedly ancient dwelling repleate with medicinal guinnie pigs (how do you spell that?) an "authentic," ancient grave site and artisans weaving wall hangings and rugs. Of particular interest, of course, were the experiments related to the equator.

One exercise was to close your eyes, hold your arms out (I hadn´t caught the part about putting your thumbs up in the air) and trying to walk the line. I followed it pretty well. Though the picture shows one foot straying slightly, when I opened my eyes, I was right on target. When repeating the same exercise to the north or south, the result wasn´t the same.

Another experiement had to do with water draining from a sink. On the equatorial line, the water drained directly from the bucket without a whirlpool. To the south, the water swirled in a clockwise direction. To the north, the water swirled in a counter-clockwise direction. Cool! I have little videos of all of that. Of course, the question is, was it just a trick, or not? The guy turned the sink one quarter turn as he moved it south, and a quarter turn in the other direction as he moved it to the north. Now, I´ve got to say that I had done my own experiment with this on my sabbatical. I had previously noticed that the water down south swirled backwards from what happens back home in the states.

The final experiement was just too cool. It was a test to balance a raw egg on its end. Of course, you can´t do that. Many of us have tried, or we have perhaps seen it on "The West Wing." Well, I was one of three people who was able to get the egg to balance on the head of a nail. I did it pretty quickly (of course!), while the others took a while. My profesora just didn´t have the balance to pull it off! But I was awarded a certificate for my outstanding talents, and will cherish it always, or until I lose it, whichever comes first!

Afterward we went to the "Scientific" site, which was selected by satelite a few years ago -- by the French, I think. I don´t quite understand that part, but the profesora and our tour guide did go on a bit about the French. Anyway, we walked over to the site but didn´t pay to go in. My profesora insisted that I should come back on a Sunday when there is lots of folk dancing and the like. Also, I recognized that we had only an hour until class ended, and no doubt she was aware of that fact, too. Nothing like the end of your shift coming to encourage you to move along! So we caught the bus back to the city, changing near an old hospital just west of the old city.

On the way back my profesora wanted us to work, but I would have none of it. I wanted to see the sights out the windows of the bus! So I politely dug-in my heels and refused to do the multiplication tables exercise. (Truly, I need the practice with numbers! But we can do that in the classroom....) Then she fell asleep, and I enjoyed the vistas. Later, she tried to get a theological discussion started, but I politely declined that one, too. I´ve already told her that Christianity is a community-based faith, that she needs to go to church and read the Bible, and then we can talk theology. "Don´t tell me what you THINK the Bible says," I´ve told her, "Or what somebody has TOLD you it says. Read it yourself! Then you can tell me what it actually says!"

In truth, I´m trying to avoid theological discussions when I can. I´ve grown weary of the well-worn path of The God of Justice who punishes sinners, rapists, murders, Hitler and homosexuals. The idea of Divine boundless, radical love and grace is actually disturbing to many of the folks with whom I´ve spoken here in Ecuador.

The one exception is my homestay "mother," Cecilia. She is VERY religious -- Catholic. She faithfully prays regularly, letting down her hair and kneeling beside her bed. She is an environmentalist at heart, has great passion for peace and harmony among the nations and the races, constantly speaks of the blessings of God, and with her, I have not minded the theological conversations. She quickly agreed with me that God loves the whole world, no exception. I believe she is a pediatritian by training, though she only volunteers 2 hours daily at a children´s hospital now. She is gifted with house plants and in gardening. She is also a good cook!

Well, friends, it is time for me to head out into the city and find something interesting (and safe!) to pass this Friday afternoon. Tomorrow I plan to climb to the top of a volcano with friends from the school. That should be fun -- if my stomach will allow it! The journey begins with a ride up a teleferico and we hike/walk from there. I figure if I´m not feeling well, I´ll join the group for the beginning of the journey and then head back down on my own.

Thank you for your prayers. Keep them coming! Believe it or not, there is only one month of sabbatical left now. And I have only two weeks left in South America. I must admit, my heart is glad for time´s progress. It will be good to return to the states, and to get back to the Great Lakes.

Take care. Much love to you all!

From the well balanced... (or Good Egg?)

... Bill