Since my teenage years, I have had a desire to become a missionary. After many years of inquiries, conferences and applications, the opportunity finally presented itself in August of 2011 and I was off to Managua, Nicaragua, the second poorest nation in the World.
Then, in January of 2012, my second missionary trip was to
Carrefour, Haiti -- only two years after it had experienced one of the most
devastating earthquakes in history.
Haiti, one of the poorest nations in the world, even after two years, had the look of a place which had just been affected by the earthquake. We were housed in an earthquake affected facility which overlooked one of the larger “Tent Villages” there. Our mission was to complete two two-bed room family residences which would eventually house a minimum of six people each. We visited places of worship as well as a home for young girls and another one for young boys, most of whom had lost their parents in the earthquake. There were many disheartening stories of death from the earthquake. The daily exposure to the level of poverty and the conditions in which humans exist was very traumatic for me and makes me more appreciative of what I have.
Haiti, one of the poorest nations in the world, even after two years, had the look of a place which had just been affected by the earthquake. We were housed in an earthquake affected facility which overlooked one of the larger “Tent Villages” there. Our mission was to complete two two-bed room family residences which would eventually house a minimum of six people each. We visited places of worship as well as a home for young girls and another one for young boys, most of whom had lost their parents in the earthquake. There were many disheartening stories of death from the earthquake. The daily exposure to the level of poverty and the conditions in which humans exist was very traumatic for me and makes me more appreciative of what I have.
My name is Angela King. I reside in Plainfield, New Jersey
but I am from the island of Jamaica.
This is the story of my most recent missionary trip to
Nicaragua. It is August 2012 and the
time is fast approaching for my departure on the 17th. I had accumulated quite a few items from
donations for the children of Nicaragua.
I spent the night of the 16th packing until 2am, taping and
labeling four storage totes with these donations.
I was off to the airport at 3:00pm with the four totes, one carry
case of art pencils and crayons, one piece of personal luggage, my laptop and
my pocket book. My flight departure time
was 4:59pm.
I arrived at the airport, unloaded my luggage, said goodbye
to Reverend Jennings who transported me and waited for a Red Cap. Due to a
luggage issue with a passenger ahead of me, my wait on line for the one agent
on duty was approximately forty minutes.
It’s now 4:20pm.
I gave the agent my documentation and showed her my
luggage. It is at this time she informs
me that there is an embargo in Nicaragua and I am only allowed two pieces of
checked luggage. After much protest to
no avail, and because nothing can be disposed of at the airport, I inquired of
changing my flight so I can take the items back home. I was given a cost of over one thousand
dollars. “Are you people crazy?” was the
only thing I could say. She informs me
that I must check my two pieces or I cannot check anything.
So here I am at 4:35pm, flight boarding and almost in tears. I grabbed my personal bag and one tote, gave
them to her and paid the fee which she told me would be the total cost to
Nicaragua. With my head still spinning,
I remembered that my girlfriend LaWana works just outside the airport but it’s
Friday and she is not usually at work that late. I took a chance and called. No answer.
In total panic I called her husband Samad who got a hold of her. She is
still at work!
She races to the terminal as I hear the final boarding call
for my flight. I see her coming. I leave the totes on the curb, grab my
laptop, pocket book and the carry case of crayons and head for the security
checkpoint, still hearing the final boarding call.
The line is snaked around several rows. I find a TSA agent and let her know that my
flight is completing its boarding. She
tells me I am only allowed two pieces of carry-on luggage and I have
three. “What?” I inquired as to where I
can dispose of the case of crayons. “You
cannot,” she advises. Not at the airport.
She says I have to get my laptop into my pocket book and with the case of
crayons that will be two pieces. Get my laptop (which is in a case) into my
pocketbook? Either all these folks have
lost their minds or I am in a really bad episode of “The Twilight Zone.”
I still believe God got that laptop into my pocket
book. She put me at the front of the
line with my two pieces of carry-on. By now they are calling my name to board
the flight. The other agent is still checking my boarding pass and
passport. I yelled, “that is my name
they are calling” and another passenger put me in front of her. I unloaded all the items I just stuffed into
my pocket book for security screening. I
ran through the x-ray machine (still being paged), I grabbed everything and
with pants falling down, stuffed everything under my arm and ran for gate C34
while yelling “out of my way” all the way there.
The agent asks “who are you?” I could only stab at the paper
he was holding. “Ok you made it,” he
says. “Are my pants down?” I inquired of
a fellow passenger, “no they are still up,” she said. It sure didn’t feel like it. I thanked her
and sat down for the first leg of my flight.
I arrived in Miami and decided to double check with an agent
about the fee I paid in Newark which should have taken my luggage to Nicaragua
the next day. She took one look at my
receipt and said “they did it wrong.” “Wrong?” I inquired. “Yes, they booked you with Miami as your
final destination.”
Seeing the look of utter disbelief on my face, she said, “bring
your receipt in the morning and tell the agent what you just told me, maybe
they will be able to do something for you.”
I was tired and just could not deal with anything else at
this point so I found a hotel for my overnight stay and got picked up by the
shuttle. After grabbing a bite to eat, I
finally got to my room. Lying down never felt so good!
The next day, I dressed, packed and went to the hotel lobby
to await the airport shuttle. A few
minutes later, I received a call from the airline that my flight was being delayed
one hour. I decided to go ahead and take
the shuttle and wait at the airport. As
I entered the terminal an agent asked where I was going. I told him Nicaragua. He said “you can’t take that.” “Can’t take what?” I inquired. “The tote,” he said. “There is an embargo and
it is considered a box.” “You have got
to be kidding. Why was I not told that in New Jersey so I could have sent
everything back home?” A shrug of the
shoulder was all I got.
“So what can I do with it?” “You can purchase a bag, put the
items in it and dispose of the tub,” he advised. “Where can I get a bag?” “There is a store around the corner.”
I found the store and relayed my story to the clerk who
thoroughly enjoyed my dilemma thus far.
I found a large bag which was on sale (I could not have afforded one
otherwise) and still frustrated, stuffed the entire tote in it along with the
case of crayons. I now had two pieces of
luggage.
I walked back to the airline counter, found an agent, who
took my bags after I told her my story without any additional charges.
Our flight arrived in Nicaragua without incident. We cleared
customs. When the buses arrived most of
our luggage had to be loaded on the roof racks and yes you guessed it; it
rained so we arrived at The Villa Esperanza with soaked luggage.
The Villa Esperanza (Village of Hope) is the realized vision
of Gloria and Wilbert Sequeira. Along with Forward Edge International, The
Villa houses at-risk girls who are rescued from a life of prostitution and are
given the chance to grow up and live a normal life. The Villa also hosts visiting missionaries who
help the young girls mature through adulthood.
Along with our mission to spread the word of God, our purpose
on this trip was to complete the multi-purpose center in Christo Rey and build
homes for the needy.
Christo Rey (Christ Came) was named by the villagers after
they were put on this undeveloped land and left to make it on their own. The missions to Christo Rey are usually
geared towards building homes for the Villagers whose shelter is normally
constructed of plastic, cardboard and posts made from locally harvested
trees.
We worked in Christo Rey for five days and accomplished all
we had planned for this Mission. Four
homes were completed, the multi-use center along with a kitchen and bathroom
were 95% completed.
And so after our time of fun with the girls at The Villa, it
was time to return home. Because our
flight was early on Sunday morning, we left The Villa on Saturday to stay at
the hotel directly across from the airport.
Upon arriving at the hotel, we were given the news that all flights to
Miami were cancelled until further notice due to the onset of hurricane Isaac.
The men returned with news from the airline that the
earliest flight we could get out of Nicaragua was on Tuesday and it was not
going to Miami. The flight was scheduled
for Guatemala, where we would get another flight to Houston, Texas, then
another flight to Washington, D.C. our final stop! But we are going to New
York, how will we get there? We will
rent vehicles and drive up, was the answer. The men had already booked us out on the
Tuesday flight.
So we hung out at the hotel, each enjoying a mini vacation. Personally
I needed the rest. On Tuesday we began our journey home from Nicaragua to
Guatemala to Houston to DC. Rented two passenger vans and drove home. I was
dropped off at Newark Airport at 3am on Wednesday. I got Reverend Jennings out
of bed to come and take me home.
I will be returning to Nicaragua in December ….. you gotta
love this mission work!