The Dennis Life

Of course I had intended to keep up to the minute and post a travelogue at the end of each evening, but time has not permitted, so I’ll do my best to keep as up-to-date as I can. 

March 31, 2007, 10:30AM, the International Worship Institute (IWI) Mumbai journey begins. One time zone, two days and an extra half hour later and we’re there (only about 24 hours of flying time spanning 2 days) and crossing half the globe, I think it’s about 20,000 miles (that’s what they tell me anyway).

Michael and I were waiting calmly at the quiet, pretty-much empty Fresno air terminal. First we see Spencer safely on his plane to Portland to be with his cousins for Spring break, then wait just a few minutes more and Michael sees me onto the plane to Los Angeles. We all say a little, tearful family goodbye and go our separate directions.

So far, so good. LAX, long lines at the British Airways counter…waiting….what a sea of humanity. Finally at the front of the line. Here’s the good news, they can bump me up to World Traveler Plus which means I have a little bit bigger seat and a little faster service on the plane. Bad news, I can only carry one piece of hand luggage on the plane. My main bags were checked in Fresno all the way through to Mumbai so they’re safe. I thought I was doing well with the very small carry-on and streamlined purse/laptop briefcase. The man behind the counter asked me if I could fit it all into one bag. I’m thinking, you can see the size of these two bags mister, how is that going to happen? I start rifling through trying to see if I could consolidate. It’s not going to happen. Now I start to sweat. I think he could see my distress, I’m still calm, but wondering what to do. He suggests going around the corner and buying an economical nylon bag that will fit both items. Oh yeah, good idea. So he upgrades my flight, gives me my boarding pass and sends me off to remedy my hand luggage situation. Rushing off to buy the bag, make sure both items fit, good to go. Now rushing to get lunch, I’m really hungry and it’s already 2pm and I have to be at the gate by 2:30. 2:30 comes quickly after a long, long walk to the gate. Delays at the gate, waiting once again…the plane is going to leave 35 minutes late waiting for a fresh crew. OK, I only have an hour and forty minute transfer in London. I won’t worry yet.

The flight goes smoothly. I manage a little sleep, but too agitated to really rest, too much going on, too many thoughts. What will happen next? What will it be like? Where will it lead? What will it be like once I connect with some International Worship Institute friends on the London flight? Lots and lots of thoughts crowd my mind…too many even to calm myself enough to read or watch a movie or meditate or pray silently…so I sit there thinking and wondering…

The captain speaks overhead that we’re making our approach to London Heathrow. He comes on a few minutes later to say that the air traffic is backed up and we’ll have to circle for awhile, probably 15 to 20 minutes. OK, now I’m starting to worry. I only had an hour and forty minutes to make the connection and now it’s narrowed down to 45 minutes. I ask the stewardess about that and she says I should probably have time to make the connection. I explain that I have to go to Terminal 4 to catch the transfer to Mumbai. She gets a concerned look on her face and tells me that if I hurry I will probably make the plane. PROBABLY!!? I question her some more and her final answer is that they’ll (BA) take care of me should I miss my connecting flight. I’m still calm. I’m staying peaceful and knowing that whatever happens, I’ll either get on the plane to Mumbai or I’ll call my cousin Diane in Windsor and ask to stay the night. Either way it’s good, I go onto Mumbai or I visit with my cousins, just like Spencer.

OK, now the plane has circled for 30 minutes and the time gap is shortening. The plane lands at 10:30AM GMT, off the plane by 10:40 and running down the terminal full throttle, following the yellow signs to the tram to Terminal 4. Sitting on the tram and the driver is reading the Daily News!! Come on!!! He’s waiting for everybody and their brother (and their neighbors) to get on the bloody tram! Now I’m getting nervous, the clock is ticking away. It’s 10:55 and my plane leaves at 11:10. I’m beginning to lose my cool. I get off the tram at 11:01 and I can’t believe it; it’s at least a quarter of a mile to Gate 10 where I’m leaving - HELP!! I ran faster and further than I’d run in 30 years. My lungs hurt by the time I reached the gate and I walked on the plane with 3 minutes to spare. I was miserable and truly, truly rattled. My calm and peace and certainty flew right out the window…at least for now. So moments later I meet my IWI companions for the first time, a little ruffled and harried, but happy all the same. And anyway, I had about 8 hours of flying time to regain my composure.

It was exactly 12:30AM in Mumbai when the plane landed, British Airways Flight 139. I heard God say in my heart that as my feet touched the ground to declare His Power and Authority in the land and in the hearts of the people and to feel His Power go out. I prayed this mightily in the silence of my mind and rejoiced at the opportunity to minister so far away from home. Before I left from home I heard Him say to me that the land is crying out, and the people too. The land and the people are stressed and pressed for personal space; depleted, crowded…

As we stepped off the plane, the scent of India hit me. It smelled like a mixture of wet concrete and dirt touched by dampness. It was completely familiar and smelled exactly as I imagined. I felt like I had been here before. We walked down a long hall and I noticed there were few windows in the building, so the smells and mosquitos mingled with the people. We stood our turn in line for Immigration and made it through in record time.

We staggered our way to the baggage claim. My flying companions retrieved their luggage pretty quickly, and then we waited. We waited and mine never came. Then staggering on some more to Customer Relations, my friends waited while I filled out forms. My luggage would probably arrive the next day they said, and if not then, definitely the day after, and if not then, I could file another form to cover the loss. It was very late and I was too tired to care.

My spirits were high. A kind and gentle Indian man walked us through every step of the way. He kept telling us not to worry and exactly what to do and say, past the customs representative in charge of forms, and then to the official looking man, dressed all in white with a turban on top, who looked at me with inquisitive, searching eyes. He looked at my passport, poured over the paperwork in silence, signed the paper and waved us on (all of us). So providence, even though it did not feel like good fortune at that moment, shined on us and we breezed though customs without one zipper being unzipped!

We stepped out of the terminal and onto a broken, dusty sidewalk. The air was slightly damp and a breeze was blowing_hot but not too humid, but thick just the same. There were people everywhere with signs for those they were waiting to pick up. Just then I heard someone say, “Are you Matt?” And Matt said, “You must be Dwayne.” Our worship friends in India had come out to meet us, and a group of them did so warmly. Introductions were made and they pointed toward the waiting cars. By now it was 2AM and we were definitely ready to get to our rooms.

As we walked through the airport parking lot, Indian women in beautifully colored Saris with babies on their hips walked toward us holding out their hands. Cars rushed by just missing each other by an inch. I looked down and noticed the parking lot was cracked and full of potholes. People were milling around talking like it was the middle of the day.

We loaded up and headed to the hotel, driving down narrow little lanes; rickshaws, taxis, trucks with laborers hanging off the back, bicyclists, motorcyclists, pedestrians, and all in the middle of the street crissing and crossing their way through. It seemed chaotic and fast, and yet it flowed. We drove past building after building and shack after shack. The buildings seemed half finished and the shacks had a blue glow from the fluorescence inside. Poverty and crowds, crowds and crowds of people. What were they all doing and where were they going this time of night? Was that someone sleeping on a cot just off the center median? Horns honking everywhere; it’s a form of communication amidst the chaotic flow. The buildings were half built, with partial walls missing and no windows and piles of rubble at the curb. They were dark and grey. Someone explained to me that they don’t even bother painting them anymore because the winds and rains of the monsoon season strip them clean. So dark and dank. And yet, the women were dressed in bright, vibrant Saris and every block or so the buildings were strung with lights and bright orange and red flower garland. Colorful and grey at once. Some trees were covered with flowers like Mimosa and Plumeria and a yellow flower I’ve never seen before.

There was conversation in the background about what time we’d need to get up and when and where breakfast would be and our first team meeting time, but I was immersed in my thoughts and pondering why I was in this land so far from home and what this trip might bring.

We‘ve reached the hotel, let’s all get out and kiss the ground, we made it in one piece, through the crowds and the traffic madness.

A very statuesque Indian man, dressed in a stark, white uniform with gold braid trim, and a very tall Shriner’s-type hat to match, welcomed us with a salute and opened the door and invited us in. The ladies behind the front desk were smiling and dressed in the most beautiful lime green Saris with gold trim. The lobby was beautifully appointed with huge urns of water with bright orange and hot pink petals floating on top. Yes, a land of stark contrasts. From the poverty and grey darkness of the narrow streets to the opulence and bright colors of the Sheraton ITC Mumbai! It’s exotic and surreal…

Thirty hours later and with check-in complete, bed at last! Safe and sound, no luggage, but I’ll deal with that tomorrow. I can’t believe I’m really here!!!