Wowza!

I’m going to go ahead and write this blog post while it’s rolling around in my head, though I honestly have NO idea if and when it will ever get posted. Some wise person told us to record our thoughts and impressions and take lots of pictures while everything was fresh and new to us because soon, it would all seem normal. At this point, I find that incredibly hard to believe. But, since I respect this person, I’m going to take their word for it and try to chronicle a little bit of our arrival.

Our flights went well. Much better than I expected. The only thing that was a struggle was sleeping. We didn’t do much of that. Between 5 kids and the flight attendants offering something to whoever was still awake, sleep was scarce. So, by the time we landed, we were beyond exhausted. Our bodies were convinced that it was about 9PM, but the clock in our new country read 6AM.

As we waited in the immigration line, we discussed how well everything had gone and how we could tell that the kids were reaching the fragile state, so we hoped the next few hurdles would go smoothly. But you know, God has a way of giving us what we need and not what we want and the next few hours certainly proved that.

When the immigration officer called us forward we stepped up in full confidence, knowing that we had our visas in our passports and we were good to go. Then, the officer asked to see our paperwork. We were confused, we didn’t have any paperwork. We’d sent it to the embassy, gotten the visa, and here we were! They proceeded to explain that all of the paperwork the embassy received was supposed to be in a sealed envelope, addressed to the consulate, and we were supposed to produce it at that moment. We looked at each other in horror because we knew that we had handed that 3 pound stack of papers to our supervisor in Canada and asked him to shred it for us, because it contained so much personal information.

At that point things got really hairy. Kids started crying, phone calls started flying, uniformed people started using words like deport. It was not good. In the meantime, about 50 feet away, our luggage was going round and round the carousel as we watched and prayed that we would be able to get to it.

After a while, they took Ryan back to a room to discuss our options and they sent me to go and start claiming baggage with my 5 children. There was a sea of porters wanting to help us and I was totally overwhelmed. There were bags stacked all over and so one porter started gathering his friends and they pulled then together. I counted, and recounted, and then counted again, only to discover that we were missing 3 bags. So, as Ryan was getting our passprots seized, I was trying to fill out baggage claim forms and my kids were trying hard to hold Abe together as they alternated bouts of crying. It was horrific.

After what seemed like a very long time, even though it was probably only an hour or so, we were told we could leave and given a sheet of paper with our passport numbers on it, but no passports. Next came customs, where an officer insisted that he was not letting us leave until he searched our bags or provided him with a detailed packing list. We kept saying, there are 7 of us, we are moving here, they are household goods, clothes, book, etc., etc., etc. Praise the Lord, that gal that had come to help us out with her trusty phone and embassy contacts had greeted a man earlier who told the man that we were his friends and to let us go. So, miraculously, he waved us on.

At this point, I was exhausted, stressed, and it was time for our drive home. We had been told that the drive could vary based on the traffic, checkpoints, etc. Let’s just say, that the rhythym that had begun the day continued on our way home. Both of our colleagues who traveled with us said that they think we may now hold the record for the longest drive home from the capital city, and it took between 6 and 7 hours. We got stopped at so many checkpoints by so many officers in so many different kinds of uniforms that it was almost comical. Then, about 2/3 of the way, Lily got horribly carsick and began vomiting. It was traumatic.

Fortunately, things began to improve from there. We arrived at our new home to many friendly faces who were all eager to greet us and welcome us. Our house was covered in balloons and colorful paper chains. The beds were made up, there was a starter supply of foods, and it was obvious that we were welcome.

Our first morning here, Ryan and I both woke up, anxious about our situation. We knew that if we couldn’t secure those papers in a timely fashion, we were going home and that was a heavy weight. But, we both spent some time in God’s word and then dialogued about what we felt he was saying to us. Though we were in different places in scripture, we both were reminded that none of the previous day’s events were a mistake. God was certainly aware of everything we’d faced. We had not willfully made a mistake with the visa paperwork and God was going to do his will, whatever that may be.

Later in the day, we were able to get in touch with our supervisor and we found out that he had not yet shredded the necessary documents. So, I’m happy to report that they’re on their way and we’re prayerful that we’ll see them soon and be able to get all of this mess resolved.

The last couple have days have been spent attempting to unpack, shop, establish phones, internet, etc. I can’t wait to share a little bit about the learning curve that the last few days has involved. But, that’s a whole ‘nother post. I am very hopeful that sleep will come tonight as it’s been avoiding me our first 2 nights here, so I’m off to bed!