It was cold that Tuesday night as I boarded the plane at Gerald Ford International Airport in Grand Rapids, Michigan. It would be the last time I would see that city or my dear friends for a while – four months to precise. God’s hand began working right away as Peter and I were offered much grace as we checked in our excess baggage with extremely reduced fees. My adventure thus began as Peter Mollhagen and I journeyed to the Windy City and then across the Atlantic to London, England. It was there that things took an unexpected turn. I blame myself entirely for trusting the word of a flight attendant instead of figuring it out for myself which terminal our flight would leave from two hours after arriving in London. As Peter and I boarded the empty bus to take us to Terminal 3, there was something in my gut telling me that we shouldn’t have been the only ones heading that way. We went through security without having our tickets or passports checked which I also found a bit odd. But after arriving at the terminal and seeing a flight for Bangalore, our next connection, on the screen we make our way to Gate 2 and patiently sat. We enjoyed over an hour and a half of talking and eating wonderful oatmeal cookies (thank you Darlene!) before realizing that there was not a single other traveler in sight. Well past boarding time, we hurried to the nearest employee only to find out we were not only at the wrong gate, but in the wrong terminal. With twenty minutes until departure time, our spirits dropped as she informed us of the eighteen minute bus ride that was between us and our terminal.
Upon arriving at the correct terminal, the security officer informed us that our plane had left and pointed us toward the nearest British Airways customer service representative. He informed us that the next flight to Bangalore did not leave until the next morning and that they could not provide hotel accommodations because our plane had arrived on time. He advised us to go back to American Airlines and see if they would provide the hotel voucher because they were in fact the ones who directed us to the wrong terminal. After graciously waving the $250 ticket transfer fee (each person), we were handed our new boarding passes for the next morning and regretfully made our way back. One at American Airlines customer service, we were informed that they too were unable to provide hotel vouchers but that they did have a flight leaving that night. Unfortunately, that would still make us miss our next connection and result in spending the night at an airport. Wanting to get out of London because of our fear of what a hotel might cost there, we gladly took the tickets to Bangalore for that night (free of charge). The problem with all of this was that our luggage would no longer have been checked through to our final destination and was essentially lost between the different airlines. No one could seem to locate it. We were advised to simply give up looking and once we arrived in Bangalore file a missing bag check. It wasn’t possible for the new airline we were traveling on to have known about our ticket change and get our luggage on board – or so they said.
Once arriving in Bangalore, India we retrieved five out of our six combined bags. Praise God! After filing a missing bag report for one of my bags of clothes and medicine for the kids we made our way to passenger services to try to get another connection for later that day instead of the next morning. The man at the desk pointed us outside to where the ticket windows were for the various airlines. Little did we know that once we left the building there was no coming back. Of course, the airlines couldn’t get us a earlier flight. So there we were, with six pieces of luggage and four carry ons combined standing outside the airport in the quite hot weather. I was very thankful to have had Peter along as he quickly began speaking the native language of Telugu in order to try and find us hotel accommodations. Everyone around wanted to rip us off because they saw that I was American and automatically associated that with being rich. We were also informed that the nearest hotel was about twenty kilometers away.
Only by the grace of God did we stumble across a taxi driver who loaded all of our bags up and took us to the nearest hotel, promising to be there in the morning to return us to the airport. We checked into our room and praised God for the refreshing shower and opportunity to rest. I ended up going to bed around 5pm seeing as it was bedtime back in the States. Unfortunately I was up by 10:30pm and didn’t sleep much in the following hours, but it was wonderful just to rest. We got up around 6am and went to a nearby restaurant for my first Indian breakfast. It was wonderful and a great start to the day. Our taxi driver, not wanting to lose his pay, had slept in his car in the hotel parking lot and was ready to load up our stuff again to drive us back to the airport.
And so, we made the final stretch of our trip on Friday morning and made to Vijayawada, India where Tom Mollhagen was gladly awaiting us. It was refreshing to see him again and realize that I was actually in India. What seemed like the worst possible situation at the time turned out for the best as we arrived at the children’s home with must more rest and energy. I was a bit disappointed to have missed many of the children’s baptisms the day before, but still praising God for his provisions. What a an amazing God we serve.
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