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We got out of bed at about 3:30 a.m. after not sleeping much, if at all. We’d been up until 2:30 a.m. packing. We quickly showered and finished our last-minute packing and loading. James Donnell was kind enough to drive us all the way to the Tulsa airport (not quite two hours away from our Arkansas home). He had to leave his house at 4:15 a.m. to get to our house so we could leave for Tulsa at 5:00 a.m. He said he got to bed about 12:30 a.m. so he was tired, too. Our Sequoia was absolutely loaded (thanks so much, Jim, for this wonderful favor). We all got a kick out of my getting the hiccups partway into our journey to Tulsa. They lasted for about an hour!
When we got to the airport, a porter helped us haul all our luggage into the terminal. Some rules for luggage had changed since Wendy had spoken to the airlines in February. At that time, the weight limit for luggage was 70 pounds. The ticket clerk, however, informed us as of March 1, the weight limit was now 50 pounds. This was very bad news since we had carefully packed things to be as close to 70 pounds as we could be without going over. We had distributed the weight among our various bags and boxes and now were told that all that work was for nothing. We protested and shared that both their website and personnel told us the limit was 70 pounds. After conferring as to when we purchased the ticket, she relented and allowed us the 70 pounds. This saved us some money as there are some decent fees for going over the weight limit.
We had a nasty breakfast of fruit and orange juice in the airport. The boys were eager to explore and experience everything. This was the first flight for the boys (except Trevor who traveled when he was just a few months old). They could not wait to get on board the plane.
I had arranged the seating so that Shane, Austin, and Trevor would all have window seats. They were so excited. Just before we took off, I turned back to look at Trevor. I asked, “Are you excited?” Grinning from ear to ear, face beaming, he nodded his head vigorously. Austin was eager to get into some turbulence. Shane had his head glued to the window. I had always wondered why flight attendants took time to explain how the seatbelts buckle – it is a very simple exercise. Austin had buckled his with no problem but was experiencing some difficulty in unbuckling it. After struggling with it for a few minutes, he finally asked me how to unbuckle it. I showed him how. At least now I know why they explain it. It was pretty fun for Wendy and I to watch.
The flight from Tulsa to Dallas was one of the smoothest flights I’ve experienced. I was glad for this for the boys’ sake.
We had a four and a half-hour layover in Dallas. We spent a good deal of it talking with a woman from Belize whom we had met in Tulsa. She and her husband were career missionaries. She was originally from northwest Ohio and had moved to Belize when she got married. She has done mission work in a variety of countries and spoke fluent Spanish. She gave me some good tips on the Spanish language. For example, I had used the word “coche” referring to a car. She laughed and said that only means “car” in Mexico. In El Salvador and other countries it means “pig.” I’m glad I didn’t say “nice coche” to the folks who picked us up at the airport! Her flight left and we grabbed a bit to eat at Taco Bell. This would be our last “American meal” for a while. We spent the rest of our layover having a family outing at the Dallas/Ft. Worth International Airport. They boys were full of energy and Wendy and I struggled to stay awake. We would close our eyes for just a minute and the boys would be gone! They were always close by, but it was a challenge.
Stepping on board Taca Airlines flight 441 for San Salvador I was immediately greeted with the word “Gringo” and some other words I did not understand. Some nearby chuckled at what he said. He did not realize that my seat would be right next to his. He spoke no English and I spoke no Spanish. At one point he tried to strike up a conversation. I told him that we were from the “Iglesia de Adventista” (the Seventh-day Adventist Church). He said, “Oh,” and turned his head to look out the window. We did not converse much.
On the plane, we Americans were definitely the minority. The signs were in Spanish with English subtitles. The forms we had to fill out were difficult to understand. The flight attendants made their announcements first in Spanish and then in difficult-to-understand English.
The airport in San Salvador was actually somewhat small which I found surprising for a capital city. The gift shops, though, were outstanding – much better than in US airports. Coming to customs, they split us into two groups. Shane and I were ushered to one group and Wendy and the boys were ushered to another. We had no issues.
Next was the random luggage search. They don’t want folks bringing new goods into the country to sell. It hurts their economy. We had many things that would make it look like we were going to sell items. We had 100 bars of soap, 100 boxes of colored pencils, 100 pairs of scissors, 33 hole punchers, and craft items galore. They have a device that looks like a traffic light with two lights: red and green. I had been watching as others went to the light and pressed the button just below the lights. After the button was pressed, it would either light green or red. If it lit up green, you could go through without inspection. If it lit red, you get searched. I approached the light and pressed the button. You guessed it – red light. We had 11 pieces of luggage plus my camera and the kids’ backpacks. The agent only wanted to search one piece of luggage so he picked the top item – a great big box containing much of our craft items. Wendy began to pray.
The agent had me open the box. He looked inside and picked up some of the craft items. “What is this?” he asked. In perfect Spanish I said, “For children of the Adventist Church.” In perfect English he said, “donation?” I said “Yes.” He then asked for the paperwork to prove it was for what I said it was for. I pulled out an e-mail I just happened to print before leaving, explaining the program. It was 10 pages long and he did not want to read it. “Okay,” he said. “Go on through.” (They did not want to search Wendy so they let her through without having to press the button on the lights.)
Even though we were told someone would be waiting for us, we really had no idea if anyone would be there or not. As we walked out there was a crowd of people all looking for other people. I saw some gentlemen holding up a sign with “Scott Cassell” on it. I pointed to them and waved. They pointed to the end of the line and asked me to meet them there. As we walked through the crowd of people, folks were trying to get us to purchase things. One guy was even selling what appeared to me to be a lottery ticket.
We were happy to meet Pastor Cruz, Victor (our translator), and Carlos (the driver). I hoped that they had brought a big car because we really did have a lot of stuff. He had a van. They put our luggage up top and in the back. There was enough room for us as well.
The drive to the hotel seemed to take forever. We passed some tin-sheet homes. We passed one store with an armed guard out front. He had a rifle and was ready to shoot it. Traffic here is amazing. There are few lights and stop signs. You just kind of merge in. If you have a nice car, you lose all ties. The junky cars get the right of way.
 The hotel is quite acceptable. We have two rooms that adjoin. There is a refrigerator and a microwave. The floors are ceramic tile. Pastor Bill Tucker of The Quiet Hour told me that this hotel is about as good as it ever gets for mission trips. We feel very fortunate.
We were told upon arrival to the hotel that the rooms we were to occupy had been paid for by the local church. I protested for quite some time and in a variety of ways. They assured me, however, that this was the case and that they did not want me to pay for the rooms. They said the church was paying for everyone’s rooms. It seemed somewhat incredible that the local church would buy out the hotel for everyone for 20 straight days. I learned the next day that this was not correct and had to cough up my credit card number. Oh, well.
Pastor Cruz, Victor and I had a meeting to talk about the meetings. I told him the sermons they sent me were about an hour long in English. He said that the total sermon time must be one hour and no more, or people won’t come back for the second meeting. Pastor Cruz pastors 11 churches with a combined membership of about 700 people. According to Victor, he raised up most of these churches. As such, I didn’t argue about the sermon length. What it means, though, is that I must cut half of each of my 18 sermons. This will be quite a bit of work.
We also learned that our meetings will be held outdoors in the open air. The children’s meetings will be held about 15 meters from the edge of the crowd. Making crafts without tables is Wendy’s challenge.
They are expecting about 300 people for the meetings (this includes the children).
I had prayer with the pastor, Carlos, and Victor. I prayed for each individually and asked God to bless them. Pastor Cruz and Carlos, of course, didn’t understand a word I said since they don’t speak English. Victor, however, when he looked up after I said, “Amen” had eyes about to spill over with tears. He seemed appreciative that I would pray for him specifically.
We unpacked a little and got into bed. We were very tired. We closed our day with prayer. |
