SEBBC Missions Trip: Day 15

We travel home today.  Pastor Carlos meets us at the hotel to say goodbye.  It is a long winding road to Tegucigalpa, the nation’s capital, to the country’s only commercial airport. We expect it to take 3 or 4 hours.  We leave early.  Along the winding mountain roads, two suitcases spill out of the back of the pickup.  Thankfully no one is hurt.  Brother Ritchie drives the lead rental vehicle (one of two rentals we had) to our destination. Brother Ritchie wants to check on his broken Kia which was supposed to have been repaired in time for him to drive back home, after returning the missions team’s rental vehicles (after all, it would be a long walk back to the property way back in Choluteca).  The trip to the repair shop takes longer than expected.  We make it to the airport in a rush.  The Hertz representative inspects the vehicles and finds minor damage on each.  We dispute it.  Rental agents have a reputation for extracting as much money from Americans as they can.  They concede the damage on the truck is old, but we are forced to accept the damage on the van.  Time is ticking…
 
We are told at the airport we are boarding already.  We rush through security. The boarding pass machine flashes that we are too late to board the plane.  The Delta agent at the counter, however, hurries us to our plane, giving us some hope that we might make it.  We have to pay an exit tax at a separate counter of $38 to leave.  This takes longer.  We are told the plane is boarding.  We race upstairs.  I move the fastest to try to keep the plane from leaving without the group…if I can.  As I pass through security, an announcement over the PA system rings through out the entire airport: “Zackary Dressner.  Please remain where you are and identify yourself.”  My stomach drops.  Ut oh.  That’s me.  You might think I am making this up.  I wish I was joking.  I pass through the remaining security check point, acting cool, while considering my next step.  I do make 2 attempts at identifying myself, but the security people, didn’t understand the anouncement that was made in English and they don’t understand me, either.  Again, I hear, “Zackary Dressner.  Please remain where you are and identify yourself.” The rest of the group trickles up to my location.  I learn that a football in my baggage set off an alarm.  Pastor Krohn who had remained below had to open my bag, deflate the ball, and sign off on it.  I guess partially inflated footballs aren’t allowed on planes.  I didn’t make the Honduras most wanted list after all! Phew. I ask the man at the Delta boarding reception desk to get on the plane.  Thankfully, it was NOT boarding yet.  We had been misinformed.  Within 10 minutes, they begin boarding us. I am thankful to be on the plane home.  A transfer, and another flight, and, finally, home!  The group is safe.  The adventure ends.  I miss the children.  I miss Pastor Carlos. But it is good to be home.  We are safe.  I am exhausted.