Hello everyone! I planned to write you on the flight last night, but unfortunately, we didn’t have Wi-fi on the flight. So, because of this, I am writing you now.
Last night, our flight was delayed from 6:10 to 7:50, so our 3 hour 44 minute flight landed quite late. To add on top of this, the jet way at Managua airport was broken, and it was not promised that we would get out of the plane any time soon. So, the airport first rammed a truck into the jet way to stop it from running into the ground. This didn’t work, so they used a forklift, which successfully lifted the plane after about 15 minutes of struggle. The pilot of our plane said this was quite amusing to watch.
After our flight, we happily deboarded the plane, only to find that our customs document had not been filled out by either of my parents. They had both thought the other was going to fill it out. So, we returned to the plane against the flow of the regular passengers, and we grabbed a customs form. Not long after, we handed over the completed form to an immigration official, who was dressed in scrubs like a nurse.
After the ordeal with the customs and immigration declaration, we passed a thermal camera to check for fever and we rode an escalator down to the immigration offices. We gave them the required fee, smiled for the camera, and got a stamp in our passport before being waved through.We then walked into baggage claim and got our 5 checked bags to add to our 4 carry-ons. Many of these are donations or materials we are bringing for them. A man helped us lug the baggage through customs, whom we paid the coveted several American dollars.
After this, we were picked up by our good friend Pastor Jairo and his two sons, who took us to the rent-a-car stand. After signing a good stack of papers, we walked out with our luggage to the bustling, congested street outside the airport to the rental car van. It took us a little jog down the road to a lot where a Hilux truck was brought to us. It was thoroughly inspected by Pastor Jairo, my father, and a salesman, which was the custom. After marking up all the dings and dents, we climbed in, my parents in the front seat, myself, Pastor Jairo and Jairo’s son in the back seat, and Pastor Jairo’s other son in the truck bed watching over the luggage. Where the roads were not bumpy, they were littered with large speed bumps. After two hours on these roads, we happily collapsed on a warm bed in a hostel in which we have stayed before.
And it is in that hostel that I am blogging now. We plan to help the local church with a feeding for kids. I don’t have much time to give you prayer requests, but I will be updating you soon again. Thanks for tuning in!