Crossing the Line (0˚ Latitude that is!)

An epic adventure is not complete without the main character overcoming some sort of obstacle at the last minute… and at the last second, when it seems like all is lost coming out triumphant.

Our last day in Quito we spent packing, doing a few last minute interviews, and saying our goodbyes. We had dinner with the Douces and then went to the Casa to record a rap that we had all been working on with the boys… by the time we got back to the guest house it was 1:30 am. So most of us stayed up the rest of the night packing or working on random things until Phil came to pick us up at 4:30am-ish. Because the black market for passports is such big business in Ecuador, several of us had given Phil our passports for safe keeping during our time there- so we had to stop by the Casa on our way to the Airport to pick them up. (They were in a locked safe there.) All of our luggage took up the back half of the car, so we were squished together waiting for Phil when he emerged from the Casa with only 2 of the 3 passports that we needed. (Not everyone had given him their passport) And, if you hadn’t guessed- it was mine that was MIA. Thinking it might be at his house, not the Casa, we raced back to Phil’s place to look for it. As we waited again in the dark of the morning Phil emerged this time with nothing… still unable to locate my passport.

Because our flights were scheduled to leave at 6:30am, we didn’t have anymore time to look… we had to head to the airport so that at least the others could make their planes. We prayed for my passport on the way, although I must admit I wasn’t too pleased with God at this point. I was trying really hard to trust in Him… but I’m human, and I wasn’t too amused at the prospect of being stuck in a third world country over Easter.

As we dropped the group off you would have thought they were taking the last rescue helicopter off of a sinking island- I made sure Dave had my mom’s phone number ‘just case I didn’t make it.’ And Johnny refused to say goodbye because ‘we’re gonna see you on the plane!’ I at this point was crying (if you know me this comes as no surprise) and I got back in the SUV with Phil and my luggage as we headed back to his house to look for the elusive little book that would be my ticket home.

Sitting on Phil’s couch I felt helpless. Steph had told me to keep praying and I was trying- but the minutes kept ticking by and no passport was anywhere to be found. Phil decided to go back over to the Casa and check one more time for it and Debbie kept searching their house. Finally, the phone rang and Phil had found it in the downstairs office at the Casa! I have no idea how or why it was there… but at this point I really didn’t care. We raced to the airport and I’m pretty sure we ran every red light on the way… but we made it.

It was 5:30am.

Checking in the attendants told me to go straight to immigration after I paid my airport tax (they charge you $40 just to leave the airport) because the lines would be long. For some reason the airline Steph was flying took a lot longer to check her in so she stood with me in the line for immigration. As the minutes ticked down I wondered how we were ever going to make it… it seemed like the switch backing line of crying children, weary backpackers, businessmen, and camera clutching tourists went on for miles… all trying to get through immigration and all moving at the speed of molasses.

So, I prayed for an angel.

With 40 minutes till our plane took off I approached one of the men working at the airport and overseeing the line that stood between me and my plane. Upon explaining my plight and pointing to my ticket to make up for my lack of Spanish skills, he told me in broken English that there was nothing he could do (a lie I’m sure) and that I might miss the plane. So we continued to wait.

15 minutes till takeoff.

We had started to accept the fact that we may not make it… but at least Steph and I would have each other, right? And then I saw him. My Angel…. I knew it was him because he was wearing a jacket that said Continental and carrying a walky-talky. (So maybe this wouldn’t scream celestial being to some, but if there was anyone who could part the masses to get us through- it was this guy.) By this point we were probably 15 people from the front of the line… but with takeoff quickly approaching we might as well have been at the back of the line. So, waiving my ticket in the air to catch his eye my Continental angel subtly motioned for us to bypass the rest of the line and come over to the immigration agent he was standing with. As we got our passports stamped he radioed our names to the gate to let them know we were coming. So shouting ‘Gracias, Gracias’ to Continental guy, I left Steph (she was on a different airline) and ran to catch my plane.

The gate agents searched my bag and then told me to hurry since they were basically closing the gates asap! I ran down the tarmac to my plane, (for some reason it wasn’t right in front of the gate.) I had made it.

I was the last one on the plane… and Dave stood up clapping as he came to hug me, and I once again started to cry. The guys had no idea if I’d make it on the plane and weren’t allowed to go back to immigration to look for me in the line. I sat by Johnny on the way to Houston… and I guess he made good on his promise that he would see me on the plane. (With a little help from above!)

And so I’m home. Enjoying the AZ sun and grateful for the wonderful adventure that was Ecuador… 14 Days in Middle Earth!