Back in Africa

This may come as a surprise to those of you that heard we were just back in Canada! We want to thank all of you that so willing hosted us, feed us and encourage us while we were home. To the rest of you our sincerest apologies for not being able to catch up with you, we would have loved to see and hear what is going on in your lives. There truly wasn't enough hours in the days we were in Canada to accomplish all that we wanted to. In the future we hope to be a little more faithful in keeping all of you up to date in the comings and goings of the Goertzens in Angola!

Our first story starts even before we got back to Africa. It is a saga of trust misplaced and redemption unwarranted. Of a man, his wallet...and an airport. It all started on a cold rainy Friday afternoon in the English countryside in a tiny Renault Cleo, that's a car, from Europe, more specifically...France. It was loaded to the brim with the luggage of two weary travels heading out from a conference that had been fraught with intrigue. (Sounds better then saying it was just a program managers meeting for MAF, don't ya think? ) The negotiations had been exhausting but had yielded several excellent contacts and opportunities. The trip to the airport was uneventful as they drove through the ever present rain and even managed to negotiate that parking lot known as the M25 highway in relatively good time. My driving partner, we'll call him Steve, cause that's his name, pulled up in front of terminal 5 at Heathrow airport where we proceeded to unloaded my luggage, 3- 25 kilo bags, one carry-on and a computer bag that could have doubled as a steamer trunk. What can I say, I like to pack light. I said good bye to Steve, cause that's his name, and pushed my trolley into the terminal to get out of the rain, amongst other things. As I approached the check in counter I reached for my wallet and passport. It was to be a memorable moment as time slowed, the lights seemed to dim and the voices of my follow airport dwellers became strangely muted. It was like my hand was moving in slow motion from pocket to pocket searching for that black folio containing my travel documents and identification. The search was to prove to be in vain, for the wallet was no where to be found. The terminal began to spin crazily as I came to grips with the situation. No wallet, no passport... I quickly spun the trolley around and headed outside to see if Steve, cause that's his name, was still outside. The Cleo was gone, having beat a hasty path to Terminal 4 to catch a flight to Entebbe, Uganda. I whirled the trolley around as deftly as Barishnikov twirling a prima ballerina from the Bolshoi and headed inside to make a plan. I decided to give Steve a call, cause that's his name, but in the best twists of the cold war we hadn't exchanged contact information to minimize our traceability. It was looking like that had been a mistake. I had no way to contact Steve. I spun around and headed outside the terminal and into the rain again to see if Steve had returned in the Cleo to pronounce, "Good thing you aren't in charge of the Maltese Falcon, or the Royal Jewels or something important. Here's your wallet go catch your flight!" It was only a fleeting fantasy, I was not to see Steve or the little french Cleo again. I spun the trolley around and made for the terminal. The porters were beginning to wonder if I had developed a case of vertigo with all the trolley spinning that was going on. The stench of panic was becoming unmistakable, my mouth was dry, my palms were sweaty and my heart was racing. PULL yourself together man! This is no worse then the time you arrived in Luanda with the trots and there was no paper in the stall. THINK MAN, THINK!! Once again I whirled the trolley around to head outside and assess the situation. The trolley was beginning to protest like a bull at a rodeo desperate to throw its rider to the mud, but I wasn't letting go, there was too much at steak...or stake. Once again outside in the rain I gazed over to where we had loaded my bags onto the trolley. There was something laying on the ground. Flaunting all airport regulations I abandoned my luggage and headed across the road, making sure that I first looked to the right so as not to get clobbered by a London cabby. My heart raced as I approached what could turn out to be somebodies trash. It WAS somebodies trash...MY TRASH, MY WALLET, face down on the soaking pavement having been completely ignored by countless people and driven over by who knows how many cars? Everything was inside, Id, credit cards, passport with the all important Angolan residency visa. As I recounted this tale to my wife she had these words for me, "I worry more about you when you travel then the kids!" I have to admit she has reason to be that way, but I pray a lot and that helps. I prayed a lot that day. I really believe that God protected my wallet that day, cause He cares about even the little things.

Be it ever so humble....there's no place like HOME!!!!

Wow!! After an odyssey lasting almost three months we were finally able to make it back to our home in Lubango early Saturday morning. Apparently at 1:32am to be exact, because that is when Brent, our other MAF pilot, says he looked at his clock when we knocked on his door to wake him up to get the key to get into our house.

The drive from Windhoek to Lubango was one of the most eventful trips we have ever had. Tammy almost got hit when she was making a right turn by someone that decided to pass her on the right in an intersection. That certainly got the heart going, fortunately there was no collision. We were also bringing back a truck that we had bought online last November from Dubai, Matthew was torn between who to ride with...not really, the new truck won! We discovered at a police check point that in the fine print of the temporary Namibian transfer license you are not allowed to carry passengers or goods, $50US dollars later we were on our way. Matthew was thoroughly enjoying the fact that I now had a receipt that was emblazoned across the top with, "ADMISSION OF GUILT"!!

Later that day we arrived in Ondangwa, which is a town in Namibia about 50km from the border with Angola. At the motel where we stayed that night the clerk led us to our rooms and upon opening the door to our room quickly discovered that the man already asleep in the room did not want to share it...ooops. The following day we set off for the border with all of our documents organized and ready to zoom through and head for home. Okay, okay I know some of you are laughing, zoom through the border!? Riiiight! Well the immigration part went smoothly and the police part went smoothly, but the customs ...not so smoothly. About four hours later we were on our way to pass through the gates to Angola. On the Angolan side immigration went smoothly after we discovered that Tammy had had her purse stolen on the Namibian side, fortunately our passports weren't in it or we would have been caught between the borders with no documents. I don't even want to think about how that would have gone. The police part went smoothly, customs...not so smoothly. Three days later we were on our way home at 5:30pm after they gave us our documents minutes before the border closed on Friday. Yahoooo only 360km to go and we would be home!!! In case you are wondering why it took 8 hrs to complete what normally is a 3 1/2 hour drive for some of you, there is a reasonable explanation. First of all, it was dark and you have to slow down for all the people and animals,which I guess you have to do in the day as well, its just harder to see them at night. Secondly, it's rainy season which means you actually have to drive on the road instead of in the ditch, which is normally in much better condition, but is now filled with water. One 95 km section took about 4 hours to navigate of which one 20km part took an hour and a half. We are hoping to drive out on this same road with my (Gary's) mom in April. It's not that I don't like my mom, I love her a lot, we just thought that after she went skydiving with us the last time she visited we needed to come up with another memorable experience.
All said and done, we are thrilled to be home for the short time we have here before heading to Canada. We look forward to seeing you this summer, please let us know if we can drop in for a visit when we are in your area. In the next few weeks we hope to be able to post a bit of a schedule of the places we will be visiting.

YAHOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!

This is just a quick note to let you all know that our prayers have been answered and our passports with visas are on their way to us in Namibia!!! This doesn't mean we can stop praying because they are still not in our hands. We have had the experience of our passports wandering around the world for a couple weeks as they tried to find their way back to us. If everything goes well we should see them the middle of next week and then be heading back to Lubango, possibly arriving on that Sunday. We truly want to thank you all for your prayers and notes of encouragement, they have meant and do mean a lot. When we left Angola at the beginning of December last year, we had no idea that we would spend almost three months waiting to return. Has it been a waste of time? Absolutely not, God has used this time to teach us many things about Himself and ourselves that we would have missed if He wouldn't have forced us to sit still and listen. Thank you all again!