Having done the journey myself several times, and having had a particularly difficult journey the very first time with a nasty accident, I am acutely aware of the perils of travelling by road, but also of God’s grace and protection in carrying me through each time. However it makes me particularly thankful when I am able to benefit from a MAF flight rather than having to make the journey by road. This one turned into a bit of an adventure though, but nonetheless through it we were so aware of God’s hand in the entire journey, His protection and His blessing. It started with a puncture on the way to the airport; not easy in a van carrying a lot of supplies – my driver suddenly said “I think we’re driving on the wheel rim...” and I could certainly agree with that. Thus ensued some gymnastics emptying the van in the middle of the road to get to the spare tyre. Anyone who’s been to Africa knows that generally standing in the middle of the road is not advisable – cars won’t drive round you, they expect you to get out of the way. Then the jack wouldn’t work. So we stood and prayed for the van, and afterwards, everything worked like clockwork, van jacked up, tyre changed, van refilled, and we arrived at the airport within ten minutes. A reminder that we should commit all things to God, and not ask Him as a last resort – it was clearly as though he was just waiting for us to ask, and then all was fine.
An hour later, we were taking off from Tana in the tiny MAF plane. I was fortunate to be able to sit at the front with the pilot. Those of you who know that they won’t even allow me to drive a car in the UK will be relieved to hear that I wasn’t actually allowed to press anything important – great fun nonetheless, taking off and landing with a view through the front window. The MAF plane is tiny, and doesn’t have any radar. Mandritsara is on the other side of a mountain range, and when it’s very cloudy, the flight is difficult because the plane either needs to find a sufficient gap between the clouds to come down so as to be sure not to hit a mountain, or to fly under the clouds from the start – which is difficult because the mountains are quite high, so the gap between mountains and clouds is often quite small. This time, sure enough, it was clear that there wouldn’t be any large breaks in the clouds so we went for the between-the-clouds-and-the-mountains option. The plane was weaving its way through the valleys between the mountains trying to find a good route through, when suddenly we seemed to find ourselves in a bit of a ‘cul-de-sac’. Suddenly through my headset the plane’s systems began to screech “EXTREME DANGER, TERRAIN’. At the same time we were low enough that the turbulence was horrendous, and the pilot was trying to gain control of the aeroplane. Finally at the last moment he managed to lift the nose of the plane, and over the top we went and into the flat Mandritsara valley. One of those moments when you become very aware of your own mortality, but also of the Lord’s protection in carrying that plane and guiding it through to safety. And then I was able to watch the descent as the tiny landing strip came into view, and the folks who’d come to meet us – the hospital folk and also the usual Malagasy ‘welcome committee’ – a colourful procession of about 200 people who live near the landing field and always come out to see the spectacle of the plane when it comes once a month. It was a wonderful feeling to once again be in Mandritsara.
I’ve spent the last few days unpacking and settling in. I’m living on the hospital site; currently in the guest house for short-termers but hopefully some time after Christmas will move to one of the ‘long-termer’ houses, when the building work is complete. The Malagasy are very fond of their ‘Kabary’ – giving formal speeches whenever you’re new somewhere, are leaving, if you’re a guest in someone’s home... So this week has been a week of much standing in front of large groups of people and giving speeches! Hopefully the ‘hello’ Kabary are nearly finished – I’ve just done one this evening to 120 or so assembled hospital and school workers, and have one more big one to do in front of a packed church of 300-400 on Sunday. They’re really not my favourite thing (and they’re all in French) and there is a certain etiquette that has to be followed, so I’ll be quite glad when this round is over. And one of the great benefits of staying for two years, is that it’ll be two years before I have to do the next big lot hopefully! Otherwise, all is well, except that I’m being feasted upon by some rather industrial mosquitoes – unfortunately this always happens despite trying every form of Deet / anti-bug, but this year it does seem particularly bad.
Next time, I’ll recount the saga of The Water, as that deserves a blog post all of its own. But meanwhile, suffice it to say that at the hospital we are managing, however in the village things are pretty dire; there’s been nothing at all for three days now.
---> As an aside, today is in fact the tenth birthday of my corneal transplant. I wouldn't be where I am today without the young motorcyclist who filled out his donor card before he died, particularly because unlike a lot of people, who didn't cross off corneas. There is a huge UK shortage right now, partly because so many cross 'corneas' off their card. Have you made your wishes known and signed the donor register? If not, please consider doing so, and please particularly consider including your corneas. "For I once was blind but now I see" is true for me in both the literal sense and also the spiritual sense.
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