At 1.15am, I turned over and found Nathan sitting up in bed. "What'ya going to do about the flight?" he queried. "Huh. Don't even mention it. I just can't get my head round it." Sam was awake, too. "Did I tell you about this moth?" He linked his thumbs together and waggled his hands. "It was this big, no kiddin'." We chatted backwards and forwards for half an hour. We'd needed this. I was happy that they'd flourish for the remainder of the visit. I was less happy about Steve and Daniel, and my situation, fuelled by Nathan's reasonable suggestion that I should fly out of the State on Monday evening, plus the number of insect bites I'd collected. "There's your cockerel," Nathan commented as sunlight eventually broke through our thin curtains some time after 5.30am.
Putting in my left hearing aid, I was assaulted by a persistent clicking. Broken. Time for a beard trim, then. But the gadget I'd specially brought had gone flat, and I'd risked not bringing the charger. "Apostolic irritations," I muttered. "I expect it happens to other men," Nathan chirped, somewhat deflatingly.
I reviewed my options. Maybe Tuesday's flight back to Kolkata would proceed. Maybe it wouldn't, and I'd have to rebook for 24 hours later. Directly, through our crumby communications situation, or through our agent Travel Solutions? Or something else, like the presidential jet. Yea, right. I went for a short walk, but preparation for the teaching sessions needed to have priority. I sensed a growing conviction that the Holy Spirit counted our visit important.
Colney appeared, expecting us to join him for breakfast, but the rations in the room had been enough. "I had a phone call," he proceeded, "From Butch at Yangon airport asking where everybody was. I rang John Biak, but he'd heard nothing." Butch was flying from the Philippines, and had lined up his arrangement with Daniel G. I knew in Bangalore that Daniel hadn't seen John's email asking for delegate names and arrivals. On our way to the conference, Colney tried to contact Daniel, but didn't get through. More things to patch up.
The Club building we'd hired epitomised 'faded genteel' or 'time-worn colonial', as does so much in India. I smiled at the neat rows of alternating blue and red chairs with gold frames. "Indian wedding chairs! We got offered some of these for the Jesus Centre!" Set-up was easy, and we kept to our programmed right through til the afternoon. Nathan looked around at the empty seats. "Don't worry. It's classic warm-climate culture." I encouraged.
Colony walked up, smiling. "Here, I told you we would get permission." He waved a blue form signed by the Opposition Party leader, requiring safe passage for Mr Ian Greatheart to the airport. "My get-out-of-jail-free card," I laughed. After a cup of chai, we exited into a miserable foggy afternoon, well eligible for an English summer. The Aizawl traffic congestion was equally miserable. Colney pointed out the A.R. (Assam Rifles) Showground, to where he hopes that we will return and stage a major Jesus Festival.
We'd eaten well all day and hardly needed another meal, but the family pressed us. Sam had a great time washing his clothes courtesy of the geyser that had appeared in our bathroom. The energetic 8 o'clock prayer time followed. We were presented with books, shirts and CDs as a token of their appreciation and affection. Keith, who had been prominent in the question time, promised to bring his young peoples' group up tomorrow morning, to practise some songs, and some drama pieces that Sam was hatching. They'll hold a two-hour Church on the Streets on Wednesday morning. Now it's the guys' turn to click in to gear, and they're bubbling with ideas.
When I turned in at 11.30pm, content with the day's progress, Nathan was already a hump under his quilt.
I reviewed my options. Maybe Tuesday's flight back to Kolkata would proceed. Maybe it wouldn't, and I'd have to rebook for 24 hours later. Directly, through our crumby communications situation, or through our agent Travel Solutions? Or something else, like the presidential jet. Yea, right. I went for a short walk, but preparation for the teaching sessions needed to have priority. I sensed a growing conviction that the Holy Spirit counted our visit important.
Colney appeared, expecting us to join him for breakfast, but the rations in the room had been enough. "I had a phone call," he proceeded, "From Butch at Yangon airport asking where everybody was. I rang John Biak, but he'd heard nothing." Butch was flying from the Philippines, and had lined up his arrangement with Daniel G. I knew in Bangalore that Daniel hadn't seen John's email asking for delegate names and arrivals. On our way to the conference, Colney tried to contact Daniel, but didn't get through. More things to patch up.
The Club building we'd hired epitomised 'faded genteel' or 'time-worn colonial', as does so much in India. I smiled at the neat rows of alternating blue and red chairs with gold frames. "Indian wedding chairs! We got offered some of these for the Jesus Centre!" Set-up was easy, and we kept to our programmed right through til the afternoon. Nathan looked around at the empty seats. "Don't worry. It's classic warm-climate culture." I encouraged.
The Salvation Army worship group gave us a strong lead. Colney's introduction, my Multiply presentation and Nathan's two songs all went fine. We met some intelligent questions from the delegates, and spent lunchtime well engaged. Colney later explained that we had some distinguished local delegates. The 40 or so there at the start had swelled to over 100. Mind you, we featured two supporting local choirs in the afternoon. That should up the value of my DVDs! Again, I felt that the teaching on "fathering" would prove pivotal. Sam was brilliant manning the computer, and we'd all obviously pressed some right buttons.
Colony walked up, smiling. "Here, I told you we would get permission." He waved a blue form signed by the Opposition Party leader, requiring safe passage for Mr Ian Greatheart to the airport. "My get-out-of-jail-free card," I laughed. After a cup of chai, we exited into a miserable foggy afternoon, well eligible for an English summer. The Aizawl traffic congestion was equally miserable. Colney pointed out the A.R. (Assam Rifles) Showground, to where he hopes that we will return and stage a major Jesus Festival.We'd eaten well all day and hardly needed another meal, but the family pressed us. Sam had a great time washing his clothes courtesy of the geyser that had appeared in our bathroom. The energetic 8 o'clock prayer time followed. We were presented with books, shirts and CDs as a token of their appreciation and affection. Keith, who had been prominent in the question time, promised to bring his young peoples' group up tomorrow morning, to practise some songs, and some drama pieces that Sam was hatching. They'll hold a two-hour Church on the Streets on Wednesday morning. Now it's the guys' turn to click in to gear, and they're bubbling with ideas.
When I turned in at 11.30pm, content with the day's progress, Nathan was already a hump under his quilt.
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