|
|
"Perfecting" Patience, Part 1
MORE BLESSED TO GIVE ...
It must have been the 23rd visit to DGAC (Direccion General de Aeronautica Civil). The traffic driving across town had especially exasperated me that morning. Why did I have to deal with this bureaucratic nonsense day after day?
I parked the car and got my visitor badge from the guard booth. Today it was the badge with the broken and re-tied lanyard that would barely fit over my head. Having the big gaudy tag just inches below my chin didn’t help me feel more generous.
|
|
|
Dirección General de Aeronautica Civil (DGAC)
|
|
This morning Millie was not at her the desk. Her assistant looked up reluctantly from a stack of papers she was sorting and answered my greeting guardedly.
“May I speak with Don Jairo please?” I asked.
“Why?” she questioned suspiciously.
My mind flipped incredulously through the dozens of times she had heard me say the same words over the last two months. I forced a smile through my impatient thoughts.
“Well, you see, it's about my pilot’s license conversion,” I replied as casually as I could, not wanting to be sarcastic.
|
|
|
International Tribal Ministries' Cessna 206 in the central Bolivia lowlands. DJ's first landing as a Bolivian pilot.
|
|
“Well….” She said in a disapproving tone, looking up sharply. “Do you have all the requirements?”
My mouth opened to snap back, but thankfully no intelligible Spanish words came out for a few seconds…
“Well, if there was a list of requirements…” I began a bit sharply and then tried to recover. “….That, er, ah, that would be great,” I finally stammered trying to fake a smile.
I immediately felt ashamed for what I had said and even more for what I had thought... If there was a written list of requirement for this stupid process, it would have saved me from seeing your grumpy face every day for the last month!!!
|
|
I took a seat for the obligatory twenty-minute wait to be called upstairs. Most times I resented it but today I needed to cool down. A thought from earlier that week came back to me:
It is more blessed to give than to receive (Acts 20:35).
|
|
|
Landing Oromomo, an indigenous village with Tony Murrin in the ITM Cessna 206.
|
|
I certainly hadn’t received anything from DGAC, not even my rights! But could I be blessed by simply giving? Giving time, giving kindness, re-gifting Grace? Perhaps a little piece of heaven’s atmosphere could be brought into that lobby every day. What challenges did these people face outside of these walls? How would it be to shuffle reams of paper everyday? Where did they find meaning in life?
The twenty minutes flew by. When I was finally called upstairs for my 23rd visit, I felt as good as if Don Jairo had handed me a Bolivian pilot’s license.
|
|
THIS LITTLE LIGHT ...
The morning rain made a light patter on the roof of the jeep as a poncho-clad vehicle inspection officer worked her way down the line of cars. I hopped out of the jeep with what I’m sure was a relieved smile. My two-and-a-half-hour wait was over...
“Give me your ID card,” the officer demanded. After examining it, she handed it back. “We aren’t going to do your inspection; your address is in a different part of the city,” she said bruskly, turning to go.
|
|
“But ma’am, I’ve been waiting a long time….” I protested in the softest voice I could muster.
As she walked away I felt a surge of adrenaline. I won’t give in this time, I growled silently. It was my fourth time in a vehicle inspection line in two days. Threats were normal, excuses were common, anything to extract a bribe. Thankfully I knew the law enough to see through this latest ploy. I pondered going to the office to inform the boss of her legal obligations but decided against it. Bolivians always protest in groups. There is safety in numbers.
|
|
I must be a light, I thought, and started whistling the Negro Spiritual “This little light of mine.” Gradually the urge to yell in someone’s face subsided and the knot in my stomach loosened a bit. Why did I not feel any more patient than two months ago? Hadn’t I had lots of practice? In fact, practicing patience seemed like my full time job; I should be good at it by now. If the “little light” of the Negro song writer could shine in the darkest midnight of evil, injustice and oppression, my “little light” should be able to survive a few raindrops.
__ __ __
|
|
|
Thanksgiving Day - Literally!
Don Ramiro (Pilot Examiner) on the left. Don Jairo (Licensing) on the right.
|
|
Epilogue: November 15, 2018 DJ passed the check ride for Commercial and Instrument Single Engine Land. A week later on Thanksgiving Day he received his long awaited Bolivian Pilot's License!
The following week DJ started orientation training with Tony Murrin, Director of International Tribal Ministries, in ITM's Cessna TU206G. Tony has a lot of wisdom that he is willing to pass on, gained over several decades of experience as a mission pilot in Bolivia for which we are grateful.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|