
I don't even know how to begin to blog about today. A Qantas Airlines lady stopped Amy and me during our layover in Cains and asked why I didn't have a visa. We were told by our PNG contacts that visas were available upon arrival, but apparently this was faulty information for me, a non-US citizen.
Two hours, two long-distance phone calls to Janyce (our boss), a jaunt to the authorized-personnel-only baggage area, several calls to PNG and Australia immigration, and several jokes about the Tom Hanks movie
The Terminal later, Amy boarded the plane to PNG.
Alone.
That's right. Amy went ahead and proceeded as planned, leaving me with Mark (a very nice Qantas guy). Mark and I threw around several options and within half an hour of Amy's departure, I was on a Cairns-Sidney flight. Within a few hours of THAT, I was on my way to Manila. Yep, we figured out that the easiest thing for me to do was leave Australia (since I didn't have a visa for there, either) and fly ahead to Manila.
So here I am, at my parents' missions' guesthouse. Tomorrow, my grandparents are picking me up and I'm going to spend the week with them. Amy arrives Saturday night.
This is unbelievable.
(Here's the truth: Before this trip, Amy and I bragged incessently that we haven't lost luggage, missed any flights, etc... As you can see from this post and the post about Vancouver, pride comes before fall. Who would've ever thought one of us would come close to being
deported?)
Let's hope Amy posts about PNG soon!
note: Neither Houghton College (I imagine) nor I mean for this post to be read as an endorsement of The Terminal. I referred to this film simply because I've been compared to Tom Hanks about 8 times today, and I don't even remotely resemble him.