Almost Home

I scanned through the 40 questions on the paper test in front of me, trying to calculate whether I’d answered at least 28 right. Many of the problems had been familiar, but to my dismay I’d come across a good number of ones that I’d either forgotten or hadn’t seen before. Part of the difficulty of the test was the basic grammar of the questions. Gary said they’d been translated into Indonesian from English, and then back into English from Indonesian! Some were based on the Civil Aviation Safety Regulations (CASRs) which were borrowed from the U.S. FARs, so that helped, but others were from sources I would have no way of finding. I had no idea what Annex 2 was, for instance, and what it had to do with the high seas, if anything. So having done my best to study the prep material I’d been provided, I followed Gary’s advice on the test to keep praying and answering.

Last train ride - for now. Glad to be done for the time being!

I decided I’d answered the questions as best as I could so I caught the attention of the proctor and traded my completed air law test for the meteorology test. I felt much more confident on that one, although I realized afterward that I’d messed up on at least a few. Oh well, all that matters is that I get the 70% necessary to pass!

As far as if I’d passed or not? “The results will get sent directly to your organization,” the proctor informed me as I turned in my last gradesheet. “Do you have any idea when the results will come?” I queried. He shrugged his shoulder with a sheepish look on his face. “I don’t know…I can ask later, but maybe one week.” My eyebrows went up. “Or less,” he quickly added. Phooey. Ah well, weren’t you saying something about patience, Michael?

Time for some swapping around.

If patience is a quality for a missionary to acquire, flexibility is an attribute that he must increasingly exercise. As I got out of my exam, I discovered my latest opportunity to be flexible. “How much do your suitcases weigh?” Choqky asked me. After we briefly sorted out pounds to kilos, he told me why he was asking. “The airline you’re going on to Papua only allows 1 suitcase of 20 kilos. So maybe you can rearrange what you’ve packed and take the most important things in one suitcase and the other suitcases will get shipped by boat next week.” Lovely. If there’s one thing I’d rather do when traveling, it’s keep all my belongings together. I’ve already lost a suitcase in Africa and don’t really want to do a repeat. But when I found out the extra baggage fee - $10 per kilo - it was pretty obvious why the boat was the best option.

Simon! The awesome mechanic from Costa Rica.

As I was pondering what I would bring in my one suitcase - isn’t everything important? - I got a welcome surprise. I was going to be traveling with Simon, a mechanic who would be giving Gary some much-needed help with work on the planes. Knowing how many suitcases I’d brought, Gary was checking with him if he was traveling with luggage - and he wasn’t, so he could check a second bag for me! I couldn’t be happier. It made the job much easier as I rearranged my belongings between suitcases that afternoon.

That brings us to today. After checking out of the hotel this morning, I tagged along with Choqky for one more metro ride to downtown to order some appliances for the mission base. Then back to pick up the suitcases and head out to the airport to meet Simon and catch our flight to Papua. It’ll be a red-eye flight, but I’m stoked that we’ll be landing at 7:40 a.m. which means I’ll actually be able to see my new surroundings as I arrive, rather than everything being black and generic. So here we go. I’ve been on the road for 2 weeks since leaving California and I’m ready to get to Papua. So on to…home.

One more semi-sleepless night to go.

Welcome to Indonesia!

The Dreamliner.

I gazed with keen interest at the sleek interior of the Japan Air Lines Boeing 787 that I had just climbed aboard. This was my first time to fly on the Dreamliner and I was pretty stoked that both international legs were going to be on the same type of plane. There was plenty of legroom, nice soft lighting, a cabin that apparently had more humidity than regular metal-body planes, and - oh yes! those huge passenger windows that didn't have pull-down shades, but instead a magical dimming function operated by the press of a button. I happily settled down into my seat and buckled up for the trip.

Umpteen hours, and a very sore posterior later we were finally descending through the night toward Jakarta Soekarno-Hatta International Airport. I peered out the window, straining to catch a view of this new country, but there were only a few lights scattered in the murk and nothing much to see. A few moments later we were on the ground and the humidity immediately fogged the windows, blocking any more sightseeing of the airport.

It's always encouraging to see the rainbow, a reminder of God's care.

Our flight was early, but the length of the immigration line more than made up for gained time. As I inched closer to the front, I eyed the officers apprehensively, trying to guess if there would be any difficult questions to deal with. There were none. I stepped forward, gave my passport, the officer stamped it, and I was in Indonesia.

By the time I emerged from immigration, all the luggage from my flight had long been claimed, except for mine. An airport staff member was wandering around calling my name for me to get my pile of suitcases. Piling it all on a cart, I made my way through customs and then sent a message to Choqky, AAI’s operations manager who would be picking me up. Thank God for WiFi!

Grins all around. With Choqky, Operations Manager.

I stood awkwardly for a moment near the exit looking down  at my phone to see if he’d replied when I heard a friendly voice. “Are you Michael Lombart?” I looked up at the smiling face and grinned back. “You must be Choqky.” Choqky had been doing a lot of stuff behind the scenes with my paperwork and it was great to finally meet the guy who had helped get me to Indonesia.

Choqky helped me lug my suitcases over to a taxi and then got me to the hotel room where I’d be staying for my time in Jakarta. It had been an exhausting trip, it was after midnight, and I was so ready to drop into bed that night - after taking a few moments to write in my gratitude journal first. It had been such a smooth trip, no hiccups in immigration, and...all my suitcases had made it!

With nothing on the schedule in the morning - Choqky had planned a day off for me to rest and adjust - I could sleep as much as I wanted. Turned out to be a grand 5 hours thanks to jet lag, but it was nonetheless wonderful to sleep lying down again!

My stopover in Jakarta was for paperwork purposes. I needed to take a written on Indonesian aviation regulations and get a medical checkup done by the Indonesian aviation authority. After that was all done I could head on to my final destination of Papua. I’d arrived on Monday night and the plan was to get the appointments done in time for me to head to Papua by the weekend. But do things ever go quite accordingly to plan? I think you’re getting the idea now! 

If there’s one thing I’m finding you learn and relearn and relearn as a missionary, it’s patience. Sometimes things move exceedingly quickly and you have to be able to ride the wave, but more often than not it’s one delay after another. In my case, I found out I would need to extend my stay a bit beyond the weekend due to some snags that were still getting resolved. Ah well, no great hardship. At least I could take it easy.

A classic Indonesian dish called capcay.

Over the next few days I got a good initiation into life in Jakarta, starting with the cuisine. I quickly discovered what it was like to eat rice - white rice - for every meal. The vegetarian dishes I tried were pretty good and I particularly enjoyed the tempeh, a taste for which got me in trouble over the weekend. At church potluck I think I overloaded on the different kinds of tempeh and got a bad case of indigestion. I’d been so careful too, trying to avoid fresh vegetables, fruits with skins, and anything remotely suspect, and yet there I was on the metro back from church growing increasingly nauseous.

Rush hour at the train station.

The smells that wafted in me each time the metro doors opened, followed by the swaying motion of the train was almost too much for me and my churning stomach threatened to rebel. Somehow I made it back to the hotel without upchucking, though I  lwondered in retrospect if it would have been better to get rid of the problem once and for all. It took me a couple days to get completely back to normal.

After three days of waiting with nothing in particular to do except study and find a way to amuse myself, were finally able to take care of one important piece of business, namely my flight physical. The DGCA requires foreign pilots to get a one-time aviation medical checkup prior to letting them use their original country’s medical certificate for flight privileges. So it was off to the medical center to find out what they wanted to do to me.

Trying to see which station I need to go to next.

The whole process was fairly involved compared to the FAA medical. I checked in, got my checklist and began the two hour of process, after which I had been poked, x-rayed, wired up to an EKG, had my hearing tested, and...my teeth inspected?! It was all rather amusing actually, as I made my way through the various stations, feeling like I was being put through an extended NEWSTART Health Expo. I was eventually deemed “Fit” and left the place with my Indonesian First Class medical certificate and a poster sized x-ray of my thorax.

One more task remained and that was the enigmatic Indonesian validation written test. While I struggled with knowing quite how to prepare for the test that seemed to be taken from multiple sources, known and unknown, Choqky was having quite the time trying to get me scheduled for it. Friday ended with no answer from the DGCA on a test date, which meant Monday was out and I would spend another day in Jakarta. Immediately after breakfast on Monday Choqky got back to work checking to see if I’d been scheduled. I didn’t hear from him until lunchtime when my phone buzzed and I saw a text from him: “I got your exam schedule. Tomorrow at 9:30.” I would be leaving for Papua the next day. Praise God! Time to for some final studying and then on to the test and Papua!

The Adventure Begins

First stop on my journey to Papua: Indiantown, Florida! A pretty random place to go first, I know, but my boss Gary was sending me to get some specialized flight training with an instructor there. I would spend three days training, take Sabbath off and then leave the country for good early Sunday morning.

My home away from home. In Indiantown, FL.

The training was quite the experience. The course was supposed to be a kind of Upset Prevention & Recovery Training (UPRT) program and I'd mentally steeled myself for the worst, i.e. using one of those barf bags for the first time following some unusual attitudes. I could have saved myself the worry, because flying through those maneuvers couldn't have been more of a blast!

My instructor, a seasoned aerobatic and tailwheel pilot, coached me through the 3 days of intensive ground and flight training. I relearned the fundamentals of turning flight and using the sight picture, how to let the airplane do the flying rather than overcontrolling, and my personal favorite: how to recover from an inverted attitude. We also practiced a bunch of tailwheel takeoffs and landings, since I'll be flying a taildragger in Papua. As we taxied back to his hangar after the last session, I felt like I'd really gotten a taste of what flying as an art form can be. It was great to be a student again and experience raw flying again.

Would have taken a dip if I didn't have to keep my clothes dry for the trip!

On Sabbath I visited Jupiter - yeah, it's a town in Florida - and had a lovely time worshiping with a very welcoming congregation at the Jupiter Adventist Church. And of course I managed to meet people who knew people that I knew! Then a long walk on the beach and finally back to the hotel room for my last night in the U.S. It was a strange feeling climbing into bed knowing that I was really going to be on my way in a few hours. I tried to relax my mind, and finally drifted into a restless sleep.

The light notes from the final movement of Mozart's piano concerto number 15 filtered into my subconscious at 2:45 a.m. and pulled me back to reality. Today was the day. I'd planned to wake up to this piece for a long time. I associate chapters of my life with certain melodies and this one just seemed to fit the mood in a way that I can't really put in words. I let the music continue playing as I climbed out of bed and dressed, the pianist and orchestra skillfully evoking a sense of poignant transition.

Opted to skip the early morning curbside fest.

After lugging my 3 heavy suitcases, 1 carry-on suitcase, jam-packed backpack and pillow down the stairs to the front lobby, I surveyed the sign posted on the inside of the entrance with some dismay: Do not open this door for anyone. This is for the safety of the inn. The inn staff had told me how to unlock the door and get back after hours, but I suddenly didn't feel quite so safe venturing out with a warning like that. Every single day of my stay in the town I'd seen police activity, and it was a little town. Oh well... I briskly stepped toward the parking lot, eyeing the bushes by the hotel, and then drove my rental car to the curb in front of the hotel entrance.

As I got out, a vehicle drove by on the main road and seemed to be slowing down. I looked up the road behind it and saw some blue and lights come on. Great. Well, at least it was comforting to have the police nearby. I quickly loaded my luggage up and then climbed in, mentally checking that I had everything - yup, I think I got it all. With no one and nothing really to say goodbye to, except 3 police cars with lights blazing a half block away, I pulled out and drove away into the night.

When Tomorrow Arrives

Somehow I managed to survive the last few hectic days before departure as I did my best to downsize all my belongings that I wasn't taking and pack up my room so everything I left behind would be portable. I didn't quite get all the things done on my to-do list as I would have liked and instead figured out quite quickly what things could be deleted without creating a hardship. Making a return at Walmart was something I could skip, but having a ravioli dinner with a friend I wouldn't see in person for months wasn't something I would trade for a world of crossed-off checklists.

The night before my departure I said my last goodbyes to friends on campus and then returned home to burn the midnight oil tying up as many loose ends as possible. I finished boxing up my room and taking out the trash and then I stopped and surveyed the empty looking room, letting out a big sigh. I glanced at my watch and saw the time: 12:30 a.m. That's when it hit me. There's a saying that tomorrow never comes. Well, this time it did. August 21 had arrived.

Two of my dearest people got up with me at the unearthly hour of 3:30 to take me to SMF airport. It was a miserable thing saying that goodbye. If only I didn't have to leave those I cared about most behind. Perhaps it's just the smallest taste of a goodbye that was infinitely more difficult, when God "gave His only begotten Son" to this dark world. I suppose if Jesus was willing enough to leave His Father's personal presence for 33 long years for my sake, shouldn't I feel it a privilege to do something so comparatively small as leave home for His sake?

The sun was just rising as my Southwest Airlines jet passed over the crest of the Sierras. I waved farewell to California and then let sleep close my exhausted, moist eyes.

Between Here and There

The road to becoming a missionary pilot is often pretty long. On the podcast Plane Faith, it was not uncommon to hear the guys sharing that it took them quite a few years to go from the first step of deciding to pursue the calling and finally reaching the mission field, as it takes time to get through all the training and life experiences on the way. I also met a missionary pilot at Oshkosh a couple years ago who told me it took him 2 years to get his visa for Indonesia. So I guess I was basically on track in pretty much every way!

Once everything aligns, though, it's a mad scramble to get all the tasks done that are necessary to finish before I can head out. After spending the last 2 1/2 years having no definite departure date, I'm suddenly realizing how little time I have to get so much done! It seems my to-do list gets longer as the days before my departure quickly evaporate.

But ready or not, I will be on my way August 21! It'll be a 3-stage trip getting to my ultimate destination. My first stop will be Indiantown, Florida where my boss is sending me to take some preliminary Upset Prevention & Recovery Training (UPRT). Then early Sunday morning, August 26, I'll start my 29-hour journey to Jakarta. After several days of paperwork in Jakarta, I'll finally catch my last flights to my new home in Sentani, Papua.
 
It's going to be an interesting journey for sure!

You really think I'm all packed already? Hehe...

Finished.

798 hours. What happens in that amount of time? Or 433 flights? And how have I impacted the 46 students whose names are written in my logbook? These kind of thoughts are floating through my mind today as I collect my last paycheck, clean out my desk, and load my car up with my office belongings. Today is my last day of work and what a mixed bag of feelings it brings. It’s been such a great journey, working as a flight instructor at EVA Flight Training Academy, and I’m honestly sad to be closing this chapter. I can’t really encapsulate all I’ve learned and experience I’ve gained while being a CFI here, but the least I can do is share some snapshots of the awesome time:

This is where it starts, seeing all those eager faces of student pilots ready to learn how to fly.

You never forget your first student. (and don't worry, I haven't forgotten the rest of you either!)

Seeing someone go from zero hours to Private Pilot and beyond is pretty cool.

These ladies will probably be flying me around one day.

And this guy too...

What a fun time I had back in February when I got to meet up with former students at the HQ in Taipei. (no, these weren't all my students, but it was great seeing them all again)

The sights you see as a pilot never get old. PC: Ann H.

And that's it folks. Last flight.

As you must have guessed by now, I am leaving my job to go overseas and start working as a missionary pilot in Papua, Indonesia. It's been quite the ride getting to this point and many times it looked like it wasn't going to happen, but 2 1/2+ years after first committing to going, I finally have my visa in hand and I'll be departing the end of August. It's exciting and daunting at the same time. The work will not be easy. But I believe it will be well worth it. And I'm encouraged by this neat verse I read a couple weeks ago. Never before has it felt so relevant and personal:

Plane Faith

Hey, this is pretty cool! I just stumbled across this podcast and have been really enjoying it. Plane Faith is a brand-new podcast hosted by a U.S. pastor/pilot who is interviewing missionary pilots from various organizations all over the world. As someone interested in eventually doing what these guys are doing, I'm finding it great to hear first-hand what the experience of everyday life is like.

Episode 1 features a mission pilot who is working in the same country that I may be heading to. Check out the website or look them up on iTunes and I'm sure they'll be thrilled for you to subscribe: https://www.planefaith.com/