Bear with me, both stories I have to tell may get lengthy. Once I got the job offer from China I had to immediately start making plans. Plans that I couldn't make fast enough. First, I had to travel from New York back to Arkansas. As anyone who travels knows, unless you book flights 2-3 weeks in advance they are pretty expensive. I found that I could take a bus for $130+ cheaper than I could fly. The downside: 32 hours on a bus. The greyhound site also said that I could take another checked bag. That meant I wouldn't have to ship anything back, thus saving more money. So, the bus won out, and from the beginning it was a nightmare.
First I called greyhound to ask if I needed to be there a certain amount of time beforehand in order to check my bags. The person on the phone spoke less English than Kolbi (Austin's two year old daughter). I said I had a question about baggage and they stayed silent - I literally mean silent - for over a minute. I asked my question again, which garnered the response "you have question about baggage?" I said yes and explained my situation. Again. I was then met with a minute of silence. Again. So I asked again and they responded the same way again. I hung up the phone and called again to get a new rep. When they answered the phone I immediately asked for a supervisor so I could talk to someone who actually knew the regulations. The person who answered asked me why I needed a supervisor and said they could answer all of my questions. They couldn't. They told me I would have to pay for my extra bag and ship it. Greyhound has a shipping service (third party - I thought they would just put it on the bus) that would be no different than sending it normally. I was frustrated and thinking that I was not going to save money AND have to be on a bus. I asked if there was anyone else to speak to and I was given the number to the Baggage Service Desk (why didn't my call go there directly?!). So I called them and got all my questions answered.
The same day I got a call from a job I had applied for at Columbia University to be Assistant Housing Manager and they wanted to do a phone interview. The interviewer loved me and wanted me to come in, but I explained my China opportunity and said that unless they had some marvelous offer for me then I would be going to Beijing. They said they would keep my resume on file and to contact them if I came back and was looking for a job.
So the day to leave came and I ordered an Uber at 9AM. My bus was set to depart at 11. I was in Brooklyn and had to get to the Port Authority bus terminal in Manhattan - about 5-6 miles. Kolbi meets me at the door to say bye with her trademark conglomeration of affection that includes: hugs, kisses, noses, noggin', high-five, low-five, other side, break the pickle, and of course, tickle tickle. Then I lug my stuff down four flights of stairs and across the road to the waiting SUV. It was about 9:15. The commute took an hour and a half (it was predicted at 56 minutes). We pull up and I slip my camera bag on my bag, my backpack holding my laptop on my front, and a duffel bag into each hand. I waddle through two sets of doors and to the closest kiosk I can find. I have to go downstairs. I go downstairs and find the greyhound sign that reads "baggage check." I am the only one in line and it's 10:47. I step up to check my bags and find that I have to pay $15 for the second bag that I thought was free. Now, before entering, I had $15 in cash, but I gave my driver a $5 tip for helping load and unload my bags. I pulled out my debit card which promptly got declined. This was frustrating for two reasons. 1) I had called my bank to let them know I was travelling so not to decline purchases from New York. 2) I now only have 10 minutes to make my bus. The clerk tells me that there's a bank across the lobby where I can withdraw cash. and I just stare at her incredulously because my card GOT DECLINED. Then I get a text from my bank. Fraud alert. Was this you Y/N? I type yes and am greeted with a response to wait two minutes and try again. Now there are four people in front of me in line. They finish and I step up again. Pay. Check bags. Ask for my terminal. It's downstairs...great. I strap up and try to run with my luggage as best I can to the end of the hall to the stairs, then back to the other end again to my terminal. The line is empty and there is a guy closing the door who asks: "where you headed?" To which I reply: "THERE!" He looked at me and said, "I'll take your bags, go ahead and get on, she's about to leave." I made it. Barely.
Now that you're caught up to me on the bus, I'll spare you most of the details. Such as the smells, noises, insanity, and senseless delays. The buses were large with pretty decent leg room, and an on-board bathroom. We were on schedule to arrive five hours early in Little Rock, but ended up being two hours late. For those of you who aren't mathematically inclined, that's a seven hour difference. I can't sleep on trips so I was sweaty, oily, in need of a shower and clean clothes, tired, and frustrated at the situation from the start. I brought deodorant, baby powder (for my hair), and my toothbrush on the bus with me. No one even looked at me when I put on deodorant, but when I stepped back onto the bus at a maintenance stop to get my toothbrush, the workers had a hearty chuckle at my expense. Though I'm not sure why. "Has no greyhound rider ever brushed their teeth before?" I thought. But when I put baby powder in my hair (I'm allergic to dry shampoo) to get the oil out, I got a couple bewildered stares. Pro tip: baby powder is fantastic for oily hair.
So, here is the gentle reminder that God had a plan, even in my frustration. I got to minister to a lot of people on those buses. Got to listen to a woman who was on her way home because her husband was murdered. I spoke with a drunk woman about religion and Jesus. I befriended a young man who was moving from Tennessee to Arkansas to try to get a job and an education and was able to give him a lot of advice. I also met another young man who was travelling from Virginia to Houston. He was going to be on that bus for two days. He had no money and was just trying to get home. Oh, and it was his birthday. Now I didn't have much money, but in Nashville he and I went out to eat and I was able to buy his birthday dinner. Had I been on a flight the woman may not have had an ear for her drunken mouth and may have been kicked off the bus unable to get home, the guy I spoke with might have had no knowledge of Arkansas, and the other guy may have been alone and hungry the entire ride to Houston. Of course I was frustrated at the time, but when I got home I understood. Gentle Reminder.
Once I got home I started the process of getting ready to leave. Getting boxes and plastic totes, calling to get my utilities shut off, getting my passport... The passport was the big one. Thanks to gofundme I had raised the money to pay for the expedited process. However, the night before I received an email saying they needed more info to verify my identity so I had to borrow the money from a friend. I got everything done without a problem but it was a Friday. Which meant that my passport wouldn't come in until Monday. Which was President's Day. Which pushed it to Tuesday. Which meant I should get it Wednesday morning (my mail normally runs around 10:30). So when Wednesday rolls around I venture out into the rain at 10:30. No mail. I check again at 11:30. No mail. I try to be patient and check again at 1PM. There is a book of coupons. No passport. I call the post office and get an automated system that has me waste about eight minutes clicking through convoluted menus, all for them to end the call. So I call the passport place. They tell me it got shipped and give me the tracking number. I check the status only to find that it is "Delivered/In mailbox 11:47." So I call the post office back and I go through all the menus again and get to a point where it asks me a yes or no question that is nowhere near the same category of where I need to be. So I legitimately screamed LET ME SPEAK TO A HUMAN BEING into my phone for close to three minutes and I finally hear: "You would like to speak to a representative, is that correct?" - "YES!" - "Due to the high number of calls your approximate wait time is 30-40 minutes." I am livid at this point. "There is no way that many people are calling the post office in Monticello," I think. I put my phone on speaker in case that is a standard message and maybe it will only be a few minutes. Meanwhile, I am scouring the internet for any other phone number, review, fax number, anything to get me in contact with them. I know at this point if I go inside I will be a very unpleasant person. I find another number after about five minutes and call it. Human. I tell him my situation and he says that since that was priority mail he had to confirm the delivery himself and assured me the carrier dropped it off before 12. I told him it was not in my mailbox and he proceeded to tell me that I didn't know my own address. Every time I try to talk about my passport, however, he just continues to tell me that I don't know my own address even though I've literally lived at my apartment for a year. I bring up my passport again, and he brings up my address again. At this point, I just want to pummel this fool. Finally I tell him that I am going to check every mailbox at my complex (26 of them) and I will call back. So I venture out into what is not a torrential downpour of Biblical proportions to find it in the wrong mailbox. Luckily the packaging was thick, because the envelope was absolutely soaked. I got even angrier that my documents were very nearly ruined. I call back just to let him know I had found it and that it was in the wrong box and he responds, not with "sorry," but with: "They [the boxes] must not have numbers on them." To which I reply: "No, they all have numbers." and end the call before I get nasty.
Ready for the reminder? The last time I went out, the time my passport was actually found, I saw a need. My neighbor (who has had a blowout on her car since before I went to New York, God bless her) was struggling with something in her trunk. It looked as if she had all new tires and wheels on her car. In her trunk were the old wheels, with the blowout tire included. On the bottom. She was drenched and struggling to lift the tires and I asked if she needed help. If I had gotten my passport the first time I never would have been able to meet that need. Even something as simple as lifting a few tires. Coincidentally, this was the only time I made the trip to the mailbox in a raincoat instead of holding an umbrella. Had I been holding the umbrella I would have been soaked, I would not have had the free hands to lift tires, my umbrella probably would have blown away in that gale, and my passport may have gotten all the way wet. And if I posted this blog when I originally wanted to I would not have had that second reminder yet, causing it to just be a run-on rant about greyhound.
TL;DR no matter how uncomfortable or frustrating your situation is, just know that there is a reason. You may not know that reason for days, months, years, or even during your time on Earth, but rest assured that there is a reason. Luckily I realized mine rather quickly. But at some point we are going to have to take a look at the Bible and realize that God is who He says He is, and trust Him. And when we don't, be prepared to be reminded.
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