This is the beginning of Infinities Edge

The unofficial travel journal of inspirational adventure stories, life, quirks, COLORS & International aid work. You never know what is around the corner.

Story #1

Infinity’s Edge and the Baggage Angel

 

So it all begins with the baggage!

Always the bags... What do I need in the bag, packing the bag ,weighing the bag...

Whoops again, ....overfilling the bag and now having to take out whatever precious randomness that I think I might not need for my next journey. This one being several projects in Sri Lanka.

But you see, the issue is the stuff  I'm taking is usually not mine ... it’s for the world . 

Have you ever hear the expression "carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders? " Well, I feel like that a lot, and with the baggage even more so . 

I'm tirelessly trying to predict what useful donations I will need for the next project at a children's home or care centre for challenged children....or medical supplies for a street dog project...

As always I pray hard to my trusty baggage angel to make everything fit in the bag and have it arrive safely.

So now the bags are weighed and ready to go and ... Whamo. A major snow storm hits Nova Scotia and my dad works hard shoveling for hours digging out the car from 5 feet of icy snow, and then we actually  sled the darn bags down the driveway. 

Two hours later I arrive at my mom’s.

 Phewwww…

Me mom and my boyfriend Gerald have a final few hours of walking in the snow, and I'm fully enjoying the idea that I will see hot weather very soon and the hard part of packing is now over.

The next day on arrival at the airport it turns out that the 'trusty ' old scale back home was far far from being anything like accurate . Me and mom look at each other but don't say a word as we see the pending baggage delemia. I've been down this road 1000 times before. Oh baggage angel, I need you again ! Will I have to cry the bags through? Will the lady at check-in have pity on the baggage-laden aid worker? What big amount will the airline take from the children's funds? I decide to believe with all my might the bags will make it and I go through. Then they send my bags to the overweight counter!  Oh man, it’s all over now, we thought.

 But low and behold, I'm completely ignored and the bags are fully checked through . No arguing, no tears and no extra money? Yup.

 

Mom and I walk off to Tim Horton’s feeling dumbfounded at the luck. I recounted the many stories boarding  plans with 5 carry-ons, somehow getting 6 bags of luggage back from my move from South Africa without a fee.  Then there was crying at the Dominican customs agents when they were going to take the children's medicine away. But each time, somehow, I  and all the bloody stuff make it. Just writing this story gives me a bit of anxiety with the ever-looming Murphy's law... Just writing this story might jinx my next adventure. But I feel comforted, however, that perhaps Murphy and my baggage angel must have some comic love affair. They probably sit around swapping funny stories about what happened to Sunyata when this , when that...I can just see my baggage angel saying "remember the time the US Airways agent told her she could not board the plane with the extra bag so Sunyata opened the bag and threw all the kids underwear and crayons all over the counter. .... oh and remember the other time that....?" (You get the idea;)

Arrival In Sri Lanka ! 3 days travel and now 4 days waiting for a visa to stay in the darn place. Really! Man, oh man. Finally, I'm dropped at the train station with all my cascading bags. 

I can't possibly carry all this on my own so I ask the 3-wheeler tuktuk driver to please come in with me. 

No! 

He tells me it's restricted and he cannot. I say I will pay him more .... but he still says impossible. 

I'm left on the side of a crazy road next to the station by myself. Pretty much worst case scenario for transport logistics of donations, (apart of being robbed - ....that's another story ). I pray hard to my baggage angel. I see her and Murphy having a giggle at my pending dilemma .

... Ha-ha, look what she got herself into now, they are saying. I take an anxiety pill....gulp! People are everywhere. It's loud, hot, sweaty and ... well ...like hell. Just like hell. I'm feeling extremely vulnerable and no one is offering to help me.

Don't cry. Not a time to cry! I strap on my big-ass back pack , cross my big ass purse around my chest, stick my small purse in the big purse, put the carry-on pack on my front and wheel the massive bag of donations behind me. I walk slowly and try to breathe normally under the extra weight in the heat ... and there it is... My nemesis ! A set of bars leading to the train entrance, kind of like how they herd cattle into pens. I figure Murphy won some fall out with my baggage angel. Damn it.

 " If your bags don't fit trough, it's not going in ," a man tells me in broken English as he stolls on by. I try with all my might to get the donation bag through but with no luck. Slam. Stuck, won't budge. Too big.

OK, baggage angel, I need you now ! Please, God, anyone help me.

I place the donation wheelie bag behind me again and focus completely on making it through. My eyes are almost  shut as I imagine the bags just gently passing though the barred entry way. 

 And ....

Would you believe? I made it. Defying all laws of physics . Mystifying in every way.

Talk about mind over matter.

I still cannot explain it.

Then the ticket person tells me I must go up two flights of stairs over the tracks and get to platform 4. 

I have 80 pound on me and 60 in the wheelie bag...

Nooooooo. Impossible. I can't make it.

I see a sign that says "rail master conductor" in a big office...not for passengers....but I'm going in. I ask to see the rail master. I smile, I'm nice, and he asks me where I'm from. I say Canada . My train leaves in 20 minutes, so I quickly need to make this train master be my friend as there’s no way in hell I can get my bags anywhere close to where I need to go on my own. 

He sees my dilemma after asking where im off to and he can't believe I'm holding all the weight and asks how I ever got the big wheelie bag through the gate. I smiled as say "only God knows", .....literally!!!

He picks up the phone and calls someone. He says "now Buddha will help you the rest of the way."

I'm confused ...not sure what he means, but all I know is my train now leaves in 10 minutes and I'm nowhere near my platform . 

The train master leaves and tells me to wait. I still don't even know what I'm waiting for.... Buddha, I guess.

So I'm starting to panic and suddenly a small man swoops in, grabs my big-ass donation bag and says," platform 4?" I say, "Yes, are you Buddha?"

He runs off with my bag and I'm right behind him. He jumps into a train on platform one... Runs through it with me close behind... Jumps out of it on the opposite side. And I'm dumbfounded at the gap I must clear with over 80 pounds on my back and front . I clear it without breaking a leg. (Or falling ... that’s another story for later about jumping out of moving trains.)

I run after Buddha , avoiding the stairs all together. Just then, as we reach platform 4, there is my train to Batticaloa . He finds me my seat , all bags safe and sound, and I give him a nice tip and say "Thank you ,Buddha" He says, "No madame,  my name is Maheendra but you can thank Buddha as well.”

So it seems that not only do I have my baggage angel to thank this time but perhaps also Murphy, God and Buddha have all been with me all along.

And the journey continues ....