A few weeks ago, CESO sent me to Toronto for a three day pre-departure course in Intercultural Effectiveness training organized by the Canadian International Development Agency (CIDA) - standard procedure before a first assignment.
Twenty of us, heading to twelve different countries, spent three days pursuing the stated objective of, "to increase the effectiveness of people in the development field preparing to live and work in a different cultural context". This is the same course Canadian Foreign Affairs, military, RCMP, and aid workers take before shipping out. It was outstanding. Every bit of it relevant and immediately applicable. Damn, we do this stuff well in Canada!
On day two we had the opportunity to meet, one-on-one, with an ex-pat from the country we were travelling to. This was fantastic information and set everyone's mind at ease. My meeting with Manuel started something like this:
Manuel: The first thing you need to be aware of is the airport.
Me: You mean, be careful when in the airport. Pickpockets, porters, certain taxi companies, things like that?
Manuel: No. I mean before the plane arrives at the airport.
Me: Oh. Really?
Manuel: Yes.
Me: What do you mean?
Manuel: I mean the landing is very dangerous.
Me: Great.
I don't hold back from travelling at all, but I'm probably not the bravest flyer in the world. I don't like turbulence. I don't like odd noises. I have never slept even one minute on the 100+ flights I've taken. (Subconsciously, if something goes wrong, I want to be able to offer my assistance to the stricken aircraft and likely-incapacitated pilots. In reality, as a foodservice professional, I could probably get everyone coffee as the plane entered it's death spiral to the ground/ocean)
Did I foolishly spend much wasted time thinking about my pending Tegucigalpa landing on the Calgary-Houston flight, the motel stay in Houston, or the relatively short flight from Houston to Honduras? Uh huh. You bet.
Mercifully, it was over quickly. After plenty of banking, turning and low-level buzzing of the mountainous region around Tegucigalpa the 737 banked hard left (like, sideways vertical) very close to the ground. There followed ten seconds of fairly steep diving down a hillside during which local children played just out of reach of the wingtips and of being sucked into the engines. I recall clothes lines and faces and was convinced we were about to land with someone's bras and futbol jerseys dangling from the wingtips. As soon as the runway appeared we slammed down onto it and applied full brakes because (it gets better) this runway is very short. A picture perfect landing meant we had all of 200 yards of runway left. 201 yards puts you down a small cliff and onto a busy highway.
Cool eh?
Cue the YouTube video of a 757 landing at Toncontin airport.
Toncontin has universal bragging rights as the 2nd most dangerous airport in the world. Maybe I'll see #1 on my next trip.
You gotta have goals.
