{"id":10856,"date":"2016-03-08T16:28:26","date_gmt":"2016-03-08T14:28:26","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.auderset.com\/?p=10856"},"modified":"2016-03-27T17:07:58","modified_gmt":"2016-03-27T15:07:58","slug":"le-maitre-des-saisons-partie-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.auderset.com\/en\/le-maitre-des-saisons-partie-2\/","title":{"rendered":"The Master of the Seasons \u2013 Part 2"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"areoport<\/a><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The allies!<\/b><\/p>\n

Touching the bottom in order to get to the top<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The target<\/b><\/p>\n

After a brief investigation, I discover that there is a big mission which each year gives several millions of presents to the poorest families on the planet\u2026.<\/p>\n

It\u2019s not only a demographic that can\u2019t read, but also that needs, more than anyone else, to have the enriching experience of the most beautiful message of hope that there is, the one that helps people triumph over everything; the one that is summarized in my little comic book.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

How are we going to go about it?<\/b><\/p>\n

I understand pretty quickly that “contact” addresses on the internet are in reality just dead ends. \u00a0When they aren\u2019t quite simply abandoned, they are strictly monitored by fierce watchmen known as secretaries, whose job consists pretty much entirely of filtering the messages. (The last thing we need is one of those plebs bothering the leaders.)<\/span> \u00a0By chance*, I at last meet someone who knows one of the main leaders of the youth section of this mission! \u00a0Over the months, the tenacity of my efforts to obtain “the” telephone number has at least the merit of being a source of inspiration of jokes for my entourage, but finally\u2026.yessssss! I\u2019ve got it!<\/p>\n

Voice from the back of the workshop: \u2018Ha, ha, ha, yes, but it\u2019ll never work!
\nI pick up the handset of the telephone. The cord uncoils slowly, I feel like Indiana Jones, poised to give a flick of his whip, only this time the target’s on the other side of the Atlantic.<\/p>\n

(To tell you the truth, I am freaking out a bit\u2026)<\/p>\n

*(“chance” – Ha! Ha! Ha! this word – Ha! Ha! Ha! I can’t take it anymore! lol! )<\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

First contact!<\/strong><\/p>\n

Sitting at his desk, one of the big chiefs of the mission is wondering about some old comic books produced by his predecessors that he has just found in the archives:
\n\u2018Lord, would it not be a good thing to do these again\u2026.?\u2019
\nLike a reply to his prayer, the phone rings\u2026.it’s me calling.
\nThe guy, in a bit of a state of shock, doesn\u2019t give anything away, but asks to know more.<\/p>\n

One thing leading to another, from Skype to official correspondence, with the help of a real treasure by the name of Heyidlovetoeatasteak (not her real name)<\/span>, discovered at about the same time, who helps me translate my poor English (awesome coincidence: she lives 30 mins away from the mission)<\/span>, he ends up giving me an appointment in his office.
\n(Little, but non negligible detail: for me, this latter is situated at the other end of the earth!)<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Rendez-vous with destiny<\/b><\/p>\n

My first rendez-vous (just before the appointment with him)<\/span> will be on Tuesday 11 June at 8.00 a.m. on the dot.
\nThey are giving me 10 minutes to give my testimony to the 300 members of staff. A special privilege which will not be offered a second time, if I were to happen to arrive late. (Late, me…\u00a0!? Never\u00a0!)<\/i><\/span><\/p>\n

I fly away into the void<\/b><\/p>\n

After scraping some money together for the flight, I honestly think that I won\u2019t have enough money for a hotel… But that doesn\u2019t matter, the stakes are too high, I am taking my flight. To Washington, then I have to get a connection.<\/p>\n

I enjoy making friends with everyone during the flight (that\u2019s what I\u2019m like…. !)<\/i><\/span> As I leave the first plane, the stewardess, glad to have been able to have a chat with me in Spanish, tells me: \u2018If ever you need any help, I\u2019m here till 11 p.m.!\u2019
\nShe knows perfectly well, however, that I am leaving on the 5 p.m. plane. \u00a0I have a sense of foreboding…
\n\u2018Lord, could it be, by any chance, that you are trying to tell me something\u00a0… ?\u2019
\nWhatever… Tomorrow morning at 8.00 I have a rendez-vous with my destiny (and indirectly with that of millions of disadvantaged people)<\/span> and that\u2019s all that matters.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Sorry, it\u2019s not going to be possible\u00a0!<\/b><\/p>\n

5 p.m.<\/b>: the plane\u2019s cancelled !
\n\u2018No problem ! You can take another one at 8 p.m.,\u2019 the lady behind the desk tells me, with an embarrassed smile.
\n8 p.m.:<\/b> the plane\u2019s cancelled again and rescheduled for 10 p.m.
\n10 p.m.<\/b>: it\u2019s cancelled for good.
\nA bone to chew for the complainant<\/b><\/p>\n

Faced with my consternation and my persistence, the smile of the lady behind the desk is no longer anything more than a muscle exercise. \u00a0Her voice betrays some annoyance. The politeness is just a light veneer of kindness behind a cold, professional indifference. \u00a0She hands me a photocopied sheet with writing in an incomprehensible language: the language of administration (and in English to boot)<\/span>. As the solution for every problem, it contains the number of an automated answering service, where I won\u2019t even be able to leave a message. I get the idea: this sheet of paper is nothing but a bone to chew on, so that the complainant leaves her in peace; to accept her piece of paper is to give up. There is so little understanding in this place that I decide to give it some of mine (the person really responsible is hidden behind her; I fully understand that this evening can\u2019t be easy for her either).
\n<\/span>I take the piece of paper.<\/p>\n

The Hispanic stewardess<\/b><\/p>\n

I know nobody here, I am so far away from home, the airport is about to close and I am politely asked to vacate the premises by guys who look like policemen and who are just doing their job, and, of course, it is nobody\u2019s fault… (him again!)
\n<\/span>Mercifully, I meet the Hispanic air hostess again. She explains to me what options remain for me: in other words… nothing !
\nShe provides me with a thin blanket and a wash bag with a toothbrush kit, and she looks sincere when she wishes me all the best before heading off; when all is said and done, at least she did respond to my most basic need – a semblance of compassion in this artificial world.<\/p>\n

Abandoned<\/b><\/p>\n

A drop-out… I wander around the airport with my luggage and my guitar on my back.
\nIt\u2019s not the first time that I feel completely dumped. But this awful feeling of abandonment is surely nothing compared with the way the thousands** of people feel that I intend to help through this journey… , for, if I don\u2019t understand anything either about what is happening to me, I know at least that, for sure, \u00a0God is not far away.<\/p>\n

You would think that another invisible force was trying to prevent my rendez-vous. However, I have to make it, they\u2019re counting on me… ! (or not)
\n<\/i><\/span>Who knows, maybe, some day, someone will thank me for doing this…
\n(**in reality it\u2019s much, much more, but I am just saying thousands so you don\u2019t think I\u2019m a show-off)<\/i><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Zombie territory<\/b><\/p>\n

The only seats that I can find nearby have nasty arm-rests, and I have the impression that they are deliberately designed like that to prevent a poor guy like me from stretching out on them. I can just about manage to work out the level of lack of decent compassion required to have the ability to ask an engineer to design a seat like that. I lie down well underneath it so that a passer-by doesn\u2019t trample on me. If the fake luxury marble floor isn\u2019t a great success as far as colour is concerned, it is excellent when it comes to durability. I think that I have never appreciated a blanket as much (even if it was lightweight)<\/span> as during that night.<\/p>\n

I am worn out, *\u00e7%&\/()=\u00a0! have to sleep, but is it sensible to do that\u00a0?<\/p>\n

As I don\u2019t have much power left on my mobile phone, which serves as my alarm clock and I am afraid that it won’t ring on time, but I also don\u2019t have much power left in my body, I doze\u2026.
\nDuring the night, several people come and kick me all over to rob me; or did I just dream that? \u00a0Anyway, I feel in the same state as if it had been real: I am shattered! \u00a0I wake up all the time wondering if I have been sleeping or not\u2026.<\/p>\n

Strange zombies are wandering here and there all around me (\u2026No, phew\u2026\u2026! they\u2019re just weirdos)<\/i><\/span>. I cling tightly on to my suitcases so that they don\u2019t run off, in case, inadvertently, my tiredness leaves this body for the land of nod\u2026..as long as I get up in time for my plane.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

4.30 a.m.<\/b>, I’m waiting at the end of an interminable queue that isn\u2019t moving forward (blast, am I becoming a zombie too!?)<\/i><\/span>. Victory is possible, the plane is taking off (and what\u2019s more, I\u2019m inside!)<\/i><\/span> Before losing power, my mobile had received a message from my two guardian angels (prayer team, see the comic book Appointment in the forest<\/i> page 33)<\/span> to tell me that they were on to it.<\/p>\n

Heyidlovetoeatasteak and her husband are waiting for me at arrivals. (Amazing – but then that means that contacts on the internet are real people!!?)<\/span><\/p>\n

part 1<\/a>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 part 3<\/a>\u00a0\u00a0 part 4<\/a><\/span><\/span><\/span><\/em>
\n<\/span><\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

  The allies! Touching the bottom in order to get to the top   The target After a brief investigation, I discover that there is a big mission which each year gives several millions of presents to the poorest families … More…<\/a> More…<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-10856","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-blog"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.auderset.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10856","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.auderset.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.auderset.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.auderset.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.auderset.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=10856"}],"version-history":[{"count":24,"href":"https:\/\/www.auderset.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10856\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":10978,"href":"https:\/\/www.auderset.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/10856\/revisions\/10978"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.auderset.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=10856"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.auderset.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=10856"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.auderset.com\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=10856"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}