“Their Mischievous Pilot”

Yesterday I learned that I am known in the Banwaon tribe as the “Mischievous One.” Dumbfounded, I asked, “how did they come up with that?” Of course what I was wondering was, “how did they know, I can’t even speak their language?!” I had forgotten all about a little something that happened a few months ago that had earned me that name.

So there I was, flying into the Banwaon airstrip while the missionaries who live there were out of the area. I had received a message that the airstrip would be mowed and ready for me to land on it. I flew over the airstrip and noticed that one of the Banwaon men was still mowing the grass. “No big deal,” I thought, “someone will hear me and have him move.” I continued my approach and as I got closer it was clear that he hadn’t realized I was there. I couldn’t land, but it didn’t mean I couldn’t have a little fun with him. I continued my approach with the intent of breaking it off just before landing and flying low over the runway to have a good look at it – and scare the living daylight out of my Banwaon friend.

It worked! I got about 100′ from him and 10′ over his head before he saw me. I knew he probably wouldn’t hear me over the mower noise so I had the element of surprise on my side. His eyes were huge and he and the mower dove off the side of the runway. I circled back around and landed, but I was just there to practice that day so I never got out of the plane to say anything. I hurried off to beat the rain showers and that was the end of it.

I soon forgot about the experience, but they didn’t. Yesterday, I was delayed from taking off by a sliced tire tread on our airplane. The missionaries were waiting for the plane to come in and didn’t know I was delayed. They had some time to talk at the airstrip with their Banwaon friends. They told the story for about thirty minutes and were laughing about it the whole time. The Banwaon people are a very happy and fun people who love to joke around so this quickly earned me a place in their hearts. As they told the story they talked about me as “their pilot” and introduced me to the missionaries as if they might not know me as well as they do. It was a cool realization that an act of immaturity was actually a huge step into their world and I am now “their mischievous pilot.”

Disclaimer: I do not condone reckless flying, nor do the people at NTMA. This was a routine aborted landing procedure…I just waited a little longer than was absolutely necessary to abort the landing…and I laughed out loud while aborting the landing, but that doesn’t make it reckless.