Before embarking on a trip to Guangzhou and Hong Kong last July, it took me several weeks to decide on which means of transportation I'd use. Train was my favorite but I was hesitant because it'd take me about 23 hours to arrive in Guangzhou. The strain and stress I was not physically fit to endure. Bus was out of question. The only other option was to fly. But if there's anybody in the world who avoids flying like the plague, it's me. I remembered all the recent air crashes around the globe and shivered. But because it would only take me an hour and 45 minutes to fly from Ningbo to Guangzhou, I finally chose to fly.

I sat next to a fine Chinese lady. We exchanged brief pleasantries in Chinese. Then I settled and did something on my face as the plane began taxiing.

"What did you do just now?" she asked in Chinese, curiously.

"The sign of the Cross," I whispered.

"What's the meaning?"

"I want to pray to God."

"Why?"

"So that God can help our plane take off safely, fly smoothly and land safely."

"But it's the pilot that flies the plane, not God," she said angrily.

"Yes, because God is assisting him."

She looked at me scornfully. I bent my head in prayer. The plane took off. After I was served the on board meal, I did the sign of the Cross to say grace before eating.

"Why did you do that again?" she inquired with a puzzled look.

"To thank God for the food and drinks," I replied solemnly.

"But the food was brought by the hostess, not by God," she declared, matter-of-factly.

"Yes, you're right. But it was God who gave them to give us."

"No, we paid for it on our tickets," she insisted.

"Oh yeah, but it was God that gave us the ticket fare."

"What are you talking about?" She queried, getting irritated. "We got the fare from work or maybe from somebody else, not from your God…God…God!"

"Hmm—not exactly," I argued. "I believe it was God that gave us the work from which we got the money."

She stared at me unbelievably.

"Don't you believe in God?"

"No, I believe in myself," she answered very quickly, "because I can do all things by myself. I think it's only a lazy person that relies on God to do anything."

"Well, we Christians don't believe in laziness," I explained calmly. "We believe that we should try our best first so that God will prevent any hitches to our success. God helps those who help themselves."

"Is that why you pray all the time?" she queried.

"Yes; another is because God gave me life. I must thank Him as long as I'm alive."

"No, I don't believe that," she giggled scornfully. "My parents gave me life, not God."

I smiled, and said gnomically, "But God created all life."

"No," she disagreed sharply. "Life came through evolution from material things to animals, then to us."

"Well, that's just one of the scientific creeds about the origin of life," I explained. "There are many religious and cultural creeds, but nobody knows the absolute facts."

She kept quiet, perhaps, trying to assimilate my explanations. Suddenly the plane began to shake gradually, then vigorously. My breath galloped in fear. Shortly, a female voice came alive on the speakers. "Ladies and gentlemen, our plane is experiencing some turbulence now. Fasten your seatbelts and remain calm." There was quick clicking of seatbelts, followed by eerie murmurings.

"How could we remain calm when the plane is not calm?" my seatmate asked hysterically.

"We shouldn't be in turbulence with the plane," I advised. But deep inside me I was in more turbulence than any other passenger. All my fearful thoughts before boarding the plane besieged me again. "So, this is how I'll die," I soliloquized painfully, "with my life ambitions unexplored. God, please save us from this danger." As I prayed this last sentence repeatedly with closed eyes, I heard my seatmate who had earlier said she doesn't believe in God, repeating those words quietly after me, "God, please save us from this danger."

The plane's flight slowed. Suddenly it dived sharply for a few meters, and steadied again. My seatmate let out a short wail, tears rolled down her cheeks. The inside of the aircraft became stuffy. Everybody sweated. I bowed my head and said my last prayers. A few minutes later, the plane began ascending and returned to its former position. Ventilation improved. We heaved a sigh. The female voice advised us we would soon be landing at the Baiyun Airport, Guangzhou. Back on the ground my seatmate looked at me. I thought the scorn had changed to something else. We smiled our goodbyes and she seemed to give a slight nod of her head. Then again being so grateful to be back on earth, I could have just imagined it.

The author is a Nigerian living in Zhejiang Province.