Saturday, January 18, 2014

Day 1: Airport Chaos

As I recently decided to take a sabbatical from life and travel to the lovely land of Ecuador, my mother encouraged me to journal daily. The following posts are from my time there. And, if for no one else, I know I will one day be able to look back at these entries and be able to remember detailed accounts of a once-in-a-lifetime experience. 

  I'm a little bit nervous right now. So I'm complaining to a journal about it. Makes perfect sense. Anyways, I'm nervous because people are most likely going to be talking to me, and I'll have no idea what they're saying. I don't know why that scares me so much, but it does. We woke up at 2:15 this morning-me, Tiff, and mom. Which was way too early for any living organism. Then this really sweet lady on the plane was complaining about waking up at 3:30. I was like "You have no idea." But I didn't actually say that. 
  These little boys are speaking Spanish next to me right now. It's really cute, but reminding me that I hate direct and indirect objects. Also, they just informed us that our flight is delayed an hour. I'm really learning to hate aeropuertos. The flight this morning I sat in between an elderly lady (who I believe was from South Africa) and a middle aged woman who I found out was a preschool teacher from Greeley [Side note. She was visiting one of her 5(?) kids in Houston. One of her sons who I think she said was 20 was about to go on a 2 year missions trip. I was like, "Yo! Hook me up with him!" But actually, sounds more like a Tiffany kind of guy.] We talked about everything from smart phones to the densely wooded part of Texas. Then, I SLEPT. Never before have I slept so wonderfully on a plane. Afterwards I learned that some creep asked Tiffany for her name and she told him Tiffany Smith. 
  (I've been watching/subconsciously listening to a video about massaging feet for literally hours now--fun.)
  So here's the thing, we get our luggage super fast in Houston and we're like, "Holla! Let's get this 7 hour layover done with!" WE wait in line to re-check our bags and the chick's like, "You can't check your bags till 2:30." Well folks, it was about 10:30. That's a golden 4 hours that we are not allowed inside the airport, but can't go outside at all either. After going between 16,000 terminals, we finally find a restaurant open to the less fortunate (i.e. us). The only downside of this glorious find was that we spent $10 each on a meal. After much nonsense including trying to sleep in a dark hallway, having nuts thrown at us by some thugs (they weren't really thugs-just wannabes), reading a children's bible, smiling at people on the tram, playing soccer with aforementioned (I tried to sound smart, but that didn't work) nuts, and trying to touch the ceiling, we FINALLY were able to check our bags. 
  And here we sit. Waiting another nails-on-a-chalkboard 60 minutes. All I can say is, Tiff and I are gonna be pros at floor napping and carrying our suitcases up and down escalators after this. Traveling is always an adventure. 

  Did I really say "Traveling is always an adventure" earlier? I had NO idea. Shortly after I finished with you all last, the airline peeps started saying something in Spanish. Tiff goes, "Are you kidding me? Did he just say our flight was cancelled?" THAT'S RIGHT PEOPLE. Needless to day, Tiff and I are now in a hotel after spending 12 long, grueling, miserable, unproductive, hilarious hours in the Houston airport. 
  Also, this hotel is pretty sketch. The guy at the front kept cussing and basically, if we die, they're not responsible. But hey! Free food, hotel, and a flight without connections. Sweet. We're way better off than the dude behind us in line who I just realized probably has his second flight cancelled. Word to the wise: Avoid Aeromexico. [Sidenote: Opinion later changed]