Well, I made it. I am safely ensconced at the Cordero´s house in Oaxaca. I arrived at the airport without incident. When the cab driver discovered that I was traveling not on vacation, but for a year, he proclaimed "Good. This country (the U.S.) is good for making money. But go somewhere else to live and enjoy!" Sounds like an endorsement, of some kind.
The flight to Mexico City was smooth. Though a doctor tried to talk me out of my window seat, "Do you really prefer the window to the middle seat? Does it really matter to you?" Me: "Yes. Get out of my seat."
There were a few hours spent in the Mexico City airport waiting for my connecting flight to Oaxaca. My connecting gate seemed to be in the Siberia of the D.F. airport. So once I finally got to go to the bathroom, buy a bottle of water and sit down, I (of course) discovered I´d left my microphone in the bathroom. yea! Good going, Megan. Luckily the bathroom attendant was very nice and honest and put it aside in her closet of Lost Things. She chided me for irresponsible behavior as I picked up my mic and scuttled out of the bathroom quickly. Mexico is full of "second mothers."
The ride to Oaxaca was smooth. We came in over the valley in a direction I´ve never seen from above before. The mountains were a soft green, as if painted, not actually standing there outside the window. The twilight hour set the neat rows of corn ablaze in amber and gold. I couldn´t recognize a single familiar sign post from this approach to the airport. I briefly toyed with the thought that perhaps I had landed in another city. I told myself that if I did, in fact, happen to board the wrong plane, I might just stay here anyways.
The biggest hurdle was, of course, hefting all of my bags onto the scanner at customs. Mexico has this process where they randomly search the luggage of those entering the country; no racial profiling for these guys! So you push this button that either comes up with a green light (meaning you can proceed without your bags being checked), or a red light (meaning you have to have a customs officer comb through all of your luggage secrets). I got the green, someone awkwardly searching through my undies averted--woohoo!
Azucena met me at the airport. After getting home, unloading the luggage and helping her with a couple light errands, we found ourselves around the dinner table a bit early (7:30). A little sandwich with some quesillo (yum!) and bodillo bread (double yum!) hit the spot. Everyone has turned in early. I´m off to bed after I hit "send".
Buenas Noches...
3 comments:
I'm so glad to hear that you made it safely! When do you start looking for an apartment? When do you talk to your radio station?
Oh! Aren't all those little unanswered questions so cute? Isn't it just so fun for you and me both to not know?
Ha! Love your blog title! To think, that name we came up with oh so long ago (was that me or you?) has stuck so long. It's like your special code name that we use when staying up after our bedtime talking to each other with walkie talkies so mom didn't know we were still up...but the walkies were so loud and useless that she probably knew anyway...but we kept picking up the baby monitor next door, so we passed little evil messages about dead babies back and forth just to freak out the mother next door...Oh, we were mean, SOOOOO MEAN!
Well, it's good that we've got much better technology now. Perhaps we'll actually understand each other when we send messages back and forth, instead of getting nothing but static and crying babies.
Post a Comment