January 2-3
I left you on a cliffhanger in LAX, and that is where I will pick up. A confusing, under-construction mess of an airport, every time I headed in a direction to look for a drinking fountain I ended up back where I started. During that 6 hour layover we were joined by the second Guatemala group from Whitworth, as well as our fearless professor, Lindy.
We waited in LAX for a long time.
Our farewell from LAX and the country, in comic sans.
Welcome aboard Copa airlines, plane 3 out of 4. Everything is bilingual, they give you a real knife to cut your questionable omelet with, and you get to watch TV. I watched The Bucket List, that one with Morgan Freeman. The plot was predictable, but still good because it had Morgan Freeman. We left Los Angeles at 9pm and arrived in Panama City at 6:30am, but magically, only 6 and a half hours had passed. Funny thing about living on a round earth.
I didn't have a window seat this trip, which was a bummer, but I doubt I would have seen much since it was night time. Here is the sunrise over somewhere. It looked cooler in person, but then I was leaning over people in order to snap this photo. This sight was one of the most beautiful I have seen yet in my life.
Panama, Panama! A little bit farther south than we wanted (try 800 miles too far), but our latino senses were tingling. The airport was much smaller than LAX, but had that same circular layout that confounds my sense of direction. I slept a lot in the airport to make up for the red eye flight.
Our last flight, and boy were we happy. Goodbye Panama, Panama (I love saying that name, it's almost as good as Walla Walla, Washington), here we come Guatemala City! ... after another round of safety debriefings, cat naps, and tiny airplane meals.
Again, I don't know what country I was over, but look! Volcanoes!
Touchdown in Guatemala City. This airport seemed dead in comparison with the others, many of the gates were closed. Until we got to the baggage claim we were the only travelers in sight. There were the usual airport stores, but the employees were standing around with no customers to deal with. I wonder how much that has to do with the current situation in the capital.
Bad news awaited us at the baggage claim. About a dozen of us, including our two profesores, were missing luggage. They'd come on the next flight from Panama, we were told. We split up, the bourgeoisie loaded their suitcases onto a bus and continued on to our new home in Quetzaltenango, while we the proletariat waited another 2 hours for our bags to arrive. We (quite literally) danced with joy when the baggage carousal started moving and suitcases came through the flaps in the wall. Camina shared a heartfelt embrace with her backpack when they were reunited. The excitement died down after we saw the same red suitcase circle the carousal one hundred times and there was still no sign of most of the luggage. 8 of us students, plus our profes, were going to be very smelly after a few days without clean clothes.
With nothing else to be done, we left our camp in the baggage claim to find food and agua pura, then stuffed ourselves into a bus for the next leg of our journey. Our luggage (hopefully) will follow us in a day or two.
But seriously, how do you lose a bright purple backpack? I'd say don't fly Copa Airlines, but I don't think there is another airline.
No comments:
Post a Comment