I began this entry on my flight back home for my sister's wedding last Wednesday:
I'm waiting to board my plane back to
the states for my sister's wedding. The good news is I will now
actually get in earlier than expected, but this news came only after
a bit of a mix up. I got to the check in machine and it could not
locate me on the flight. I also had trouble when trying to check in
online, but figured it was an issue with the website. After 2 failed
attempts it printed out a card telling me to go to the desk for
assistance. In Spanish I was able to tell the lady at the counter
that I had a problem and showed her the card that printed out. I gave
her my passport and record locator code which I just happened to have
written down. She couldn't find me on the flight either. She then
rattled off a ton of information in Spanish and the only word I
caught was “tomorrow”. Thankfully her english was much better
than my Spanish so she told me that my flight had been switched and
left at 7:00 a.m. I had missed it! She said American Airlines had
sent an email. I however never got that vital email. She said the
flight was full and that's why I was switched. She then told me the
next flight was tomorrow. This would not be the end of the world but
considering I have only 6 quetzales (the equivalent of less than a
dollar) a bank card that has been blocked, had no where to stay and
speak virtually no Spanish it was enough to make me a little
panicked. I asked if there were any other flights to any other US
city today. Turning to Saint Christopher all I could ask is please
get this sorted for me. A few minutes later she had me on the same
flight connecting in Miami then directly to Minneapolis that night.
Originally I was supposed to be going Miami to Chicago with a layover
and getting into Minnesota the next morning. The downside is I don't
get to catch up with my awesome college roommate in Chicago tonight,
but in the large scheme it's all good. That said I am now about to
board my flight. Saint Christopher please get us all to our
destinations with no further issues.
Here's hoping any of your future
travels are easy!
~Katherine
Flight Update: Not so fast :( I spoke too soon!
It's been a series of minor or near
setbacks today. Which in the moment is a bit stressful, but in the
large scheme it could all be a lot worse. That said, I got aboard my
flight in Guatemala City and we were delayed for about an hour due to
a storm. This wouldn't typically be a big concern for me, but it was
already going to be tight catching my connection to Minneapolis. The
wheels hit the tarmac with just over 30 minutes to go before my next
flight would be loading.
I am not typically pushy, but the moment the
seat belt sign turned off my bags were out of the overhead bin. It
took ages (or so it seemed) for the front of the plane to clear out.
The moment the wheels of my suitcase hit the ground I was off at what
felt like a marathon pace moving as fast as one can go with a large
backpack and suitcase in tow. The slalom course of other passengers
took a slight toll on getting into the record books.
Then came the
escalator... at that instant I flashed back to England where people
actually understand the proper use of an escalator. For those who
don't know... If you are simply riding up or down please stand to the
right and leave the left for those who are hoping to break the sound
barrier. In a split second I dropped any hope of using the escalator
and opted for the stairs. Let's just say I was quite relieved in that
moment to have packed relatively light.
So now having climbed Mt. Everest (or
so it felt considering just the day before I'd been quite sick with
some sort of stomach bug that left me exhausted after even standing
up) I continued my awkward sprint to what I figured would be baggage
claim and then on to customs. This was to be my chance to make it
past the hoards of people coming into the country from every known
direction possible. I hadn't checked luggage for precisely this
reason... well sort of and I just didn't need to. However, luck or
really just logic was not on my side.
Customs came before baggage
claim meaning there was no running past the mobs of people staring
numbingly at the rotating belt in hopes of their luggage showing up.
My only option was to be that line jumper that so many people
despise, but a wonderful few graciously embraced. The line went for
another football field past the roped off maze.
I now drenched in
sweat and quite possibly returning to a feverish state breathlessly
told a lady nearest the start of the rope maze that my flight was
boarding in 15 minutes. I don't think I even fully asked if I could
go in front of her before she said yes. It's people like that who
make the world a better place!
I got up to the customs agent and
handed him my form. It was the wrong form! I just about lost hope of
catching my flight at that point. I had to go back through the crowds
refill out the correct form. Thankfully he told me to come straight
back to him and I could cut in front of anyone waiting. That didn't
go over so well with one guy. As the agent saw me running back he
waved me ahead and the guy at the front of the line starting yelling
at me to stop. Ignoring him I went straight to the agent who smiled
and chuckling said, “You are going to start a riot.” I was too
winded to respond but in my head said, “So long as I make my
flight.”
Finished with that check point I dug
deep for what little energy and adrenaline I had left and at warp
speed headed for the exit/connecting flights area. This meant barreling
past crowds more tightly packed and high strung than the Mall of
America on the day after Thanksgiving. Thankfully, I had not checked
any bags. T minus 5 minutes to boarding...I spot the exit! Deep
breath....I might just make it!
With blinders on I race with my
suitcase in behind like a plow making it's way through a rocky field
of zombie travelers. Now just feet from the exit/connections I'm
brought to an sudden halt. I realize the sea of zombie travelers were
all patiently waiting in lines for yet another passport check! I say
to the guy next to me at the front of the line that I'm sorry but my
flight is boarding in less than 5 minutes. Before he could even say
anything the security agent says very sternly that I need to return
to the end of the line and ask each person if it's okay to go ahead.
REALLY?!?!?!?!?!?! I just about
collapse right there from sheer exhaustion and probably a bit of
wanting to throw a temper tantrum or just start sobbing. Instead
though I suck it up, and in a split second come to terms with
spending the night in the Miami airport. However, within the same
split second before my mind even comprehends what my mouth is saying
I cry out in frustration (loud enough to surprise myself), “Does
anyone care?!” As I begin walking to the back of the waiting mass I
hear two ladies call me over and tell me to go in front of them. That
was enough to make me choke back a couple exhausted tears.
Now clear of checkpoint number two
it's back to an all out sprint. By this time my flight is beginning
to board. Now at security checkpoint number 3 I peel off my shoes
while still in line. I'm sure those around me loved the smell.
Thinking back I probably smelled only slightly better than I looked
and far better than I felt, but I was too exhausted and too
determined to get home to care. In near world record speed I got my
carry-ons unpacked, through security, repacked and shoes back on, but
only after having gone through a body scanner that made me want to
ask Scotty to beam me to my gate.
Now ready for the final sprint I
realize I still don't know which gate I need to be at. Standing in
front of the massive screens of cities, gates and times it made me
wish I'd taken that speed reading course. I spot Minneapolis... now
boarding. I turn to see where I am and hope that my gate just happens
to be right there.
Who am I kidding? After having hiked Mt. Everest,
sprinted the length of the Great Wall and plowed through fields of
travelers the size of Russia I knew fate was not on my side. I turn
and make a final sprint for my gate Home Alone style. I can't recall
just how far it was, but definitely near the end of the line. All
that mattered is I got the gate and there was still a line of
travelers waiting to board the plane.
Now standing in line guaranteed to be
home in a matter of hours I had just enough time to call home for the
first time in 3 weeks. Between fits of feverish asthmatic coughs I tell my mom I'd made the flight and would be home that night. I
squeezed my backpack and luggage into the impossibly small overhead
bin and collapsed in my seat. It didn't matter how cramped that seat
was because it had my name on it and it meant I was going to make it
home that night.
Thanks for reading my novel ;)
~Katherine
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