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  1. Transito

    Sunday, June 22, 2008

    Getting to Peru starts with a flight to Miami. Then, a flight to Panama City, Panama. Ryan and I made it to Panama City without delay and met up with Larry. Larry boarded the flight to Lima, but as Ryan and I went to check-in for our seat assignments, the desk agent told us there were no seats for us. However, stand-by passengers were getting on. This is what I had feared for our trip - language barriers, misunderstandings, delays, and idiosyncrasies of logic. The desk agent told us there was one seat left, and Ryan opted to stay behind, letting me board the flight. Sweet Jesus! My stomach was in knots, I was so angry and confused and the thought of Ryan spending the night in the Panama City airport until the next morning's flight didn't make me feel much better.

    As I boarded the plane and tried to find my seat, I scanned the plane for Larry, so I could let him know that Ryan would meet us in Lima the next day. I couldn't find him and someone was sitting in my seat already. WTF?!? So do I or don't I have an effing seat on this flight, Copa Airlines??? While I waited in the aisle to claim ANY seat on this last flight out of Panama for the night, I found Larry and let him know what was going on. Then, the flight attendants spoke some words en Espanol, people moved, and "my seat" mysteriously opened up. I sat down, relieved that I was still en route to Lima, but confused about what the hell just happened and PO'ed that things were this gnarly so early in the trip. It made me question why I decided to leave the comfort of my home for a region in which I don't speak the language. I hadn't even arrived in Lima, yet!

    Well, as fate, luck, God, or all three would have it, one passenger never made the last call for our flight and Ryan made it on the plane. An unexpected twist that relieved the knots in my stomach. It would not be the last time that luck would be on our side. Luck did not shine down right away at the baggage claim, however, as Ryan's bag did not make it on the flight out of Panama. After waiting until the very last of the bags rotated around the carousel, and Ryan made a claim with the Copa Airlines baggage representative, Larry, Ryan, and I headed to the taxi stand for our 1 AM ride to Miraflores House, a hostel in the Miraflores section of Lima, and where Tami was already sleeping.

    Our taxi ride took us through the quiet city streets of Lima - very few other cars were out on the road - and past the Las Vegas-esque casinos with names like King Arthur. We passed Kentucky Fried Chicken, Burger King, McDonald's, Pizza Hut, Papa John's...Huh?? Where the heck had we landed?? Oklahoma?? When we reached Miraflores House, it looked like some shack, locked up with a steel gate and electric fencing lining the top of the steel fence around the courtyard. If the taxi driver hadn't told us that this was the place, I don't think I ever would have guessed it (or found it) on my own.

    Upon entering the hostel, though, I felt relief - almost a homecoming - and for the next day and half, the hostel would seem like home. The hostel was cozy and clean. Tami roused herself from slumber to greet us and ask us about our travels. Ryan would have to sleep in his traveling clothes for the night, and mooch some toiletries off the rest of us, but all of us made it to Peru in one piece and as scheduled. The adventure had begun, and Amanda and Lindsey would meet us the following night at the airport, as we headed towards Cuzco.

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