Tuesday, August 17, 2010

International mishap

3 hours or so of intermittent sleep and even in my groggy mind I can tell this isn't the right destination.

Sure, as we descended, there is most of what you would expect from Argentina. The ocean, the red-roofed houses, the clusters of mopeds on hard-packed dirt roads and the early morning traffic. Just as I expected. But I have already learned this trip is full of missed expectations, with a wavering vein of continuity, at best.

Months of preparation and packing lists haven't helped make sleeping on an airplane any easier. For the second leg from Lima, Peru to Buenos Aires, I am scrunched in between an arm rest and a window.

Wrong city. Wrong country. Right continent, however, and that leaves a glimmer of hope. Welcome to Uruguay everyone. But now we wait. Eyes half-opened against the Southern hemisphere's rising sun. Is the sun closer here? The philosophical wonderings of a sleep-deprived college student. Yes, I conclude, to myself. I am fairly sure it is closer, because sleep is fleeting more and more quickly.

Elevator music, with an uncharacteristically strong beat, pounds as I contemplate the day of traveling. Two long days, divided by an ocean, yet haphazardly stitched together in a jagged line of the airplane's route map.

What else will hold these days together? Nothing can prevent them from being pulled apart, defined by new stories, new faces and eventually, the correct airport.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Thoughts, comments or questions are welcome!