Miami - Florida

I'm not one for omens or signs, I tend to take things as they come and treat each situation as it's own individual moment. However, if the way this trip started is any indication of what might be yet to come... I might be coming home a lot sooner than I had anticipated.

WEDNESDAY MORNING

I was awake before my alarm went off. I couldn't sleep, not with all the anxiety and excitement that I now felt about my impending trip. The morning was a blur, saying goodbye to my family, the ride to the airport, boarding the plane, all of it just seemed to pass by as if I were having a flashback to some distant memory. It wasn't until the plane's wheels left the ground that it began to sink in- I was leaving for a long time.
The flight over was fine, I slept most of the way, aided by American Airline's version of Lunesta, The Devil Wears Prada, and arrived in Miami with an hour and a half to make my connection to Guatemala city.
I walked the half mile concourse that connected the terminals F to A and went to check in at for my flight at TACA airlines. Now, I had read that sometimes, these ticket agents would give you a hard time if they thought you were a hippy traveler trying to go to Guatemala to find your spirit or something, so I did my best to look professional- I wore a buttoned down shirt and tucked it in, I combed my hair, and even shaved! But, from the moment I approached to counter it was clear that I was in trouble.
Liz Hernandez was a stocky middle-aged women with contempt written all over her face. She was less than impressed that I was checking in only an hour before my international flight even though she saw that I had a connection that just landed. She was even less impressed when I told her that I did not have an onward travel ticket and was dismissive when I presented my travel-worn passport. With a thinly vailed smile she denied me right there on the spot and said I would loose my seat on that flight and my ticket. She took some delight in relaying this information to me and was waiting for me to explode. I paused and took a look at my options: 1) Go off on her and her superior and have her red-flag my passport or something and probably never see the outside of a Miami jail cell, let alone Central America. 2) Play it cool and try to work something out. I opted for door #2 and told her I'd talk to United (the affiliated airline I had issued the ticket through) and see what could be done. For the first time, she seemed impressed by me. I waited around for 45 minutes for my bag to be dragged off the tarmac, Then proceeded to walk the half mile corridor back to terminal F where United was located. When I finally arrived, I was told that the passport looked good but that they could do nothing.

WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON

I walked back to terminal A (that's 1.5 miles if your counting) and talked to another TACA agent who also said the passport looked good and that he would have let me board but that his supervisor, another heavy-set, middle-aged women who saw her chance to get back at 'Whitie' had overruled him. He suggested I try the Boarder Patrol Office, which they had in the airport, located, conveniently, back in Terminal F. Two miles. The Patrol Officer said that he would have accepted it as well but it's up to the airline. Back to TACA to relay the Patrol officer's approval. Getting close to 3 miles now.
At this point, Liz, probably feeling guilty for having me run a track meet with two large backpacks in a dress shirt and slacks, decided to take pity on me... or maybe she was just getting board with my persistence. She gave me the number of a US Passport office in Miami and booked me on a flight the following day (no extra charge). She said that I needed an appointment but that if I showed them the plane ticket they would issue me a rush order and a new passport. I called in, but there were no appointments until Friday afternoon. I was getting tired. I need to find a hotel for the night, Liz told me that there was a list located on level one... in Terminal F... as in 'FUCK' all this walking!
I waited outside for a shuttle and was coaxed into the Miami Princess Motel van, with offers of a cheap room. The driver, seeing the frustration in my face offered me a cigarette which I immediately took and lit up (I don't smoke mind you). As we drove out of the airport I told him my story. After a moment he said, "man, you really could use a drink." Without hesitation he veered off the freeway and down the off ramp into a back parking lot of an open-air Tapas bar, the type of place that had 'locals only' written in invisible writing all over the walls. It was with S-A though and we walked right up to the bar and he ordered me TWO Dominican beers. The driver, Antonio, was a middle-aged Peruvian who dreamed of opening his own hotel in Miami and whom, like me, loved to travel. He seemed generally interested in me and very friendly for a hotel diver. We sat there drinking Presidentes and smoking Dunhills until the sun set and then drove to the motel.

WEDNESDAY EVENING

At this point, I was exhausted and in need of a shower and food. I went up to my room and collapsed on the bed. I didn't even have a chance to go to the bathroom before Antonio walked through my door, "Hey man, come with me, I want to show you something," he said. The last thing I wanted to do was get up, but I didn't' want to be rude, especially since he had been so nice to me earlier. I rolled out of bed and followed him as he took me to a separate section of the motel. "This, my friend, is what I want my hotel rooms to look like," he said as he opened the door to a huge deluxe suite. It was decorated in Japanese-style, it had a circular bed and a huge LCD TV and a stereo system. "Come, I will show you," he said as he slapped me on the back and walked into the room. It had a built-in Japanese bridge over a small plant garden to a Jacuzzi. Uh? I looked around, there were wine glasses next to a bar, silk bedsheets under a huge ceiling mirror. Uhh! This was sex suit, they probably rented it by the hour! Antonio went to the TV and flipped it on to hard-core porn. Uhhh! He walked up to me, and put his hand on my hip and he passed by me to get to the Jacuzzi, and turn on the waterfall next to it. Oh, yeah there was a waterfall too. He glanced back at me an then the TV, "He is big yes!" "Uh, I guess." "I am big too!"! "Uhhhhh-huh." I was starting to see the big picture now. "How big are you?" "Uh, you know Antonio, I think I left the stove on in my room I gotta go," I mumbled as I made my way to the door. I didn't really say that, I don't know what I said, but I just had to get out of there. He gave me his number and told me to call him that night although I told him that I was very tired and had to get up early the next day to go to the passport office.
I slept lightly that night, with the deadbolt on and a chair in front of the door. I didn't know if and when he would come a knocking and he didn't have to knock at all, he had the master key!

THURSDAY

Surviving the night without incident, I went downtown early the next morning to the passport office. They let me in without an apointment because I had a ticket for that day- thank you Liz! Five hours later, and with a bunch of bureaucratic BS I was issued a new passport. After a brief stop at the local library to use the Internet to book and print a seat on a bus leaving Flores, Guatemala for Belize City (my onward ticket), I returned to the airport. It was still four hours before my flight, but I still feared that I wouldn't make it with all the hoops there were still likely to make me jump through. I was almost right. Even though I got a better agent and my passport was flawless, she said the bus ticket was not enough. I need proof a return flight to the US or they wouldn't let me on. I was about to choose door #1 when I remembered that I still had a credit with United for trip to Spain that I had to cancel during the summer (Thanks Sis). a brisk mile later I had my boarding pass.
I was sitting at the gate when, Ellena, another TACA (or as my father calls them CACA) agent who had been witness to my perils over the last two days approached me. My stomach went into my throat. What now? I thought of making a run for the gate, if I could just get on the plane, then maybe they would let me say. Sweat beaded down my face as she stopped in front of me. "I just wanted to wish you a nice flight." I let out a huge sigh of relief and grabbed her in a big bear hug and thanked her. I told her she needed to take a picture so that I would always remember TACA airlines. Yeah it was a lie, I couldn't wait to forget them, but I was finally going to Central America, I would land in Guatemala in less than three hours! My anxiety was gone, all that remained was my excitement.