Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Getting There is Half the Battle--South America, Part 2
I left for LAX at 3am PDT on Thursday morning. I landed at the airport in Asunción at 10pm EDT on Friday night.
It took six airports, four planes and a bus to get there.
My first flight went from LAX to Atlanta where I spent 5 hours waiting for a connection to Buenos Aires. I wandered the airport, ate a decent lunch, made a few final phone calls before losing my cellular service for two weeks. It was almost a pleasant layover, really. But, by the time my flight to Argentina boarded, I was ready to get going.
Shortly after dinner was served, I reclined my seat and slept. I've never really had a problem sleeping on planes or in cars or other places, and when I awoke sometime after breakfast was served, I was only a little surprised I'd managed to sleep in stages through most of the night.
The line through customs was not long, but moved slowly. I had plenty of time to make my connection to Paraguay, so I wasn't worried.
There are signs all over Passport Control warning US, Australian, and Canadian citizens that they would be required to pay a reciprocal fee to enter the country. I had already done a bit of research and was fully prepared (though not excited about) the $140 charge. Argentina doesn't require visas to enter their country, but the reciprocal fee is assessed at approximately the amount the US charges Argentines to obtain visas when they visit us.
I was prepared to pay the fee.
My fellow passengers apparently weren't.
(Here's a little bit of advice. When you're traveling to a foreign country, it's usually a good idea to check on their entrance requirements before you buy your plane ticket.)
(Although, in defense of the guy in line directly behind me, apparently the Argentine consulate told him there was no visa and "forgot" to mention the fee.)
When the customs officer took my form, he saw that I was headed to Paraguay, marked the form "In transit" and handed it back without charging me. I went to the next counter, gave my form and passport to a woman who questioned the lack of payment, noticed the notation, stamped something, noted I had 24 hours to leave the country, and sent me on my merry way.
Had I really just saved $140?
I was sure this was just temporary and that I'd be charged upon my return, since I would actually be sticking around for a few days the next time.
My luggage was already circling the carousel in baggage claim when I walked through the automatic door. I pulled it off the belt, raised the handle, and rolled my bag out the doors in search of a remis station for transport to a different airport.
Despite the language barrier, they stuck me on the right bus and got me across town from the major international airport to a smaller, regional one. And, there I waited for 6 hours until my next flight was ready to board.
My cell phone no longer received service. I was all alone. I barely spoke enough Spanish to ask a security guard for the time.
It was one of the longest days of my life.
I don't remember another time I felt so alone.
While I waited, I pulled out my journal and wrote a little:
For an avid people watcher like me, there are few places more interesting than the airport. Passengers coming and going, some in a hurry and others with no concern for getting out of the way. Children cry and children laugh and people fret about which items in their carry-ons will have to be thrown away as they fumble through security.
For a people watcher, there's no better place than the airport.
Unless you're sitting in your fourth in 24 hours, begging the next 5 hours to hurry up and pass so that you can continue on with the next and final leg of your journey.
I'm exhausted. I left my house some 29 hours ago and there are 10 more until I reach my final destination.
All around me, people are speaking Spanish. The signs are in Spanish. A woman that I heard speaking in English to a friend pretended not to understand when I asked her a question.
I am so far out of my element. Out of my comfort zone. Away from everything familiar. Two weeks will pass quickly. Part of me is glad for that. Because, even as I sit here, having had no mishaps, no issues whatsoever, I can't help feeling afraid. Afraid that at any moment things are going to go horribly wrong and that I will be forced to consider the possibility that this trip was just not worth it.
But I'm here in Argentina. The parts of Buenos Aires that I managed to glimpse through the window as I rode a bus from one airport to another were quite lovely. And I'm excited to come back in 9 short days and explore.
And then it will be time to go back to the airport. Again.
Ten-or-so hours later, I got off the plane, got through customs yet again, and walked through the doors to see a blonde woman holding a sign with my name on it. I've never been more grateful to see my own name in print. And I've never been more excited to hug a stranger. And I told our Global Village representative that I had never been happier to see someone in my entire life.
She welcomed me to Paraguay, and then sent me off into the night with a kind shuttle driver named Miguel, who spoke no English but delivered me safely to a hotel where two American girls waited to welcome me.
And so it was that, for the first time in two days, I was finally able to breathe again.
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You are so brave, Karen!
ReplyDeleteThis puts into perspective my annoyance with waiting 20 minutes for the Magical Express to shuttle me to Disney World.
ReplyDeleteThat is one big journey. Like Gulliver's Travels big.
You are very brave. Can't wait to hear the rest of your story.
ReplyDeleteOh my gosh! I guess I thought you were traveling with your team! Why did I think that? You brave little soul!
ReplyDeleteI'm exhausted (and a little nervous) just reading this! You are amazing!
ReplyDeletesometimes I forget how scary it is to actually get to a destination. I just think of traveling as fun, but I do forget about the aloneness and insecurities of traveling alone too.
ReplyDeleteYour journal entry makes me think of people who come to this country, not speaking English, and what it must feel like to not have an end in sight. Yes, you chose it. But do we ever really know what we are getting into when we make life changing or life impacting choices?
ReplyDeleteIt sounds so hard, but at the same time, wonderful. To do something absolutely terrifying, that pushes you to the limit. It somewhat reminds me of moving away from Utah, to a city and state where I knew no one. Except all the signs were still in English.
ReplyDeleteGreat post. You're very good describing things. I hope some day to be able to travel to South America too. Only time will tell.
ReplyDeleteI'm glad you made it back safely and that you had safe travels. I'm really looking forward to hearing about the rest of your trip. Welcome Back! I missed you!
ReplyDeleteWOW!! That is a LOOONG transit alone!! The woman that faked no English... Grrr...
ReplyDeleteWHY is this sounding a bit like the first day of my TREK experience?? LOL! OK, it only took us 1.5 hours to arrive at the gate... but by that night and all the little mishaps just added up and I found myself hiding in the Expedition to have a private cry. Gee... you held it together through ALL THAT!! You ARE the WOMAN!!
Catching up on your adventures. You're so good at pulling people into feeling the emotions of the event. You will be a great novelist!!
So glad you're back and starting to feel better! ((HUGS))
You are a great writer, Karen. I feel like I'm right there with you :)
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