Lost in translation

Have I ever told you about my trip here?

Have you ever gotten off of a plane and thought, “uhhhhhh where am I?” *confused face* That was me the first day here. A Friday morning after traveling all night. When I booked my plane ticket I thought it was a great idea to fly overnight and have 4 short flights rather than a really long one. Hey I’m so smart!! That’s what I told myself without thinking..hmmm entering 2 different countries en route to Arequipa will require me to go through customs more than once. But give me credit, my last week and a half in the states were a bit of a whirlwind. I found out on a Monday I got the job and was ecstatic. I started packing up my apartment stuff, got distracted by TV and seeing people, got mad because I had so much stuff, and quit packing for a few hours. It took longer than it should. Oops. And then it snowed. Because it always snows when you need to get somewhere…

It was weird packing up things in Fayetteville. It was weird putting them in storage for more than a summer’s length of time. I had a good few last days. From a surprise dinner at La Huerta to spending time with people who are special to me, I enjoyed every bit. The crazy part was that I never got sad because I didn’t have time for that.

Anyways, back to my trip...

When I entered security in Little Rock my arms were already hurting from my carry ons. Not a good sign. For the first time, I didn’t set off the alarm, BUT they decided to unpack my carry ons because they were so full. Thanks airport guy, I really appreciate you taking out everything after I spent over an hour getting everything to fit perfectly. And you know what the problem was? MY GRAMMAR BOOK. My grammar book was so thick that it blocked things from being seen while under the x-ray. Thank you English language…..

My plane took off an hour and a half late. I was so worried I would miss my connecting flight in Houston because I only had a 1 and a half layover anyways. And then I thought my bags wouldn’t even make it past the first flight. But on the plane I was sitting next to a pilot. He was nice and explained to me the layout of the Houston airport and then informed me that we would be arriving at the gate at the exact OPPOSITE end of the airport. This was the moment I realized it was going to be a crappy day. He was so nice though, told everyone to let me off the plane first, and told me exactly where to go. I found a guy on one of those little cars and with enthusiasm and panic, jumped on it. We went, like I said, to the opposite end of the airport, where my gate was (the last one) and he yelled at the attendants to wait for me. Then, in Spanish (because apparently I look Latin), they explain to me that I have been placed on a later flight because my first one was delayed. Ummm…..no.

I told them that I was without a doubt getting on THAT plane taking off right then and they said ok. I ran onto the plane right as it was about to pull away and looked at the huge and empty plane. Weird.

The flight to Mexico city was fine. Lots of room to spread out. Then I had to fill out the immigration and customs form. They gave me a form in Spanish, because once again I apparently look Latin, and I said no hablo espanol (hey I remember how to say that at least). “Are you not Latin? You look Latin.” No I think if I was Latin I would know Spanish.

So began my entry into immigration and customs in Mexico. Which was fairly simple at first. Just a long line which was quite unfortunate considering it was 10 pm and I was tired and emotional. At customs, of course they decided to sort through my luggage. And after rechecking my bags and heading to my gate, I realized I had no money and every exchange place was closed. And I already knew not to drink the tap water. So, thirsty and sleepy, I called my best friend Matt and started to cry. Poor Matt, he has had to deal with a crying me twice in only a few months. But he made me feel better, and then I flew to Lima.

530 am, and I receive another customs form in Spanish! What is wrong with the flight attendants? 6 am, customs in Lima! 630 am, finally my last flight. In Arequipa, we landed and had to get off the plane and walk outside to the airport. This is my thought..ummmm isnt Arequipa a city of 1 million people? Where is the airport? I retrieved my luggage from a dodgy looking baggage claim in a room the size of a closet, and found Cassandra, my teaching coordinator outside waiting for me.

After 10 minutes of attempting to put my luggage, which in my defense was not that much...the taxis in aqp are just too small, we drove away from the airport, and once again, I asked myself....where am I? This was when I realized I had moved to a third world country and I was in a place unlike any I had ever been to. But it was also 8 am, and at that point I was so tired I hardly fully understood where I was.

When we arrived at Extreme English, my school, I finally saw Amanda and gave her the biggest hug possible. She took me to a hostal that she wanted me to stay in. Santa Catalina hostel was so cute. The two guys who owned it were so nice, and despite our lack of knowing each others languages, we managed to communicate, and I got a room to myself until I could move into my house 10 days later.

So you get to your temporary home and what do you say to yourself? Hey, I can take a shower! Seeing as it was cloudy in Peru, the water was cold, and at this point I had no idea that the water here is solar heated. And then....I cried.

And thus began my first day in Peru. My first two weeks here, I was so sick with altitude sickness that all I did was sleep and not eat. I don't remember much, but I do know that in those first two weeks I was slowly falling in love with Arequipa. Despite my exhaustion and rough start with the cold shower, Arequipa has become my home, and my friends are my family, and I can't picture myself living anywhere else.

So now, as I enjoy my day off from school, I am sitting in my rooftop room with the door open admiring this sunny day. Quiet relaxing times like these are when I start to think, wow I am in Peru. It doesn’t happen that often because being here feels completely normal…like I can’t imagine being anywhere else at the moment. Its times like these when I realize how incredibly lucky I am to be here and traveling. And I also reflect on how much things have changed recently. My adventurous spirit took over the past few years, I found courage, and moved began the process of moving to another country. Not many people can say they have done that, and not many people will understand the desire I have to live abroad.

And when people ask me, “Why do you want to live there,” I say, “Why not?”