Well one day turned into the next in an unremarkable fashion and I was still sitting by the shoe shining stall, still waiting, the only difference was I was getting more and more tired. Four hours of sleep is so little! My brain was slow and my eyes couldn't focus on much for a long time. There was so much movement, energy, and noise around me but I was just there in the middle, quiet and basically lifeless. Then, incredibly, things started getting worse. Ever since my trip to the Amazon and that horrendous bout of food poisoning my bladder just hadn't quite been...right. I needed to go far more urgently and frequently, and it was getting worse. Now it had become very, very bad, and I couldn't rest for more than thirty minutes without needing to jump up and scramble to the bathroom with my two huge backpacks, which fitted into the stall like a square peg in a round hole. This situation rivaled the one in the Amazon, I was deliriously tired, mentally fatigued, physically ill, and desperately alone. It was indescribably awful.
After about an hour of sitting near the shoe shiner and his stall, he asked if I needed help, or a phone to call someone to pick me up. It was such a randomly nice gesture that it actually managed to make me feel a little better, especially so because when he first addressed me I thought he was going to bother me somehow or ask for something as so many do in this country, but I learnt you have to treat everyone as if they're going to be like this guy, really nice!
One o'clock finally rolled around and after what seemed like forever I tiredly went to the ticket counter. There was already a huge line that had formed in advance and I waited at the end, wondering if my bladder would hold, you spend so much of your time in airports waiting. Then a ticket agent came down asking if everyone had a boarding pass, I didn't yet so she moved me over to a different, thankfully much shorter, line. However it was incredibly slow and everyone at the front seemed to be doing something very complicated and time consuming, more so than just printing a boarding pass. I was suspicious and worried.
When it was my turn I learnt my suspicions had been justified as I found out that they had overbooked the plane and they had no seats left. I quickly told them that I had checked in already at a machine, but they said that I hadn't. I didn't understand how that could be, but I later learnt that the machines are notoriously faulty and shouldn't be trusted. The enormity of this single sentence overwhelmed me, I had three more international connections to make, and I already had no extra time thanks to the Cuzco weather cancellation. As my heart sank into my toes I started trying to negotiate a ticket onto the next possible flight, but like the icing on the worst luck ever cake the next flight wasn't until 11:50 am, arriving a full 11 hours and 30 minutes after I was supposed to get in to Los Angeles, and nine minutes before my flight to Rarotonga left.
I stood there having nothing left to say. My eyes welled up with tears, the lack of sleep, hunger, and bladder issue all made my feel like I would just melt into a puddle. I needed someone else, anyone, the cold plastic lady at the desk just wasn't cutting it. The awful severity of my situation was not lost on me. If I missed my Rarotonga flight not only would I have to pay $200 but I would also miss my family's connection, and have to wait a day and a half in Los Angeles for the next one. And it was all my fault! If I had just checked in online before I came, or acted on my gut instinct at the machine that something wasn't quite right! Oh how disappointed I am with myself! With no other choice I checked one bag, and took the ticket from the cold plastic lady who was so indifferent to my situation she didn't blink an eye as I began to full out sob in front of her.
Then things got worse, because you know, why not at this point? I had already sunk so far below the lowest point I had ever been before that I was just in free fall off the edge of a cliff, I had the worst bathroom urge I had had and couldn't find a bathroom. Although eventually at the end of a maze of halls I managed to locate one, the stalls were too small for my bags, so being alone at the time I left them outside the stall and ran in, but was too late. With soaked pants I sat down and contemplated my situation, it seemed unreal, like I was in a dream, or it was happening to someone else. I was so done, just so, so done. Done caring, done feeling terrible, done travelling. And that was something I never thought I'd ever think.
I rummaged through my bag for any other clothes but of course almost all of them were in the checked bag. It felt like I was cursed. I found some pajama shorts and a pair of pants that I got on the street back in Cuzco that gave my legs a rash. I put them both on, and threw my jeans in the trash. If only I could have thrown my whole situation away that easily.
In utter exhaustion and misery, I walked through security and then through the empty three o'clock halls like a zombie. The cold plastic lady had given me a card that gave me access to the VIP Avianca lounge to 'make up for everything' but predictably when I got there I was told I could only use it for four hours, and I had six until my flight to San Salvador. I turned around and meandered out into the VIP lounge hall, sat down on the reflective white floor and burst into tears. The stress, exhaustion, and disappointment all coming out. I just kept thinking how no one in the world knew or cared about my situation in that moment.
That made me realize that I was the only one that I could rely on, that I was the only one that could fix my situation. A small fire was lit and I started thinking rationally instead of emotionally, which was hard because my brain was working at about three words per minute, but I tried to think through my situation anyway.
I decided that the first thing I had to do was to let someone know. I re-entered the lounge, started my four hours, and used a phone to call my parents. It was the middle of the night there too, but it was so so nice to hear their voices on the other end, no matter how grumpy they were at first at being woken up. Then they realized it was me and I told them what had happened. Mum was just sad for me, Dad was pretty disappointed in how I handled the whole situation. It was really nice to just download everything, it's amazing how much of the stress and sadness I was able to transfer away just by talking about it to people who really couldn't do anything from thousands of miles away. I hung up feeling like my downward spiral to hell might have just halted.
I then decided to head to the gate of the flight I had originally booked, because as I had learnt from watching my favorite TV show, The Amazing Race, you're never 100% going to miss a flight until it leaves. I arrived just as they began boarding and kicked myself for not thinking of this sooner. I ran to the counter and asked if there was any, any way I could get on the flight. She said no, and to go away while she boarded everyone. I stepped away and watched crying (yet again), and brokenhearted as all those passengers boarded, blissfully unaware of how lucky they were! I somehow couldn't make myself leave the gate though, even though I didn't know what I was going to do, I couldn't give up! As the last of the passengers boarded I was getting desperate, and ran up to one of the passengers telling him my situation. Upon hearing my tragedy he immediately offered up his ticket, in what was one of the most selfless and nicest acts I have ever received. However I should've known those evil airport people wouldn't have any mercy, and told him he couldn't do that. Why? I shall never know, I had paid for a ticket onto that flight, they couldn't provide me one, and he was offering his. It seemed like they just wanted to be cruel to me.
As the plane was being prepared to leave I still couldn't force myself away from the gate and the window, watching the plane, so close, yet so far. I pleaded my case again and again to the agents that arrived to help close the flight. Then one man took mercy and radioed to see if there were any seats, and merciful luck there were two free seats! My hopes skyrocketed for the second time! But then, for yet another inexplicable reason which I was never told, I was denied using one of those seats. Oh the unfairness! I had paid for a seat on that flight, there were two free seats, and yet I couldn't get on! Oh why, why why?! I watched through blurry eyes as the plane left.
Now I was really screwed. I had three international flights ahead of me, four in the next four days, and I could do nothing but watch my last hope taxi away. The flame was extinguished, and I felt dark and empty. I went back to the exorbitant VIP lounge and sat in the comfiest chair in the world, with mahogany floors, TV's, attendants, soft music and a calming ambiance, a breakfast bar, and a small indoor garden, feeling worse than I ever had before. I was then forced to update my family on yet another failure.
But I could not stay, there's no rest for the stranded! To another Avianca desk, to another unfeeling attendant, tears flowing from an unquenchable source. I had entered a new level of tired, a new level of frustrated, a new level of physical discomfort, a new level of disheartened.
At one counter I met a guy that helped me communicate a little better with the agents, as I didn't know much airport lingo in Spanish. Meeting him made my situation a thousand times better, and once again I found myself unbelievably grateful to a complete stranger. He was in a sticky situation too, his ticket was a staff ticket, which he could only use if there was an empty seat on a flight, and he couldn't know that if he wasn't at the gate. He had already spent three days in and out of Lima airport waiting for an empty seat, a victim of the airport just like me.
After we both failed at making headway in our situations at that gate we went to go get coffee. It was so nice to keep my mind off my situation that my mood improved ten fold. His name is Joseph and he is twenty-eight. He's from Ecuador, lives in DC, but spends most of his time travelling around the world as a mountain guide. He's even climbed Everest! I met a man who climbed Everest! We had coffee, played cards, and walked around the airport stores.
I will be eternally grateful to you Joseph! You turned four hours of hell into a time I actually enjoyed, which is amazing.
Joseph and I found these while looking around the airport stores!
I don't know how many of you readers know about Paddington Bear, but he is an English storybook character who appeared Paddington Station in England with nothing but a suitcase with a tag that said 'Please look after this bear'. The story describes how he came from deepest darkest Peru, specifically Lima. I named my blog after this and was really, really tempted to buy a Paddington Bear from Lima, Peru even though they were $40!
I had to spend another awful hour begging yet more heartless airport people at another desk called the Avianca Connections Counter, which is as awful as it sounds. I wanted them to move me to an earlier flight to L.A. through San Salvador that only had first class tickets, but they refused to upgrade me. I got pretty annoyed, they got annoyed back. In the end they were no help, probably because they didn't want to help, and eventually angrily told me not to come back.
Then things got worse, Joseph left, and I was on a carousel of hell, going from counter to counter around the departure hallway pleading to be upgraded. I was done begging, but I just had to beg and beg again. Those airport people are awful. I didn't get anywhere, I was just going around in circles.
Eight o'clock finally arrived, I had not slept in 26 hours, and only slept four hours in the last 36 hours. I was starving, my legs were almost unbearably itchy from my street-side pants, and I was incredibly worried about the fact that I wouldn't have easy access to a bathroom on the flight. I walked onto the flight like a zombie.
The flight was over all too soon and I depressingly disembarked, dreading dealing with a whole new set of airport people. They have so much power, but so little brains, and hearts. I ran to the bathroom, and then checked the screen for the next flight to L.A. which was earlier than my current one. I started speed walking towards it as it left in under fifteen minutes, the humidity and heat aggravating the awful skin reaction my legs were having with my pants.
I was ten feet away from the counter when all of a sudden the agent looked up and called out to me.
"Adrianne Nicole Holland?" I was sure I was delirious and had heard him wrong,
"How do you know my name?" I asked as I got to the desk,
"I have your boarding pass for a flight that leaves for L.A. in ten minutes!"
"What?" I said in disbelief, but he pushed a real boarding pass into my hands that had my name on it and was in fact for a flight that left in ten minutes. I was now very sure I was hallucinating. Slowly however as I waited in the boarding line I realized that it was true, and a wave of joy and relief washed over me that made me want to burst into tears all over again! I had a flight to catch! How, who? I didn't care I was so happy I started telling people all around me in a completely uncharacteristic way.
Everything made me incredibly happy, especially this grandma who dyed her hair purple. I don't even know why I found that so enjoyable... or why I took a picture to commemorate it...
My beautiful plane that took me to L.A.
This huge, ominous problem had just vanished in thin air, a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. When I got to L.A. on time I couldn't believe it, I wasn't even mad when I learned the airline had lost my checked luggage, why not! It was so funny how everything had gone wrong, it's all part of the experience right? I really got the full airport experience.
And then it was over. I saw my mum, dad, and brother for the first time in thirty days, and it was amazing. They all looked just the same, and that was comforting, but it also made me realize how much I had changed. As my dad took my backpack from me, it was like he was taking all of my worries and anxieties as well, and I suddenly felt such a wave of comfort and peace of mind, to a degree that I've never felt before.
Together again with my incredibly unphotogenic family! Also my brother's not just incredibly paranoid about a plane crash, his life jacket wouldn't fit in the luggage. I also found out how I had come to have a boarding pass waiting for me in San Salvador. It turned out that my mum had arrived in LA at 9am and gone straight to Avianca and begged the agents there to get me onto the earlier flight. However, she had not been able to tell me as I was flying so was also thankful to The Amazing Race for inspiring me to go and check the counter just in case.
Then we all together walked over to check in for our flight to Rarotonga. Together, one cohesive unit. And I was telling them everything about my trip in pure delight, talking so fast. And I gave them all the presents I'd bought for them. We got onto our next flight with no more trouble, and I fell deep, deep asleep, and dreamed of only good things and Peru.
Sunset from LAX. Just like the end of the day it signified the end of my troubles.
