Day Four: Muito Obrigada (Thank you very much)

Day Three found us taking a cab to ANOTHER airport to try to make a flight with GOL Airlines from Sao Paulo to Belo Horizonte. When Cara finally cracked (took three days) and stared right through the ticket agent, he knew he had to help us or we'd literally kill him. We were tossed from line-up to line-up (no one wants to help the displaced Varig folks b/c there are so many of us) and finally secured three seats (at the emergency exit no less!) to BH. And Renuka and I were interviewed by a SP newspaper reporter. We're gonna look for the article today.

The pousada (hostel) is super-clean, there's wireless, and good breakfasts (papaya, watermelon, fresh juices, etc.) and the view from our window is fantastic: blue sky, puffy clouds, palm trees, and other green vegetation. Muito bonita!

After two showers, I finally feel that I've washed off the airport from myself, wearing contacts has never been so refreshing, and even the cold-water shower isn't so bad. We have a home now.

First impression/stereotype: Brazilian men are so good-looking. Even the not-so-hot ones are attractive (sorry North American guys, we still love you!) and the women ranging from young girls to about mid-30s are beautiful. There's some natural "essence" that makes them seductive and intriguing. Confidence maybe? Good skin? Low-rise jeans? We don't know yet but we give them credit.

Things are looking up.

Day Two: What does "shortly" mean?

C & V: "Why are you calling the Holiday Inn?"
R: "To remind them what 'shortly' means!"

This lovely humid morning has brought us back from a useless trip to the airport at 4:30am (from the $200. hotel room we had to book last-minute last night) to find out that we need to go back once again to wait in line in hopes of getting a seat on tonight's Tam flight.

We've met some Greeks heading to Greece, a nice Liverpool-Dublin couple, a $200. bar tab, and a nice-looking Bahama guy, and have befriended many a stranded traveller who grunts every time we say the word "Varig."

With any luck, we'll be sipping camparenhas by tomorrow night and STILL be laughing like hyenas as we are right now.

What's to be done? We'll write a book, "The No-Nonsense Guide to Being a Global Teaching Fellow" (Lesson One: Be prepared to get fucked over at every turn. Bend over, motherfucker!")

NB: I would post a photo but we're not looking so good right now. ;>

Day One: I hear JFK is lovely this time of year

"Three hours early" to JFK is clearly not enough time to secure a seat on Varig Airlines. Now we wait at a random counter, hoping it's the Tam Airlines counter, wishing that they'll give us seats on it for tonight's flight. It's not so bad afterall--we found a bar with beer, a wireless internet connection, and have counted hot, "swarthy," (married) men who've passed by. What's this photo, you ask? It's Cara and I waiting at the Varig ticket counter--they sent us there to get coupons for the Tam flight.

southward bound

Call to Varig Airlines this afternoon: "I'd like to confirm our reservations por favor."

Kind operator: "I'm sorry but Varig no longer flies to NY nor to Belo Horizonte, Brasil. The airline has significantly reduced is routes. You will have to refund your ticket to take another airline. I suggest you contact your travel agent."

Alex (travel agent): "I don't know what to suggest."

Conclusion: We can get to NY. No clue if/when we can get to Brazil.

The adventure begins... yet somehow I'm relaxed and happy. At least there's a destination of some kind in my future. It may not be exactly as planned (and I may spend more than my share of time in a random airport) but my to-do list is dramatically shorter, I've realized I can't single-handedly save Lebanon and my sadness for it doesn't help, I'm leaving the humid weather, and I'm facing what promises to be a wild ride of a trip. What's not to love?

Nos vamos!

I am...

undone.
not going.
disappointed.
broken-hearted.
frustrated.
sad.

safe.

Uncle Sam

"I'll take you away from imminent danger only if you promise to pay me back."

http://www.dailystar.com.lb/article.asp?edition_id=1&categ_id=2&article_id=74073

leaflets?!

CNN and Anderson Cooper (on his way to Beirut) are in full effect.

The U.S.-centered perspective is spilling through my t.v. at every second, complete with scrolling reports adding to the concern, and a live clock indicating Beirut time (7 hrs. ahead).

The Lebanese-centered perspective is more challenging to determine: phone calls to friends in Beirut and its environs, The Daily Star (English-language Lebanese newspaper available online: http://www.dailystar.com.lb/article.asp?edition_id=1&categ_id=2&article_id=73960), and a mindset that forces me into accute awareness of "media" and over-simplification of events.

I've been to the places they're highlighting on the handy-dandy on-screen maps. Runways at the Beirut International Airport have been bombed out. There's now talk of a marine-run evacuation of U.S. citizens. Canadians? Well, they don't count on CNN.

What to say? I have no idea. I'm a little nervous but not jumping the gun yet (sorry, poor expression to choose). With any luck, the frustrations will cool... yeah, that's how political/religious issues are solved in the Middle East all the time, right? Fuck.

as promised...

1) Yes, my knees should be in the kayak
2) Yes, we need different PFDs
3) Yes, E's holding a vodka cooler as she sang "Oh Canada!" beneath the flag
4) Yes, there will be more photos when the other film is developed

Salut!

I'm packing my stuff as I get ready to move and travel for the next year. I sit with my back to several boxes, piles of "Brazil," "long-term storage," and "Lebanon" stuff, wondering how I accumulated so much paper.

While I'd like to be able to toss my stuff into one box in a Thoreau-esque movement towards simplicity--I certainly don't need everything I have--I like looking back at trinkets from my past: a comic on my corkboard about chocolate Easter bunnies, a pencil from my conference in Turkey, a note from my dad in his scribbly print-writing, a piece of fluorite from the days I thought I'd be a world-reknowned geologist... these are the bits that remind me of various moments--really great moments--in my life and I don't want to give those up.

So while moving and preparing for all of these great adventures is daunting, it's kinda cool that I'm finding all this stuff I'd forgotten about. And uncovering a Garfield pez dispenser becomes more than just a cool discovery even though it's empty. It brings me back to L., a thousand years of friendship, and my past self.

By the way, I have the one with aviator goggles (second from the right, next to Odie).

decision

Go.

maiden voyage

A mama hawk led five fledglings around the tips of the trees along the 401.

A niece and aunt wobbled their way into new (used) kayaks.

Final Tally:
-number of kayaks that stayed level for the voyage: 2
-number of fish seen on Lake St. Clair: 1 dead, 5 peeking through the water
-number of Seadoos that jostled us with their wakes: 3
-number of BBQs enticing us along the shore: 4
-number of "Sangria breaks" (who needs real hydration?): 5
-number of days I can wait before going out again: ZERO

It was so much fun...and relaxing...and...

(Happy Canada Day! I promise to post a photo from our adventure as soon as they're developed.)