So here I am, at a round table with a top that's meant to look like wood but isn't. There are five such tables in this area; one person sitting at each with a laptop per person. It would seem that even when we take our technology into the public sector, we would prefer to pretend we're alone.
According to the cool, polite announcement lady's voice, the current threat level is orange, which means I shouldn't leave my baggage unattended, or someone will come steal it.
You know, I'm not usually a violent person, but the thought of someone stealing my luggage at this point in my journey makes me feel a little...twitchy. Like if that were to happen, I might just barrel after the would-be thieves and tackle them mercilessly down to the ugly blue-and-beige airport carpet.
Seriously? If they had any idea how much thought and planning and time and money went into buying the stuff in those suitcases....strategic toiletries (the kind that cost little enough in Ohio and enough more in Quito to make it worthwhile to import them); carefully selected exercise, walking, and work shoes; work clothes; chocolate chips for two special occasions this year; prize box items for a fellow teacher who's not coming home this summer; my new and VERY exciting food processor; and the list goes on....I'm sure they'd choose to rob someone else. Someone more worthy of being the victim of random crime. Besides, all this doesn't even take into account the time, effort, and strategy involved in packing all this stuff into my allotted two, 50-pound bags. Yah, I might put up a fight for these bags.
But I digress. I wanted to say that this morning, as I breathed deeply to fight down the anxiety that always rises up on the way to the airport, I thought for the first time, "If this is the last time I drive to the airport to MOVE somewhere, that would probably be ok." That's not to say that it WILL be the last time, or even that I really want it to be, but just that if so, it's ok.
I almost said it out loud to Dad and Sue, but I didn't want to get their hopes up. Sure, they both would have the rest of this day for themselves, having waved goodbye from the far side of the security check gate around 9am, but let's be honest- who actually gets excited about an airport run? I can see someone not minding it too much (as my dad always claims; though I often wonder if he's just being gracious because, let's be honest; someone has to do it), but really enjoying the trip? Prolly not. And so I didn't tell them. Besides, my dad would probably roll his eyes and say to himself, "We'll see about that..." And he could easily be right.
But all that aside, I find it interesting that I'm entering this third year in Ecuador without much direction or expectation, and that I'm ok with that. For now. I feel ok about this being my last year. I also feel nearly ok about the possibility that it won't be. That's a little weird for me. I'm not usually one to be at a loss for an opinion, and usually a pretty strong one. I don't anticipate this strange ambiguity to last very long, but in the meantime, I suppose I should appreciate it. And so, off I go, to do just that.
Appreciate my indecisiveness.
Listen to other peoples' one-sided business calls.
Watch people be "airport weird".
Be astonished at the highway robbery which is airport food.
Check the clock.
Make sure my tray table is safely stowed away.
Wish that I hadn't been so stingy and had gotten that u-shaped neck pillow after all.
Pray for good connections for my bags and myself.
And wonder about the future.
What are YOU doing today? :)
