Playing a bit of catch up: It was a long and round about route to Buenos Aires, taking us through Miami, Panama, Bocas, Costa Rica, a short stop in Lima and then finally. Here.
Miami: Quick stop. Just running from gate to gate. We arrived late, so I wasn't sure we'd make our connecting flight. I asked a woman dressed in an official looking blue uniform how to get to our connecting gate.
"Turn left, then right at the sign," but clearly, she was disinterested.
What she failed to mention is that after turning right, you walk straight for ten minutes, then turn again, keep going, then up the stairs, onto a train. Once the train arrives, you take it I-don't-remember-how-many stops to another building where you keep walking until you reach a crowded waiting room in bad need of rennovation.
We made the flight, just barely. But Lila was hungry and we had no time to stop for food or at duty free for a bottle of wine (Sorry, Randall, at least I brought the M&Ms).
Panama: We arrive in the evening. The airport is packed. We wait for visas, wait for customs, wait for luggage, wait for immigration. Wait, while all the while Lila is still hungry and asking for food where there is no food. I'll admit, thought, she was unbelievably mature about it. It did break my heart, though, when she asked "Why, Mama, did you leave the marshmallows and chocolate chips on the airplane." She asked over and over and over. "I would eat them now," she told me. Even thought she hadn't wanted them on the plane.
IT WAS A MISTAKE. I DIDN'T MEAN TO LEAVE THEM IN THE FRONT SEAT POCKET WITH THE SAFETY CARD AND BARF BAG!!!! I'M SORRY.
Fred's car glided by Tocumen exit just as we walked out. Perfect timing. Thank you again to him for driving through the traffic and pouring rain to get us. We stayed up late talking. Then up early, early for Fred and Mel's new baby's naming. Ilana. She is adorable, looks just like Fred and is quite a child. You can tell she wants to be a part of everything.
I'd like to also add a quick thank you to Rochelle and Mark (friends of Fredd and Mel's) who had us over for Thanksgiving dinner. I love the holiday and was sad to miss it. They even had stuffing. Because really, what is Thanksgiving without stuffing?
That's when we learned of the flooding and mudslides in Bocas. "No way you're going," everyone told us. But I still saw updates on Facebook from friends there. They didn't even mention the rain. How bad could it be? We go anyway.
Of course, we almost don't make our flight because the alarm doesn't go off, and we wake up at the exact time we are supposed to be at the airport. Still, we jump around, shower, grab Lila still asleep and run for a cab to the airport making it just in time. Barely. (So now you know you can be late to catch the flight to Bocas and still be first on the flight if you have a child.)
We spent most of our time with Ozzy and Trevor. They lived in the house behind ours last year. Now, they've moved further down the beach. Ozzy cooked her amazing Turkish food. We hung out, talked, drank wine, and gossipped (once again) about everything we'd missed in Bocas over the six months.
A hawk perched on the tree outside the house, calling and singing while all the tomcats of the island prowled around looking for, well, I'm not quite sure what they wanted, because there weren't any eager female cats around.
What is it with all this bird imagery? First the cardinal in Atlanta. A very unexpected Thanksgiving turkey, and now the hawk. If life is art, then someone is trying to tell us something.
I choose to think it's something good.
(More on the rest of the trip to come... specifically with pictures. Some really lovely ones from a cloud forest in Costa Rica, outside of San Ramon.)
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