When I finished my half marathon run in the morning, I got back to the hotel to find my ride to the airport already waiting for me. I had not even begun to pack. I asked him to give me 20 minutes so that I could get showered and packed.
I accomplished it all in my time frame. I got back down to the lobby and he said that we were a bit early to leave yet. So we sat there for almost an hour. Enough time for me to have visited the running store down the road to see if they had something that I just could not live without. Since he did not tell me that we would be waiting, I did not get a chance to go. (The Deaf are not known for being the most thoughtful communicators). But, that is the way life goes when you are being served by someone else.
My plane from LA to Mexico City was packed. I sat in the middle of three seats between a grandmother and middle aged lady. They both are US born citizens with Mexican heritage. Neither one speaks English, though they have lived in the US all their lives. I will say nothing more other than, frustrating.
The grandmother had to leave her 2 grandchildren behind (based on her age, they would be adult grandchildren) because they did not have all the proper paperwork to fly. They have applied for passports, but the passport offices are very far behind on filling orders. As a result, she had been crying when I sat down beside her.
I was just being me and tried to be kind to her, just as I would anyone else, and she really latched on to me. She loved the fact that I spoke about God like He was my friend and that I showed a concern about her situation. Needless to say, I was being kissed, like only a grandmother can, before our plane was even off the ground.
I made it to Mexico without too many more kisses.
Then I had to stand in the immigration line. I will forego the details in an effort to not incriminate myself in case I have done something wrong. Needless to say, I need to visit the local immigration office to straighten some stuff out. I may be able to blog about it later. Maybe not.
Immigration took over an hour and a half. By the time I got through, my plane should have already left 20 minutes earlier. I ran to the closest counter for my airline and asked them if the plane had left yet. I really had no hope that it was still there, but it was worth asking. It was!
He told me I needed to run down to the other end of the concourse to see if the plane had boarded yet. Remember that 13.27 mile run I did earlier in the day? I was feeling it by 9:00 that night. Plus I was then carrying a 25 pound backpack. I ran, but I probably did not set any records.
As soon as I got there and told them my name the lady behind the counter yelled out, “He’s here! Let’s go!” They had not even started boarding everyone else while they were waiting for me. I guess since my flight from LA to Merida was a direct flight with just a stop in Mexico to do Immigration, they held the plan until the last person made it through.
We arrived just over an hour late.