Bienvenidos a Los Estados Unidos
// December 4th, 2009 // I just started writing and..., Life
Oh, how I longed to hear those words. Ok, so maybe I longed for them in English, but I heard them in Spanish first and rejoiced. Then I realized that instead of being home, I was in Dallas, Texas, where it was pouring down rain and actually colder than Seattle at the time.
Anyway, I suppose I should recount the hilarity that always seems to accompany me on my traveling adventures.
At 1am on December 1st, I left our house. Richie, Jen, and Rachel accompanied me in our van after the three of them had spent a good chunk of the day arguing over who would get to take me. Eventually, we realized that Steve had the truck keys, so we had to take the van, which meant everyone could fit and we could have a grand adventure. Being an adventure, we all simultaneously decided to adopt outrageous accents. After “freerunning” around the Wallmart parking lot, we finally headed off to the bus station, where I managed to speak clearly and thoroughly in Spanish with the ticket agent. I was a bit stunned. Maybe I should always be exhausted when I’m trying to speak Spanish.
I purchased my bus ticket to Puerto Vallarta for the 1:40am bus, then sat down with the three hooligans for a while before they realized I’d be perfectly fine without them there (to be honest, I was sad when they left and had very little to do). I hopped onto my bus and settled in for a nap that never came. I tried to sleep. I was sleepy. I was sitting in a very comfortable chair. The bus was quiet and incredibly smooth-driving. There was one issue, however. The bus was at least 90 degrees. Seriously, the bus driver must have blown right past “heat” on the dial and right on into the “fiery pits of hell” setting. So how hot was it? I’ll tell you how hot it was. It was so hot, I stripped down naked and put ice packs all over my body and was still sweating. It was so hot, the demons left everyone on the bus and retreated to Hell for some reprieve. It was so hot…ok, so it wasn’t THAT hot. But I was still sweating so badly that I couldn’t sleep. Not my favorite way to start a 27 hour journey.
We arrived in Puerto Vallarta around 6:15am. It was still dark. After grabbing my luggage (I packed light enough that I only had a backpack and a carry-on), I sauntered up to a group of cabbies and asked where the best breakfast on the beach was. They all gave different answers, so I went with the one who described the food the best (story-tellers know food, am I right?). We meandered through the beautiful buildings and palm-lined parkways until we finally arrived at a dead end that was about 20 feet from the beach. Then I discovered I only had 50 pesos, so we had to scoot over to an atm. I think he expected me to bolt, but I paid his full fair of course (the guy did swindle me a bit, but he was getting me to beachfront and delicious food, so I let it slide).
That’s when I found out that nobody was open until 7:30, and there was no way I could afford those restaurants. And the beach was dark. And cold. And rainy. I still got to stare out for a while admiring the absolute creativity and beauty involved in God’s creating this earth. Seriously, He knew what He was doing, and it was done well. Eventually, after being soaked in a combination of sweat, sea water, and rain, I decided to find a bus to the airport. I had to ask a few bus drivers, but I finally found the spot to wait at and got on the right bus.
I waltzed over to the Mexicana check-in and had a nice 15 minute conversation with the lonely attendant. We talked international politics, the greater ramifications of life decisions, the meaning of life, and Jesus. It was nice. Then a family finally showed up and I noticed they were speaking in both Spanish and English. Seeing as how we all had to wait for the security personnel to arrive before we could proceed with our day, I struck up conversation in Spanish with the dad (Rogelio). We talked a little bit about Spanish and my purpose in Mexico before I asked where they were headed for vacation. He then replied that they had just finished their vacation and were now headed back home in the States. I asked where they were from. He said Washington. I asked where at in Washington. He said Yakima. I said no way. I said I lived on Naches Avenue and Martin Luther King. He asked why I lived in such a bad area, then said they were actually from Sunnyside.
We eventually found out that they were headed through Mexico City, then Phoenix, then Seattle, whereas I was flying Mexico City, Dallas, Seattle. The security guy finally showed up and we separated for an hour or so. I had some breakfast, read some of Hebrews and Romans, then headed to Starbucks to sneak a wireless signal for my computer. There, I met a couple guys from Chicago who were having trouble getting in touch with their hotel, so I looked up a phone number for them.
When I headed over to the gate for my flight, I reunited with the Sunnyside family and asked if they knew how to get onto the airport shuttle from Seatac to Yakima. Instead of answering me, they decided they wanted to drive me home after their flight got in. I was floored. God provides in such creative ways.
The flight from Puerto Vallarta to Mexico City was mostly uneventful. I sat with an empty seat between myself and a really nice kid who plays soccer for a second division club in Mexico, but who spent two years playing at San Diego State University. We talked a lot about soccer, California, future business planning, and Jesus. We talked about laying up treasure in Heaven instead of on earth, but at the same time being responsible stewards of what God has put into our hands. It was very beneficial for him, as by the end of the conversation he’d decided to go back to school and make sure he had a plan for life after soccer.
I met a few really delightful people in Mexico City. One was a girl from Tyler, Texas who sat next to me in the airport. The other was a British girl who grew up in Holland, but was now flying from deep in Southern Mexico after studying political corruption (she’s a social geography major) and taking a trip to a rural part of Argentina to study there for a couple weeks. The British girl had sat across from me while I was sitting down at my gate, reading and listening to music. I couldn’t help but notice her awesome shoes (they had a monster from Where the Wild Things Are) and made a comment. She blushed and said thank you. Then we both went back to what we were doing. She ended up sitting next to me on the plane (with an empty seat between us. I have no idea how I managed to get that arrangement twice), so we talked the whole way from Mexico City to Dallas. I remember one moment in particular where we both looked out the window down onto the clouds as we were skimming across the tops of them. The sun was just dipping beneath them, illuminating each particle in brilliant shades of orange, red, purple, pink, and yellow, while the moon was rising in a crystal blue sky, full and bright. It was one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen.
When we finally landed in Dallas, it was night, cold, and rainy. We had plans to meet up for dinner on the other side of customs, but I never found her. It was a bit sad, but then I remembered I had a US phone I very badly needed to check. Life got busy at that point. Texts, tweets, voicemails, calls, you name it. I had a lot of catching up to do.
The flight from Dallas to Seattle finally caught up with me. It was a packed flight and neither of the people I sat between was in the mood to talk, so I just watched UP! on the in-flight movie. I really liked it. It was cute. We touched down in Seattle around 10:45pm. (Accounting for the two hour time difference, 11pm ushered in hour 24 of travel and hour 40 of being awake.) The Sunnyside family landed at 10:57, so I met up with them at their baggage claim, we hopped in a hotel shuttle, hopped in their car, and headed home. After getting lost several times, the dad finally took my directions and we got onto the freeway. That’s when the mom started asking me everything there is to know about the differences between Mexican Catholicism and Assemblies of God doctrines. I must say, that was an absolutely wonderful conversation and it kept us all awake until we got to Yakima and dropped me off at Wallmart, where Kim and Thayne picked me up about 10 seconds after the family drove away. The timing was impeccable. It was still at 3:15am though, so I was tired.
They took me back to Thayne’s place and he and I stayed up watching some ridiculous tv show called Tim and Erik Awesome Show Great Job. It was absolutely hilarious and we stayed up watching that and wasting time with our laptops open until after 5am. It was a delightful way to end an amazing trip.
Now I’m here in Yakima and staying at a different friend’s house for the remainder of my time here. I’m pretty sure I found a job for while I’m here, I get to speak at a church this Sunday, and I have a bit of homework to finish while balancing time with many many friends and families here. I love this life.