Two years ago, I flew from New Jersey to Honduras with the rest of my team, but last year I flew directly from Texas to SPS. I remembered the airport (though it was under construction the first time I went through it, so it wasn't exactly as I recalled), and I felt reasonably confident about my ability to get out of it in one piece. But there are always things you don't think of, and travel lovers know that they can either discourage you from traveling, or you can laugh and learn.
When I got through customs on the Honduras side, it kicked me out into the baggage claim area. Last time, I just stood around as a placeholder while other people piled bags all around me. This time, I had to find my bags myself. There were bags still coming onto the carousel regularly, so I skirted around the giant pile of bags on the floor where a few kids were standing guard and made my way to the conveyor belt. I waited for my bag, and waited, and waited...I recognized people from my airplane coming and going, and mine didn't show up. There was a lull of a few minutes where I began to despair that they were done, but then it started moving again and I felt renewed hope. But after another 15 minutes of watching the carousel, and another wane in the oncoming suitcases, my luggage still hadn't appeared. I started thinking seriously about what I would have to do if my luggage really was lost. I looked around trying to locate the customer care center (or the Honduran equivalent) and actually laughed out loud when I mentally compared DFW's airline customer centers to the SPS airport. I saw someplace that I thought MIGHT be where you go if your bag is lost, and I had almost decided to go there when I noticed something.
The big pile of bags was still behind me, but the two kids standing with it were gone.
While I was watching, someone walked up to the pile of bags, grabbed one, and walked away. My first thought was horror that I had just witnessed a theft, but then common sense kicked in and I thought, "Wait a minute...."
I circled the big pile, and sure enough, there were my two suitcases, at either end, just waiting to be claimed. They had been moved off the conveyor belt to make room during the rush while people were still stuck going through customs. It made sense after I thought about it, of course. I marveled that I had just spent nearly half an hour trying to find something that was right there next to me, and it was one of those moments where I had to decide if it was going to bug me or not. I decided to laugh, because really, it was funny. And now I know.
I also got horribly sick in MAMA Project's brand new van. It was a combination of exhaustion-induced migraine and an hour in stop-and-go city traffic. I felt horribly embarrassed and Mary, in her sweet and matter of fact way, kept insisting, "Don't worry Shannon, it's just puke." It's pretty unusual for me to get so motion sick, but this time I am heading out armed with sea bands (according to Josh, the close cousin of voodoo), crystallized ginger, and if all else fails, OTC medicine. Just in case....because now I know.
I spent the whole afternoon today spending money. I had some donations given to me beyond what I needed for the actual cost of my trip, so I spent it on stuffed animals, hair accessories, brushes, umbrellas, pot holders, sewing kits, etc. Divided over two weeks it still seems like such a small amount, but I am grateful for it being so much more than it would have been otherwise.
Southbound in seven days, and counting...
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