Leaving Home

I woke early on the 11th. I showered and dressed and prepared myself for a long day of travel. I reviewed the contents of my luggage one last time before locking them up. Sleeping bag...check. Binoculars...check. First Aid Kit...check. Insect repellant, flashlight, rain gear, Pepto Bismo...check, check, check, check. I made sure one last time that my carry on luggage did not contain liquids or gels of more than 100ml (no sense getting held up at airport security). I tied my running shoes, grabbed my jacket and headed down the stairs stopping only to gently plant kisses on the forehead of my two sleeping angels. I knew already that I would miss them terribly when I was away.

I got into my car and prepared to drive myself to the airport. My sister had offered to drive me, but I prefer to do things on my own. It allows me the freedom to be spontaneous and keeps me from straining to fit into the schedules of others.

The driving was good; the highways were clear and traffic was light. I realized about 15 minutes into my journey that I hadn't left myself a lot of time. I probably should have left home at 3:15 am instead of at 3:45. No sense worrying about that now. I pushed a little harder on the accelerator. I took the Bronson exit and headed towards the Airport Parkway. I briefly entertained the notion of stopping for coffee, but decided instead to postpone that treat until I was seated safely at my gate.

More cars were starting to join me on my journey to the airport. We danced and wove our way through the streets until we arrived at the Airport Parkway where we settled into single file. I checked the clock - 4:05 a.m. -- I wished I had left earlier. "Please help me get to the gate on time Lord," I say. I follow the cab in front of me as we continue down the parkway. The road is dark, the sky is overcast and there is no moonlight to help me see. I begin to spot signs for the Park & Ride and realize that I am getting close. I see lights in the distance. "Must be the traffic lights at the airport," I think. As I approach the lights however, I moan under my breath. There's been an accident at the intersection. Where I should be turning left into the long-term parking lot, two police cars act as a barricade. "Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no," I repeat out loud, "please help me find my way Lord."

I followed the road to the arrivals lane. I ease my way past the entrance to the airport and its long line of taxi cabs. I continue past the airport and approach the accident from a new direction. I press on the brakes as an officer motions for me to slow down. I turn right into the long-term parking and a white van is blocking my path. I can't tell if I am supposed to stay behind the van or go around it. I decide to go around and see that the front end of the van is missing. Clearly this was one of the cars involved in the accident.

I punch the button on the electronic parking attendant and retrieve my ticket as I enter into the long term parking lot. I begin to snake my way through the rows of parked cars. P1, no empty spaces; P2, no empty spaces; P3, no empty spaces. I turn down P4 and mutter, "Isn't anybody coming home?" I find a spot in P5. It appears to be the only parking space that has not been cleared in the last month. I try to back in and my tires spin on the ice and snow. I shoot forward, throw the car into reverse and then stomp on the gas pedal. I bounce into the spot and jam the car into park stealing a look at the clock - 4:12 a.m. "Gotta run!"

I grab my bags from the backseat, lock the car and run towards the airport. The wind tears at my skin and my hands begin to ache with the cold. In the absence of mittens, I pulled my sleeves down over my hands. My eyes begin to water and I try to blink them away. I finally see the entrance in front of me and I jog towards the door. It feels great to be inside again. I put down my bag and rub my hands together.

I go to the web-check in counter and hand over one of my bags. The lovely lady informs me that she checked them all the way through to Tuxtla. What a relief! I grab my backpack and my camera and head towards the departures gate. There is barely a lineup at the pre-boarding security check and I am at my gate in just a few minutes.

I drop down into my seat and put my head in my hands. I'm here. I made it, and I have time to spare. I pull out my reading material and begin the task of researching my destination.

Chiapas:

• is the southern most state of Mexico;
• has an area of 74,211 km²;
• has a population of 4,293,459; a quarter of which is made up of individuals who are full or predominantly of Mayan descent;
• suffers from the highest malnutrition rate in Mexico;
• was the site of a violent uprising in 1994 when the Zapatista Army of National Liberation (EZLN) fought the Mexican government's treatment of its indigenous people; and
• is home to over 32 "rebel autonomous Zapatista municipalities."

An announcer tells me that my flight is about to board. I gather up my reading materials and fish my passport out of my purse. As I stroll down the runway, I smile in anticipation of what is going to be the adventure of a lifetime. I find my window seat and nearly burst with joy when I see that there is no seat in front of me. I stretch out my legs and lean back in my seat as I close my eyes. It was an early day, I think to myself, I think I'll catch a nap.