Horatio, where you at?

First off, that title will make absolutely no sense to anyone who doesn't watch CSI: Miami and know that Horatio is the lead boss man. It's basically just my way of saying that I'm here in Miami, bored out of my mind, but feeling the need to blog.

So my mental departure officially started on Thursday night, when I had my final dinner at Perez house. By special request, they had cooked all of my favorite items, which in retrospect, sound absolutely horrible as a complete meal. We began with Spaghetti, followed by pancakes covered in manjar blanco (the caramel spread), condensed milk, and strawberry jam, and ended with Mojitos. =) I know, absolutely no theme in there at all. It was such a great "Last Supper" though, because Marco, Yoco, Christian (our cook), and the kids (Tony and Monica) ate with us at the table, which they usually don't do. It was so awesome to have my final dinner be more or less compeltely in Spanish.

When dinner had ended, the Perezes went back to their part of the house, and we ended the night watching Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels. I have no idea why, but we were all way tired, and kept falling asleep through the movie. So we headed up, and I had my final sleepover in Perez house. =(

The next morning, I woke up (okay, fine, I was woken up) and went down for breakfast. Liz and Jake left to go buy their bus tickets for the Jungle, while I stayed home, doing some last minute packing before heading out to do the even more last minute souvenir shopping. It was nice to get out though, and get my last look at the city. (Of course, it wasn't really my last look, as we ventured out after lunch for our LAST last minute trip)

When I returned home, I found the two in the living room. I went up to my room and finished up my packing, which mostly meant putting away the toiletries and clothes I had worn the night before. I double and triple checked every drawer, closet and hidden space in our room, making sure I hadn't left anything crucial behind. I was sad however, to not find my sunglasses anywhere. They were only 10 soles though, so it's not too huge of a loss.

After my final lunch of chicken, papas fritas and vegetables, we cabbed up to pick up photos and buy friendship bracelets. And yes, friendship bracelets never go out of style if you have them with the right people.

So by the time we got back to the house, Marco still wasn't home to bring me to the airport. For some reason, today there was a huge parade going on, with people dancing in the streets and all that. (No really, they were doing their traditional dances in their traditional costumes, all while cars and taxis are trying to pass.)
It doesn't look like we'll be able to wait any longer, so Yoco helps us hail a taxi to the airport. The two help me load my luggage into the back, and off we go.

Now we get there, and the LAN worker tells me that I'm too late, and my flight is closed. I'm told I should've been here two hours before, instead of one, but I insist that he's absolutely ridiculous. This is the smallest airport I've ever been to, I don't see why two hours is needed, and my ticket only said one. Not wanting to deal with me, or Liz and Jake (who are also looking pretty pissed off at this point), the guy tells me to hurry up and head over to the counter. So my celebrity card begins, and my name is being walkie talkied to each checkpoint. Of course, as I try to get into the departure lounge, the lady unkindly reminds me that I haven't paid my tariff yet, so we run all the way back downstairs to do that. And then up again we go, this time making it successfully past the woman, as I frantically hug Liz and Jake, and blow them kisses and run through security and towards Gate 4.
"Morgan Ashley?" the girl at the gate asks, as I nod, mostly because I'm out of breath. "Hurry," she tells me, and I oblige. I still can't understand why this all had to happen this way, when I still had about an hour, and when the plane left at 1520 instead of 1400.

Of course after all of the adrenaline rush, silly little me ends up bawling the moment I sit down in my seat. The sadness of leaving what had come to be my second family, a city I loved, and a life I had adjusted to, mixed with the anxiety of being denied passage onto my flight, with the pinch of annoyance in knowing the long layovers that waited ahead for me, ended up being more than I could contain, so I just let it out. Soon after, the snack cart came by, and I was consoled by some familiar Peruvian snacks such as chocolate with peanuts, and my last legal can of Cusquena. =)

The flight was quick, and I soon landed in Lima, unsure of what to do with my time. So I take a taxi over to Miraflores, and end up using the phone and internet for a couple of hours, before ending my little moment in Lima with a sausage, mushroom and onion pizza at a little joint called Piccolo's. The pizza was probably the closest I had had to American style pizza, and only 2 bucks. The whole Lima thing was a bit sketchy, being so far from the airport, it being nighttime, and having images of my friend getting mugged here two months earlier the entire time. Still, I held my own, convincing myself that my inner city upbringing had prepared me for this, and remembering an Oprah episode where they talked about self-defense for women, and just told myself that if I didn't act like a target, I wouldn't be one. The scariest moment was probably the fact that my taxi kept stalling out, and I was convinced I wouldn't make it back to the airport.

Somehow, my Lima layover had escaped from me, and it was time for me to head on over to Miami. Now this flight wasn't as great as the Cusco-Lima flight, but still quite problem-less. Except for a good five-ten minutes of scary turbulence, I slept like a baby for a good deal of the flight, not even making it through Mamma Mia. And the food! MMMMM. I had a mushroom tortellini in cream sauce as my main dish, with a great little salad, followed by Tres Leche for dessert! How amazingly satisfying does that sound?

Well, I've been here in Miami now for about 5 hours, and I don't think I'll be leaving. The problem is that though I had wished to go out, it's looking like it'll be 20 bucks taxi ride just to leave this place. Gosh darn it, I miss Cusco already. Still, I've had a good 5 hours, managing to:
- Raise suspicions at customs again, where I had this stimulating conversation:
Security: "Where are you coming from?"
Me: "Peru."
Security: "How long have you been there?"
Me: "Two months."
Security: "What were you doing there?"
Me: "Volunteering..."
Security: "Volunteering for what?"
Me: "A children's center."
Security: "What was the name?"
Me: "Madre Teresa de Calcutta..."
Security: "Keep going, what'd you do there?"
Me: "Feed babies."
Security: "Feed babies and what else?"
Me: "Feed babies and change diapers?"
Security: "Alright, you can go."
- Get a Chicken Caesar Salad and Pomegranate Iced Tea for breakfast at Starbuck's at 7 in the morning.
- People watch outside in the little smoking courtyard.

Anywho, I'll update again with what will be the final update once I get back home to the city. Until then, missing you all.

xxoo Morgan