Home again, home again, jiggidy jig.

I'm home, in East Texas where it's not certain whether the air is thicker with humidity or with mosquitos, where coffee drips from Mr. Coffee machines, and where the night air smells like falling in love. I wake up thinking I'm in Chile, start speaking in Spanish without realizing it, and continually forget that I can flush my toilet paper. And now I'm going to try to write a condensed run-down of the last leg of our trip.

In my last post I said we were going to Copacabana to spend the night. Well, that didn't end up happening. We got to the border after 3 hours in a bus, only to find out that Americans have to pay a $135 reciprocity fee each to cross the border, which was at least 4 times the amount of money we would have spent between the two of us to spend the night there. We stood our ground and argued in hopes that they might just let us slide under the radar, and the officer did offer us a shady deal where we would each only pay $50 each, but it was still too much, so with our heads hung low we walked back to the Peruvian side of the border, bought some potato chips and oreos, and waited pitifully for the bus to take us back to Puno. By this point we had already become bored with Puno, as there is really very little to do there other than depart for Lake Titicaca, which we had already done. But our mishap with Bolivia left us with another day and a half to kill in Puno. We found a cheaper hotel closer to the center, explored a little, and did everything we could think of to kill time, including watching The Patriot and Evan Almighty on tv. I am normally totally opposed to drowning out the real world in TV, but we were so numbed by our boredom that all we wanted was to forget the cold, forget Peru, and forget money. So we did. A full night's sleep helped restore our optimism the next day, and we happily spent the day wandering, exploring, talking about everything and nothing, buying silly hats, drinking coffee, and so forth.

the following night we borded the bus from Puno to Tacna, supposedly a 11 hour bus ride. However, when I woke up at 3am, the bus was not moving and there was ice on the windows. We were on top of a mountain, stuck in the snow. All the peruvians on the bus were prepared for the cold and had blankets draped over them, but Molly and I just had our coats. We tried spooning for warmth in the bus seats, but that was for the most part a failure. When the sun started to come out men began to get out in the snow to try to free the bus wheels. We would move a few meters, get stuck again, and then sit still for a while. They did not turn the heater on in the bus. This went on for nearly 6 hours before we finally gained momentum and started descending. In the end, the 11 hour bus ride turned into a 19 hour bus ride, putting us in Tacna without time to buy souveneirs like we had planned, or to eat -- which we hadn't really done in a while seeing as how we were trapped on a bus. So instead of eating or shopping we hurriedly paid way too much money (all the money we had left, in fact) for a taxi to the airport. However, when we got to the airport at 6:15 for our supposedly 7:40 flight, there was NOBODY there except for one security guard. "You here for the flight that leaves tomorrow morning?" he asked us. "Why no, we're here for the flight that leaves in an hour in a half" we told him. Turns out, there were no flights that day at all. You see, I thought I had bought tickets for the night of the 27th, but somehow I actually bought them for the morning of the 28th. We were 13 hours early for our flight, with no money, and no way to get any money. We were stuck. The security guard told us there was a flight at 1:30am for Santiago that we could maybe get on, so we crossed our fingers and waited. To kill time we bathed in the bathroom sinks, brushed up on our swing dance moves, experimented with new hair styles, and other such silliness that can only be done when one is alone in an empty airport. Thanks to God we were able to get on the 1:30am flight, so at last we were on our way home. Back at the Santiago airport we had to wait 3 hours for a bus to take us to the bus terminal so we could go to Valpo, so we finally got there at 8:30am.


Arriving in Valpo was one of the wordlessly best moments I have ever experienced in my life. The sunshine, the smells, the dogs -- it all smelled like home. After all our mishaps, francisco's smiling face and everything else about Valpo that makes it home quenched all our thirst, satisfied our hunger, and even temporarily made us forget our sleepiness. It was a perfect day, my skin tingling under the hot sun and the cool ocean air. We dumped our things in Francisco's room (which he had so kindly donated for our unpacking, packing, and sleeping purposes) and had a cup of coffee, and I nearly cried for happiness. I was home. I was with my family. We hugged MariaPaz, her mom, her dad, her dog.

We spent the next day or two doing all our "lasts" -- buying last gifts, taking last pictures, visiting friends for the last time... Wednesday night we had a despedida (going away party) with several of the friends we met here. I was kind of worried that it would be lame, since several of our friends couldn't make it, but at the last minute the guys from the tuna decided to come, and it was beautiful to see these friends from different places that we had met over the past 6 months all together, laughing and singing and sharing together. Fracisco's family offered to let the tunos stay at their house, so we all stayed up until 4:30am, not wanting this "last" to end. Thursday Molly and MariaPaz and I went for one last walk through Valpo, and finally we loaded our massive suitcases into the car and headed for Santiago. Francisco, Karenth, Jeisy, Marco, Julio, and Pipe all came to wave goodbye as we disappeared into the airport. We walked slowly, pulling the moment out as long as possible. I thought I was ready to leave until it came time to actually leave. But we had to, and next thing I knew we were on the airplane, surrounded by Texans. It was almost more than I could take -- the english, the texas twang, the burnt orange t-shirts... I wasn't expecting to be immersed in Texas so quickly. Then 1o hours later, there I was, we walked into the wall of humidity that waited for us outside the plane, and then into the arms of our loved ones.



So that's how it went down. We're out of South America, not quite sure when I'll be back, although I am certain it will be soon. It's hard to adjust to being here, but I am happy. Summers in Nacogdoches always fill me with an almost tangible excitement for the magic that can fill even the nothingness, like fireflies ascending into the black above.

Thank you for those of you who stayed with me all these months, it has been a great comfort to know that I was not traveling alone. For those who have followed and not commented, now is your chance to do so. ;)

Besitos y abrazos a todos,
Catie