My journey to Honduras began with a plane to Mexico City and a little girl in front of my seat singing, Frère Jacques, Frère Jacques. After wondering if anyone was sitting behind her she looked back and I said hi. She replied hi, Im Giá Leona. We didnt say much after our introductions but near the end of our flight she reached her arm behind her seat to hold hands with me. It was serene. Once we landed in Mexico City the serenity dissipated and the reality of my journey hit me - Im not in America anymore. I followed the signs like a lost puppy to my connecting terminal. I did not know or understand why in order to connect to my flight I had to go to baggage claim or through immigration. As it turns out, its how you fly when youre a foreigner. While checking on my connecting flight, at customer service, there was a man from Australia in a panic. He was about to miss his plane because his credit card would not process on their machine to get his Mexican Visa, which he needed in order to board his flight to Cuba. He was out of pesos because he had to take taxis back and forth through the New Mexico airport as a result of this issue. His shirt was soaked in sweat and twenty dollars is what stood between this man, his destination, and the prospect of being stuck in Mexico City. To think if I were in his shoes I would not want to miss my flight and be stuck in a city or a country where I had had so many issues. The airline was calling the final boarding notice and stating they were going to close the gate. I couldnt bare the thought of knowing I could help, naturally I got involved and offered my card to pay for his visa. With one swipe and my signature James was able to run and catch the plane before they closed the doors. We exchanged emails and he offered 50 Au for my help. Fortunately I boarded my flight with only a 45 minute delay being an issue. I discovered while in line to board the woman I sat next to on my Houston to New Mexico flight was traveling the same connections. The man I say next to on the Mexico City to San Pedro Sula airport is from Utila. He offered advise and eased my nerves but did comment for my safety that he would make sure I got my flight to Utila once we landed because San Pedro isnt safe. Since landing in Utila life is great. The town is shaky, the roads are narrow, and everyone drives four wheelers, dirt bikes, or walks. Its paradise! There are other young travelers, everyone speaks English, and life feels simple and easy. Today is beautiful, theres a light breeze coming in from the ocean, and I have made a number of friends.
Posted on: Sun, 24 Nov 2013 19:34:42 +0000