Today I woke up at 6:30am in Cartagena, Colombia to the sound of birds and salsa music and some guy whistling in the garage of the building I'm living in. I had dust on the parts of my body that were outside the blanket and my skin was slightly damp from the pre-perspiration that glazes my body 99% of the time. I made sure I had all the necessary things in my gym bag and computer bag, washed the dishes in Carmen's sink, and set off on foot to the airport 2 blocks away. The streets were desserted because it was Sunday and Lord knows the Colombians found a reason to party Saturday night. As we entered the airport all we had to do was look across the fieldhouse sized building that the Cartagena International Airport is to see the line in front of Avianca; everyone is flying to Miami today! After repeated safety measures (I was frisked twice) we ended up in a "terminal lounge" consisting of wooden connected beach-like chairs. I bought a coffee (Colombians do kid-sized coffee, but at least it's delicious) and a chicken and potato empanada for breakfast for $3 and sat down to await the final baggage check (as you leave the door to the stairs outside the airplane they take one last look in your carry-ons). Two and a half hours, one delicious airplane meal, most of Whatever It Takes (movie), another coffee, cup of coke, and half cup of beer, and amazingly aircondidtioned trip through the warm and cuddly US Customs Check Point later, I'm in Miami, FL whizzing by canals and sky-scrapers and $15 NY Style Deli sandwiches. After moving stuff into a pretty nice Hostel (South Beach Hostel in Miami Beach), Ryan and I took off walking to try to find a grocery store to purchase necessary food items (having deemed Miami too expensive for our meager budgets). We took a detour to the beach (beautiful!) but eventually found some mostly Latin Food Marts. And here I found my necessities: a bag of Cheetos, a Little Debbie snack, a large bottle of water, a giant pack of saltines, and a block of cheddar cheese. While purchasing said necessities the man at the counter asked me "So where are you from?" I replied that I was from MN but living in Colombia right now. He opened his eyes wide and stared at me then asked, "isn't it like, dangerous there?" I laughed and said "is it dangerous in Miami? Where are you from?" He replied that he was from Puerto Rico. Colombia's bad reputation beats even the most dangerous of US cities. It's funny to think that most of the cocaine that people use in the crazy Miami nightlife probably originates in Colombia too. :p However, I wouldn't know the first thing about that, and I was hungry as hell.
The walk back to the hostel was treacherous as I was nearly dying of hunger (which lately has been my MO, and a terribly terrible idea because I always get grumpy when there's not a bolus of sustainence in my belly). When we returned we sat down in the lobby to enjoy the Lakers/Celtics game and eat. What do you think I ate first? The crackers and cheese of course, but without any cutting utinsil I was forced to take mini-bites of the cheese and chase them with the crackers. I can only hope whoever saw me found some humor in a nice looking girl eating a block of cheese straight. This is what visiting Miami for the sole purpose of a visa looks like. :) A block of cheese.
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