I had a great flight in. First, I was still drunk while boarding the plane, so I didn't have my normal flight fear. Second, I was seated in first class even in my ratty clothes I wore. Third, I was on the way to Costa Rica!! It was a very smooth flight, and as soon as I woke up from my brief nap, breakfast was brought over to me along with, "is there anything else you need, very important lady?" Well, it didn't go quite that way, but that's how I felt.
I spent a few hours of that day in bed. Still hungover. I wasn't going to drink again for a long while. I didn't start working on the Costa Rica survey itself until the next day.
I went in to a Kenneth Cole one day and one of the employees offered to give me a printout of all of the inventory with the prices and even sign it at the bottom. I still wonder if they realized what exactly I was there for... I was thinking maybe they mistook me for a global manager of Kenneth Cole or something, but I had no problem with it. I was very thankful! I didn't even need to look at the prices they just told them to me automatically.
I did some work, but mostly had fun. My hotel (Courtyard Marriot) was located in a plaza with a ton of amazing restaurants, from sushi, to peruvian, cuban, italian, argentinian, etc. etc. I ate at the peruvian place and the cuban place AND a sushi place, and it was all amazing. I had soft kernals of unpopped popcorn at the peruvian place, and it was so wonderful. My taxi driver took me out to dinner at a place where everyone was dressed in 50's clothes and they served typical Costa Rican food. He kept asking if I had a boyfriend, if I ever had a boyfriend from someone I met traveling, and when I said no and no, he asked if I like girls, no... he just couldn't understand why I didn't have a boyfriend. I told him that's not unusual at my age in the United States. I agreed to go out dancing with him one night to a club downtown, and it was a great time. He taught me a few different types of typical spanish dances, and then of course, tried to make out with me while sitting at a table where everyone around us was making out (not unusual for other cultures) and I had to politely back away. Apparently he was hoping to become my boyfriend before I left Costa Rica. I appreciated the free taxi rides but explained that no I'm sorry, that's just not going to work out. He seemed pretty determined that it would before I left the country. As fun as it was, I obviously made it a point not to see him again!
While in Costa Rica, I also met another guy who was just wonderful. He was older, I never found out exactly how old (maybe my senior by 10-15 years?) - but he was the regional director for a company that creates tastes and smells for food companies; the largest client of theirs which is Kraft. I thought his job was pretty amazing, given my love for food. He was Columbian. He was polite, professional, and entertaining. We met one day while working downstairs in the lobby - it was 10 at night and we both had our computers open working away. The only ones there in the restaurant (restaurant was in the lobby). We started talking across tables, and he eventually joined me for a beer. After about 20 minutes, we both needed to head to bed, so we decided to meet up the next night to grab some drinks and keep chatting. I think that I had a mini non-sexual crush on him, or maybe I had a crush on his job, I'm not sure which - which I realized when at some point I noticed that I had a hard time not smiling when talking to him. We were so much alike; we both loved food and to travel, and our conversation never got awkward. He really enjoyed practicing his english - he spoke well but frequently got caught up on difficult words. The next night we were up until 1 am eating sushi and drinking mojitos, chatting away about our completely different lives that surprisingly were alike in so many small ways, and when we parted, it was like old friends saying goodbye, I'll see you next time. We both appreciated meeting good people and having great conversations while on our travels and I think that made our connection as strong as it was. Plus, he told me that he heard me speaking spanish apparently "without an accent". That definitely gave him some brownie points in my book!
Sunday, April 19, 2009
SPS in a nutshell
San Pedro Sula, Honduras was not as eventful as Tegucigalpa was. I got in on a very unusually rainy evening, so rainy the streets were flooding everywhere. The city was similar. There were still security men with guns everywhere and my taxi cabs all still had tinted windows for protection. Plus, at a whopping 5'3", I was still one of the tallest people around.
I stayed in an Intercontinental again, but it wasn't as nice as the one in Tegucigalpa. The bed was just as great though. The people in SPS were nicer than in Tegucigalpa. I met a guy who owned a car dealership and took me around personally to everyone that I needed to talk to, and meanwhile told me all about his adventures in going to school in Germany and tried speaking in German to me but I told him in spanish that I couldn't speak German. Outside the same dealership, an older man (like 75 years old, older) started hitting on me and gave me his number so that we could hang out later. Seriously.
I befriended two store managers - one which sends me emails now in spanglish because he wants to practice writing the words he knows in english, which isn't many. The other one (a lady) wanted my phone number for if she moves to California, because then she'll have a friend in the United States. Maybe she didn't realize how far away California was from Boston. But, she bought me a burrito dinner at the grocery store (which was surprisingly very good, but she told me not to have too many of them cause they would make me fat), and then as I was working she would continuously come up to me and start talking, or just stand next to me. As I was waiting for my taxi outside, she brought me more snacks from the grocery store. Very nice lady. Also, my taxi driver who I only used on one particular day calls me now every other day, still - and tells me he is very happy to hear my voice, and asks me how I am. Before he hangs up, he never fails to say "God bless you" in english.
Aside from the beds, the other great thing about Intercontinentals is the FOOD! Fresh-squeezed juice of every kind was available daily. There weren't a whole lot of places to eat, so I ate at the hotel a lot cause the food was so good. One night during dinner I met a doctor from Belize, who talked way too much but he sure was a smart guy. Another night, there were a couple older men sitting next to me and one said "buen provecho" to me when he walked by - after my convo with Fausto, I knew that I was being hit on. So, as anticipated, he kept asking me questions and invited me to have a few beers with them. But, I had plans with one of the younger real estate agents to go out for drinks, so I couldn't stay anyways. After getting ready to go, I ran into them on the way out and realized one of them would be on my flight the next day to Costa Rica (the one that wasn't talking much). The other guy told me to stop by when I got home and knock on his door and have a beer. Really? Regardless, I went out and had a great time, had too much to drink, and of course didn't knock on his door when I got home. It's a miracle that I even woke up the next morning, and after waking up late, it was another miracle that I made it to the airport before the airplane took off.
I stayed in an Intercontinental again, but it wasn't as nice as the one in Tegucigalpa. The bed was just as great though. The people in SPS were nicer than in Tegucigalpa. I met a guy who owned a car dealership and took me around personally to everyone that I needed to talk to, and meanwhile told me all about his adventures in going to school in Germany and tried speaking in German to me but I told him in spanish that I couldn't speak German. Outside the same dealership, an older man (like 75 years old, older) started hitting on me and gave me his number so that we could hang out later. Seriously.
I befriended two store managers - one which sends me emails now in spanglish because he wants to practice writing the words he knows in english, which isn't many. The other one (a lady) wanted my phone number for if she moves to California, because then she'll have a friend in the United States. Maybe she didn't realize how far away California was from Boston. But, she bought me a burrito dinner at the grocery store (which was surprisingly very good, but she told me not to have too many of them cause they would make me fat), and then as I was working she would continuously come up to me and start talking, or just stand next to me. As I was waiting for my taxi outside, she brought me more snacks from the grocery store. Very nice lady. Also, my taxi driver who I only used on one particular day calls me now every other day, still - and tells me he is very happy to hear my voice, and asks me how I am. Before he hangs up, he never fails to say "God bless you" in english.
Aside from the beds, the other great thing about Intercontinentals is the FOOD! Fresh-squeezed juice of every kind was available daily. There weren't a whole lot of places to eat, so I ate at the hotel a lot cause the food was so good. One night during dinner I met a doctor from Belize, who talked way too much but he sure was a smart guy. Another night, there were a couple older men sitting next to me and one said "buen provecho" to me when he walked by - after my convo with Fausto, I knew that I was being hit on. So, as anticipated, he kept asking me questions and invited me to have a few beers with them. But, I had plans with one of the younger real estate agents to go out for drinks, so I couldn't stay anyways. After getting ready to go, I ran into them on the way out and realized one of them would be on my flight the next day to Costa Rica (the one that wasn't talking much). The other guy told me to stop by when I got home and knock on his door and have a beer. Really? Regardless, I went out and had a great time, had too much to drink, and of course didn't knock on his door when I got home. It's a miracle that I even woke up the next morning, and after waking up late, it was another miracle that I made it to the airport before the airplane took off.
Buen Provecho
Fausto... where to start with him. He was one of the real estate agents that I met with while in Tegucigalpa. He was full of himself, but very nice at the same time. If you can picture that. He was a very good-looking guy in his mid-thirties, never been married. Engaged once. Lived in Miami for a few years of his life, and spoke perfect english, almost to the point of not having an accent when he spoke. He prided himself on it too. Our company had met with him a couple times in the past, so I contacted to see if he was willing to meet again and he was, so we did, for 3.5 hours. He was an excellent source for me. He spoke about some of the things to see in Tegucigalpa and before he rushed off to another meeting that day, he said - I'll take you out on Friday to Villa de los Angeles. I'll tell my secretary not to plan any appointments on Friday, and I was psyched about it, then he rushed off. I didn't hear from him. Friday morning he called me and said, so today at four? And I said... yes!!!! There is nothing like having a local show you around.
So he picked me up, Friday at 4. He took me to his house so he could change after working; he had a bright, beautiful cockatoo living in his front yard which is normal to have in Central America. He lived in a cute little house in the prestigious area of Tegucigalpa, and family pictures were everywhere - he lived with the fam. It is normal for men and women both to live with Mom and Pop up until you get married; even if this doesn't happen until well into your thirties. So we headed out. He talked to me about his point of view on life, the women in his past, Honduran girls and what they were like, his crazy times and relationships in Miami. We drove up high into the mountains, passed some donkeys on the way, and stopped by the area where he wanted to build his Mom a house, and continued through the small towns up into Villa de los Angeles, a beautiful and very quaint semi-tourist town high in the mountains. We walked into some of the stores and he found a tapestry that caught his eye and bought it for me! It cost about 50 USD. Then we went to dinner at a typical Honduran restaurant with a beautiful view. He grabbed his computer from the car and spent the time while we waited for food burning for me cds of some of his favorite music - most of it in spanish. What a wonderful time I was having! I felt as though I was on a romantic date with a foreigner - or, maybe I was on a romantic date with a foreigner. After dinner - and of course he paid - we headed back into town. On the way, he threw in one of the CD's he had made for me; and to my surprise put on a song that he was singing - he was in a band and to boot, his voice was just incredible. I was feeling really good about the whole night. From there we headed to a bar downtown which Fausto claimed had some of the best drinks he had ever had. The owner of the bar was all-natural; dreadlocks down to his feet, smelled like BO, only uses natural products for everything. He was quite original and his drinks were very exotic, and all very creamy. We grabbed a drink at another bar after that before heading back. He dropped me off and I surprised myself by saying well if you're not doing anything in a couple days let me know and we'll go out again!
I got home and was just so absolutely psyched about my night. I had such a great time.
So, a couple days later, he called and asked if I wanted to go out again. We were going to try to find sushi, but after a fruitless effort to find certain restaurants that would hopefully be open, we settled with a small fast-foody type of place that served a typical Honduran dish called Baleadas. It was incredible - I thought it would taste no better than a burrito from Anna's Taqueria, but it was really good. A plain tortilla with beans spread on it, white cheese, avocado, plantains (a veg/fruit that is a mixture between a banana and a potato), and a couple very small sausages in the middle. A strange compilation of ingredients, but it was so fresh and the tastes complimented each other so well.
I asked Fausto the meaning of "buen provecho". During breakfast someone had said this to me, but I had no idea what it meant and really I didn't know how to respond to this. "Gracias, y Ud.!" I responded clearly having no idea what this meant. The waitress heard me in my confusion and tried to explain in very limited english - this means, the food is good for you. I wasn't sure if her translation was accurate, especially since her english was limited, so I asked Fausto. He told me that it means "enjoy your meal" but is usually used almost as a pick-up line; sometimes it is used as an obvious way to work your way into another conversation. I made note of this for future reference.
So after dinner we just sat and talked, or rather; I listened, listened, listened listened. This guy would not stop talking about himself, how wonderful he is, how great his family is, blah blah blah blah blah. I never noticed it the first night. He was sooooo full of himself. Maybe I had too many drinks to realize the first night? Maybe he was just lonely and insecure? I couldn't tell. After the first couple hours of not being able to get a word in edgewise, I was starting to fall asleep. I just wanted to goooooo tooooooo bedddddd. But I was having the hardest time trying to get away. We were sitting in the parking lot of my hotel, it seemed like it should be such an easy thing to do, to get out of the car, walk 15 feet into the front door and up to my room... Finally an hour later I found an appropriate time to get away. He looked at me longingly and I was afraid during that awkward period of time to leave and actually being out of the car that he was going to try to kiss me. But, I got away. I was really disappointed, this great guy I met was no longer as intriguing and attractive as I found him to be the other night. A part of me wished we never went out the second time.
But, I will never forget that great first night that we had. Might go down in the books as one of the best "dates" ever!
So he picked me up, Friday at 4. He took me to his house so he could change after working; he had a bright, beautiful cockatoo living in his front yard which is normal to have in Central America. He lived in a cute little house in the prestigious area of Tegucigalpa, and family pictures were everywhere - he lived with the fam. It is normal for men and women both to live with Mom and Pop up until you get married; even if this doesn't happen until well into your thirties. So we headed out. He talked to me about his point of view on life, the women in his past, Honduran girls and what they were like, his crazy times and relationships in Miami. We drove up high into the mountains, passed some donkeys on the way, and stopped by the area where he wanted to build his Mom a house, and continued through the small towns up into Villa de los Angeles, a beautiful and very quaint semi-tourist town high in the mountains. We walked into some of the stores and he found a tapestry that caught his eye and bought it for me! It cost about 50 USD. Then we went to dinner at a typical Honduran restaurant with a beautiful view. He grabbed his computer from the car and spent the time while we waited for food burning for me cds of some of his favorite music - most of it in spanish. What a wonderful time I was having! I felt as though I was on a romantic date with a foreigner - or, maybe I was on a romantic date with a foreigner. After dinner - and of course he paid - we headed back into town. On the way, he threw in one of the CD's he had made for me; and to my surprise put on a song that he was singing - he was in a band and to boot, his voice was just incredible. I was feeling really good about the whole night. From there we headed to a bar downtown which Fausto claimed had some of the best drinks he had ever had. The owner of the bar was all-natural; dreadlocks down to his feet, smelled like BO, only uses natural products for everything. He was quite original and his drinks were very exotic, and all very creamy. We grabbed a drink at another bar after that before heading back. He dropped me off and I surprised myself by saying well if you're not doing anything in a couple days let me know and we'll go out again!
I got home and was just so absolutely psyched about my night. I had such a great time.
So, a couple days later, he called and asked if I wanted to go out again. We were going to try to find sushi, but after a fruitless effort to find certain restaurants that would hopefully be open, we settled with a small fast-foody type of place that served a typical Honduran dish called Baleadas. It was incredible - I thought it would taste no better than a burrito from Anna's Taqueria, but it was really good. A plain tortilla with beans spread on it, white cheese, avocado, plantains (a veg/fruit that is a mixture between a banana and a potato), and a couple very small sausages in the middle. A strange compilation of ingredients, but it was so fresh and the tastes complimented each other so well.
I asked Fausto the meaning of "buen provecho". During breakfast someone had said this to me, but I had no idea what it meant and really I didn't know how to respond to this. "Gracias, y Ud.!" I responded clearly having no idea what this meant. The waitress heard me in my confusion and tried to explain in very limited english - this means, the food is good for you. I wasn't sure if her translation was accurate, especially since her english was limited, so I asked Fausto. He told me that it means "enjoy your meal" but is usually used almost as a pick-up line; sometimes it is used as an obvious way to work your way into another conversation. I made note of this for future reference.
So after dinner we just sat and talked, or rather; I listened, listened, listened listened. This guy would not stop talking about himself, how wonderful he is, how great his family is, blah blah blah blah blah. I never noticed it the first night. He was sooooo full of himself. Maybe I had too many drinks to realize the first night? Maybe he was just lonely and insecure? I couldn't tell. After the first couple hours of not being able to get a word in edgewise, I was starting to fall asleep. I just wanted to goooooo tooooooo bedddddd. But I was having the hardest time trying to get away. We were sitting in the parking lot of my hotel, it seemed like it should be such an easy thing to do, to get out of the car, walk 15 feet into the front door and up to my room... Finally an hour later I found an appropriate time to get away. He looked at me longingly and I was afraid during that awkward period of time to leave and actually being out of the car that he was going to try to kiss me. But, I got away. I was really disappointed, this great guy I met was no longer as intriguing and attractive as I found him to be the other night. A part of me wished we never went out the second time.
But, I will never forget that great first night that we had. Might go down in the books as one of the best "dates" ever!
The great people you meet
I met three really memorable people when in Tegucigalpa.
Two, I will group together because their purpose was similar. Magi and Dimas. Magi worked at the business center in the Intercontinental. She always greeted me with a "hello Ms. Basler how are you today?" which I didn't like. She was younger than me but much too cool to be addressing me so properly. So when I approached her and told her I was wondering if she could help me with a translator, she said unfortunately they don't do that service through the hotel. But before I even offered to pay her money, she said that she would be willing to come with me after work. So, she did - for all three real estate appointments. She talked about life in Honduras, I told her about living in Boston and growing up in NH. She was a university student - young, but obviously doing really well having a full-time job in the Intercontinental in the business center, and she was bi-lingual in a part of the world where very few people can also speak english. I also spent almost 3 full days with her making phone calls - well having her make the phone calls for me. I loved listening to her speak spanish. I grew a new admiration for the language and how beautiful it sounds. It made me proud to be able to speak it - (well, some of it...) I thought it was funny when she was talking about condominiums; she said condoms instead. I should have corrected her but I never did. Also, Magi and I both learned a little bit about marriage in each others' cultures. In Latin culture, when you marry, you add your husbands name at the end of your own. Well, it would read like... Lauren Basler of "futurehusband". She never new that it American culture, most of the time the women drop their last names.
My cab driver Dimas was also pretty amazing. I used his services one day a day or so after arriving in Tegucigalpa, and I liked him not only because he was nice, but also because he spoke spanish very clearly so I could understand him very well. Anytime I went into a store, like my friend in Luanda, he would come in to the store with me. I went into a grocery store and started writing down prices one day, and almost immediately a guard came up to me to say it's prohibited. So my driver automatically chimed in with... "she is getting married here and she is from the US but her husband is from here and she needs to know how much the wedding will cost". Luckily, the guy couldn't read english in which case he couldn't tell that toilet paper, laundry detergent and RAID were on my list of needed things for the wedding. Anyways, he brought me to the manager who crossed out all the prices I had already gotten and finally gave my list back to me after saying I couldn't write down the prices.
Well, what was I going to do. We ended up in another chain of the same store where I gave Dimas a portion of the list and I took a portion of the list, and we worked together to get it done. I was psyched.
A couple days before I was leaving Tegucigalpa I stopped in to Magi's office after having a tough time at the grocery store. There are a couple things I really don't like about my job. One, is trying to get real estate agents to talk with you even though you know they probably won't get anything out of our meeting. The second is needing to spend hours in a grocery store copying prices after they tell you that you are not allowed to do so. And, I was just out doing just this. After I told her my problems and that I thought people were growing suspicious, she said that she would help me. I was thrilled. So, we called Dimas and the three of us were off to the next grocery store. We each took a portion and worked together to get it all done in just a couple hours, and we didn't get caught! After finishing the grocery store, I was finished my work in Tegucigalpa with a little help from my friends. A powerful appreciative feeling overcame me and I felt so lucky to have met such great people. "My best friends in Honduras" I called them.
Two, I will group together because their purpose was similar. Magi and Dimas. Magi worked at the business center in the Intercontinental. She always greeted me with a "hello Ms. Basler how are you today?" which I didn't like. She was younger than me but much too cool to be addressing me so properly. So when I approached her and told her I was wondering if she could help me with a translator, she said unfortunately they don't do that service through the hotel. But before I even offered to pay her money, she said that she would be willing to come with me after work. So, she did - for all three real estate appointments. She talked about life in Honduras, I told her about living in Boston and growing up in NH. She was a university student - young, but obviously doing really well having a full-time job in the Intercontinental in the business center, and she was bi-lingual in a part of the world where very few people can also speak english. I also spent almost 3 full days with her making phone calls - well having her make the phone calls for me. I loved listening to her speak spanish. I grew a new admiration for the language and how beautiful it sounds. It made me proud to be able to speak it - (well, some of it...) I thought it was funny when she was talking about condominiums; she said condoms instead. I should have corrected her but I never did. Also, Magi and I both learned a little bit about marriage in each others' cultures. In Latin culture, when you marry, you add your husbands name at the end of your own. Well, it would read like... Lauren Basler of "futurehusband". She never new that it American culture, most of the time the women drop their last names.
My cab driver Dimas was also pretty amazing. I used his services one day a day or so after arriving in Tegucigalpa, and I liked him not only because he was nice, but also because he spoke spanish very clearly so I could understand him very well. Anytime I went into a store, like my friend in Luanda, he would come in to the store with me. I went into a grocery store and started writing down prices one day, and almost immediately a guard came up to me to say it's prohibited. So my driver automatically chimed in with... "she is getting married here and she is from the US but her husband is from here and she needs to know how much the wedding will cost". Luckily, the guy couldn't read english in which case he couldn't tell that toilet paper, laundry detergent and RAID were on my list of needed things for the wedding. Anyways, he brought me to the manager who crossed out all the prices I had already gotten and finally gave my list back to me after saying I couldn't write down the prices.
Well, what was I going to do. We ended up in another chain of the same store where I gave Dimas a portion of the list and I took a portion of the list, and we worked together to get it done. I was psyched.
A couple days before I was leaving Tegucigalpa I stopped in to Magi's office after having a tough time at the grocery store. There are a couple things I really don't like about my job. One, is trying to get real estate agents to talk with you even though you know they probably won't get anything out of our meeting. The second is needing to spend hours in a grocery store copying prices after they tell you that you are not allowed to do so. And, I was just out doing just this. After I told her my problems and that I thought people were growing suspicious, she said that she would help me. I was thrilled. So, we called Dimas and the three of us were off to the next grocery store. We each took a portion and worked together to get it all done in just a couple hours, and we didn't get caught! After finishing the grocery store, I was finished my work in Tegucigalpa with a little help from my friends. A powerful appreciative feeling overcame me and I felt so lucky to have met such great people. "My best friends in Honduras" I called them.
The strange people you meet
When in Tegucigalpa, I met a lot of really nice people - that was one of my favorite parts about Latin America in general. But importantly, I learned that if I ever want to get work done, the worst thing I can do is hang out alone anywhere in public. I don't think I've been successful once at getting anything done around a slew of people who are just itching to know why this young girl is hanging out alone at the bar, in the lobby, by the pool - wherever I happen to be. One night I was trying to finish up copying some prices into my work book when a Mexican guy started talking to me. He was sorta like an expat in Mexico, he had been here for a year and my impression was that he didn't have any friends. But, he mentioned how lucky he was at least to have a job. We talked and talked, in english (he wanted to practice) and he seemed just heartbroken when I said I should go back to the hotel. "Well, maybe we can get a drink at your hotel?" He said. But, I had to work and go to bed. No time. "Well I can drive you around this weekend to stores, or we could go out to this restaurant that I think you would like, I have a membership at Costco and we can go there and I can help you...." This guy BEGGED to help me out. Needless to say, after a few e-mails and phone calls I got creeped out and thought I would make up excuses instead. I didn't want this guy driving me around.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
The Ambassador's digits
The Intercontinental Hotel was lovely - the nicest I had been in so far. A resort-like pool was right outside surrounded by an outdoor restaurant which served sushi. It also had another restaurant that served dinner for breakfast (my fav.) and fresh-squeezed orange juice every morning - (well, amongst other juices but this was my favorite!) and also had employees who smiled and said "have a nice day Mrs. Basler" - (which eventually was changed to Ms. Basler) as I would leave the restaurant every morning. I felt important! The best part was knowing that they were all wondering what a young lady like me would be doing alone in plain clothes in such a nice hotel. The only people I met in the restaurant were governmental officials of sorts. I met men from the US treasury, I met a former employee of the Guatemala embassy, but the best encounter was a couple guys who sat directly to my left, and began talking to me. One only spoke spanish, but the other spoke perfect english. The one who spoke spanish was an older man, who I came to find out was the ambassador for the Dominican Republic. So, I turn to leave after a conversation in half spanish/half english and the ambassador offers me his cell phone number and his office number just in case I need anything. (I think he liked my dress...? ) Then it comes up that his friend (other guy at the table) lives in San Pedro Sula, where I was going next so he gives me his phone number too. I turned around and walked back up to my hotel room as I thought, really? I got an ambassador's digits? That's kinda cool.
Airport nightmares
"We'll be flying straight in to the airport which will cut off some travel time. So please fasten your seatbelts as we have started our decent to the airport."
Phew, I thought. I did my research before taking this flight, wondering what all these airports are like because of my slight fear of flying (kinda a problem when you need to do it for a living....)and I encountered that Tegucigalpa (isn't it just fun to sound out?) is one of the most dangerous to land in, in the world. Really, I wasn't thinking too much at that point - I had left Boston very early in the morning Sunday and hadn't gotten a wink of sleep before changing from Valentine's day going-out clothes into appropriate airport-lounging attire in order to be at the airport at 3:30 am to prepare for my international flight.
Ugh. But phew. From his words of assurance - now I could relax. As we neared closer to the ground, I started feeling the plane tip from side to side as I looked out the window to see mountains eye-level at a close distance. Was the pilot tricking us? We weren't flying straight! I thought we were done with the worst of it, and was just about to land when all of a sudden the plane tipped entirely to one side (or so it seemed) and looking out the window on the left there were cars and highways and houses directly below us; I swore the wing was going to hit, and I nearly had a heart-attack and was clearly holding my breath. Suddenly we evened back out, and just a few seconds later we landed on the ground. The guy sitting next to me looked at me, smiled, and breathed out with me... and then I realized how nervous I must have just looked. The plane erupted with clapping. But most importantly, I lived to say I survived one of the most dangerous airports to land in, in the world :)
Phew, I thought. I did my research before taking this flight, wondering what all these airports are like because of my slight fear of flying (kinda a problem when you need to do it for a living....)and I encountered that Tegucigalpa (isn't it just fun to sound out?) is one of the most dangerous to land in, in the world. Really, I wasn't thinking too much at that point - I had left Boston very early in the morning Sunday and hadn't gotten a wink of sleep before changing from Valentine's day going-out clothes into appropriate airport-lounging attire in order to be at the airport at 3:30 am to prepare for my international flight.
Ugh. But phew. From his words of assurance - now I could relax. As we neared closer to the ground, I started feeling the plane tip from side to side as I looked out the window to see mountains eye-level at a close distance. Was the pilot tricking us? We weren't flying straight! I thought we were done with the worst of it, and was just about to land when all of a sudden the plane tipped entirely to one side (or so it seemed) and looking out the window on the left there were cars and highways and houses directly below us; I swore the wing was going to hit, and I nearly had a heart-attack and was clearly holding my breath. Suddenly we evened back out, and just a few seconds later we landed on the ground. The guy sitting next to me looked at me, smiled, and breathed out with me... and then I realized how nervous I must have just looked. The plane erupted with clapping. But most importantly, I lived to say I survived one of the most dangerous airports to land in, in the world :)
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