Hi everyone! This post comes a bit late but I thought it was worth writing about. It's about the time I planned what I thought would be the best holiday EVER. And then I missed my flight. It gets worse... I'll get into it in a second. But looking back at what I imagined lay ahead of me, and what actually happened... well, it's a bit of a "Bridget Jones" kinda moment.
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| That moment you miss your flight. Panic. Shock. Tingly feeling in your fingers. And you desperately wish it were a joke. [A lot of elegant cursing ensued] |
After my first whimsical month in Mexico full of lovely new experiences and surprises, with my feelings sometimes at war with one another - fascination and wanderlust on the one hand, and missing home on the other - I had planned a perfect Christmas holiday: meeting up with my family (parents, sisters, gran, brother-in-law) and my boyfriend in Chicago for our first white snowy Christmas, followed by a two-week stint on the Riviera Maya with said boyfriend. What could be better than some down time with the fam and boyfriend when you're missing home, followed by a dream beach holiday? #AMIRITE?
Here I am at the airport, having arrived hours ahead in anticipation, dreaming about romantic moments in the snow with the boyfriend, cooking with the gran, a beautiful white Christmas with the fam, followed by mojitos, tanning and scuba diving on the east coast of Mexico. Beautiful charming glamorous images running through my mind. You know, the Bridget-Jones-kinda-daydreaming-before-disaster-strikes.
"Can I please see your immigration card?"
What? Oh right, I'm boarding and the flight attendant is asking to see my immigration card. I hand over my passport, boarding card - and quickly add that I have an ESTA visa for the US. This is what he is talking about, I assume. Hah! No. No, no, no. I was supposed to hang on to that wee immigration card they handed me when ENTERING Mexico. Lesson learnt: Read the bloody fine print.
The flight attendant explains to me that I can't board without this card. The first signs of panic start creeping in. He explains that I have to go back to immigration to get the card. The immigration office sits on the other side of the security checks. And at this time of night, the only bank where I can pay for a new immigration card sits in another terminal, which I can only access by train. The flight is leaving in 20 mins - 30 at best. Will they wait for me? :) hehe... Oh boy. I start running, fumbling for documents, breathlessly asking other passengers if I can cut in front of them cus MY FLIGHT IS GOING TO LEAVE WITHOUT ME.
And then the realisation that there just isn't enough time. It seems trivial now, but in that moment it meant everything to me. Tears, anger, frustration, cursing, sobbing while running from one office to the next.
And then I remember. Due to some issue with my bank, I hadn't been able to access my plastic from Mexico in the past few days. Which means I could only rely on the cash I had on me: USD 75.00. How can I buy a new ticket, get my butt to Chicago, with $75? Here I am talking to the managers at AeroMexico, at immigration, at the bank, and sometimes I can't get the words out cus I am so choked up. They look at me patiently with that expression - you know: placid, indifferent, cool-as-cucumber feigned sympathy... while I'm simultaneously mortified that I can only get a few words out amid sobs and gulps, while totally floored by this whole experience. I'm 27 and crying on the phone with my older sister like a 5 year old. Hehehehehhe. Pure panic. Pure madness. Strangers stopping to ask if they can help, others that are going through the same process are looking at me sympathetically - clearly they're not crying cus they were asked for this same card at check-in, not at boarding (like me), so they had a good hour and a half to sort it all out. Otherwise they would have been crying too. Clearly.
I viber my sister, she hears the desperation in my voice, the panic - she starts crying too.
Two idiots crying. Hahaha.
At the same time, our parents message us that gran won't be able to make it to Chicago because she is ill. My parents, or at the very least my dad, will also cancel his trip to stay with her. In a matter of hours my carefully planned holiday was falling apart. And I am stuck in Mexico City airport, with $75 in my pocket, sobbing uncontrollably.
My brother-in-law is watching these crazy Varjabedians in amazement. From Ethiopia to Mexico, to his new wife crying on the phone with me. What the hell is going on?
But in the end things worked out... Brother-in-law checks online for the next flight out for me, then he and my sister email me a new ticket. 5 hours later I am on another flight to O'Hare. Oh, it only cost me a small fortune and my left kidney. My dad only delayed his trip by a few days because my other aunts and uncles in Ethiopia were there to stay with my gran... My gran couldn't make it but she is much better now... and it all came together quiet nicely in the end... But boy what a day THAT was. So... just to say... amid the wonder and excitement of travelling and discovering new places, this wonderful opportunity we get with this dream year... we have a lot to cope with too. Some days can just be disastrous. But hey, now it's a story - one that I can *finally* laugh at. (I still die a little on the inside telling it).
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| Cheesy Christmas Collage <3 All's well that ends well... Awww #HallmarkMoment |
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