round trip

I took this photo while flying over Mexico City.

I don't feel like uploading all my pictures tonight, but I did want my mother to know I have arrived back home to Mexico in one piece. I spent the last five days in hot-as-all-get-out-Houston, but the moments spent with friends and family were sublime, memorable and hilarious. I held a brand new baby, witnessed a bizarre marriage proposal, ate thai food - twice, watched two seconds of fireworks and miraculously packed everything I had bought while in the States into a suitcase that weighed 48 pounds upon check-in. (Miraculous, I tell you). Bruce and the kids survived the weekend without me, and as there were no visible cuts, bruises or missing appendages when I returned home, I'd say it was successful.

I boarded a Continental Express jet headed for Houston Thursday morning. Small airplanes make me marginally nervous and motion sick, but the lady across the aisle from me in 10C suffered from an apparently much more severe case. Flustered, breathy, and reeking of cigarette smoke, she tugged at her green scarf and bounced up and down in her seat. I wanted to lean over and tell her to get a grip. Though when she began crossing herself in the Catholic gesture multiple times in rapid and earnest succession as the plane began backing away from the gate, I silently wondered if perhaps I should offer a little prayer of my own.

On my flight home this afternoon, I was surrounded by an enthusiastic Baptist mission trip group from Kansas on their way to do good at a Mexico City orphanage. Apparently, stepping onto an airplane was a first-time experience for several. I thought then that perhaps a prayer would be an exceptionally wise and circumspect thing to do, considering the sheer irony of the tragedy if our plane of good and inexperienced people did happen to go down or be taken over by terrorist hijackers. I find that most tragedies are heavy laden with irony.

The best part of my flight today, however, was sitting next to a plump, blue-eyed girl named Jennilee. She sported perfect posture and cute little bangs that were swept off to one side. Her blonde hair was highlighted and curled and I couldn't help thinking how she would stick out like a sore, very American thumb in Mexico. She wore a jean skirt and white cardigan over a frilly camisole and carried a large, mustard yellow purse. When the plane took off, she carefully pulled out her Bible, a large journal with a pink and brown swirly pattern on the outside cover, and the book The Secret. When she wrote in her journal, I sneaked a peek (couldn't help myself) and read, "I am so thankful to be going to Mexico City to help these little children! God is good!"

I love traveling sans kids. Look at what I would have missed out on if I'd been too busy chasing M down the plane aisle.