The second week of April was TOBB's Spring break- and the vacation I'd been anticipating since February. I was going to visit Ellie for her birthday on Caye Caulker, the tiny island off of Belize where she is volunteering for a high-school of at-risk youth. We were meeting up in Cancun, Mexico first, to spend her birthday weekend on the island of Cozumel. The quintessential travelers, we insisted on spending our time together doing something that was new for the both of us.
On Wednesday, April 14, I left Ankara at midnight and traveled with Jamar, Julia, and Kenzie to Ataturk Airport in Istanbul (they were going to Cairo. Their trip originally was supposed to begin in Cairo and head up the Sinai to Jerusalem, but fighting on the peninsula forced them to reorganize their entire trip- the day before their departure!). At the Airport we lost each other amidst the hour-long passport/ticket check-in lines.
At the Duty-Free, I tried to buy some presents for Ellie- unfortunately, because my final destination was Mexico City, I couldn't buy the goods. So, I went back into the store, got more of the duty-free items, and went to a different ticket counter. When the clerk asked where I was going, I told her Paris, and walked out of the Duty-Free with my last-minute presents in tow.
The first flight to Paris went off without a hitch; however, I did experience severe language confusion at Charles de Gaulle. My brain has been operating in foreign-language mode for the past several months; every time I want to speak Turkish, I have to translate it out of French and then into Turkish (apparently this is a real phenomenon: Sakine, the teacher in my office with a linguistics degree, has done research showing that in people learning a third language, they often use their second language as a template. Therefore, even though Turkish isn't similar to French that part of my brain still is activated whenever I hear Turkish). Once I was in France, my brain suddenly became language-confused as both foreign languages tried to get out, like two people pushing through a doorway; the result was that I couldn't say anything at all to the customs agents! I eventually blurted something out in French (once I made it to Mexico, my language confusion went away).
I was now poised for the most difficult leg of my journey- the 11 hour flight from Paris to Mexico City. This was at 1:30 pm Thursday, April 15. We boarded the plane and then waited an hour for a passenger to arrive (his connector was late). Then, once he was on, the pilot announced that, "Due to a volcanic eruption in Iceland, takeoff would be delayed an hour and 40 minutes." This was a very confusing announcement, especially since 10 minutes later we taxied and took-off!
The flight went by reasonably quickly- I was very excited to see Ellie; as a result, I wasn't the least fatigued. I read all of Kafka's "Metamorphosis" (an easy task considering it's only 60 pages). We passed over Boston- I saw a plane landing at Logan, Northeastern's campus, and the inside of Fenway Park. That was a very, very, very strange experience. It was like going home; or more, it was like a dream of going home. It still doesn't feel real (mercifully, on the way back, clouds obscured the city).
After another transfer flight, I landed in Cancun. I hurried into the bathroom and changed my shirt, put on deodorant, washed my face, and brushed my teeth. I was the last person out of the baggage claim area. To my delight I immediately found Ellie, and we made our way into the city to the bus station (it was midnight in Mexico; 7am on Friday, April 16 Turkish time- a total of 30 hours travel). Since Ellie had needed to leave Belize at 6:30 am in order to reach Cancun, we were both very travel weary.
We had about 6 hours until our bus left for Playa del Carmen, the beach where we would take our ferry to Cozumel. So, we passed the time in an all-night restaurant, fighting fatigue over coffee and crosswords. We caught a bus at 5:30; by 7:00 am we had reached Playa, where we'd planned on splaying out on the beach and napping until noon- we figured we couldn't check in to our hostel before then. Unfortunately, it was raining quite relentlessly- so, we were forced to sleep in the bus station for two hours. This was the most tedious part of the trip, admittedly. The typically teeming Playa was a ghost town of rain and grey clouds. And even when we eventually did get our ferry, the waters were so rough that it was more like a rollercoaster. Many people were sea-sick during the 45 minute trip. At long last we reached our hostel, a house in which a very business-like Swiss woman and her German husband rent out the spacious guest bedrooms. Needless to say, Ellie and I passed out for the rest of the afternoon! When we awoke, we were ready to take on the island!
The first flight to Paris went off without a hitch; however, I did experience severe language confusion at Charles de Gaulle. My brain has been operating in foreign-language mode for the past several months; every time I want to speak Turkish, I have to translate it out of French and then into Turkish (apparently this is a real phenomenon: Sakine, the teacher in my office with a linguistics degree, has done research showing that in people learning a third language, they often use their second language as a template. Therefore, even though Turkish isn't similar to French that part of my brain still is activated whenever I hear Turkish). Once I was in France, my brain suddenly became language-confused as both foreign languages tried to get out, like two people pushing through a doorway; the result was that I couldn't say anything at all to the customs agents! I eventually blurted something out in French (once I made it to Mexico, my language confusion went away).
I was now poised for the most difficult leg of my journey- the 11 hour flight from Paris to Mexico City. This was at 1:30 pm Thursday, April 15. We boarded the plane and then waited an hour for a passenger to arrive (his connector was late). Then, once he was on, the pilot announced that, "Due to a volcanic eruption in Iceland, takeoff would be delayed an hour and 40 minutes." This was a very confusing announcement, especially since 10 minutes later we taxied and took-off!
The flight went by reasonably quickly- I was very excited to see Ellie; as a result, I wasn't the least fatigued. I read all of Kafka's "Metamorphosis" (an easy task considering it's only 60 pages). We passed over Boston- I saw a plane landing at Logan, Northeastern's campus, and the inside of Fenway Park. That was a very, very, very strange experience. It was like going home; or more, it was like a dream of going home. It still doesn't feel real (mercifully, on the way back, clouds obscured the city).
After another transfer flight, I landed in Cancun. I hurried into the bathroom and changed my shirt, put on deodorant, washed my face, and brushed my teeth. I was the last person out of the baggage claim area. To my delight I immediately found Ellie, and we made our way into the city to the bus station (it was midnight in Mexico; 7am on Friday, April 16 Turkish time- a total of 30 hours travel). Since Ellie had needed to leave Belize at 6:30 am in order to reach Cancun, we were both very travel weary.
We had about 6 hours until our bus left for Playa del Carmen, the beach where we would take our ferry to Cozumel. So, we passed the time in an all-night restaurant, fighting fatigue over coffee and crosswords. We caught a bus at 5:30; by 7:00 am we had reached Playa, where we'd planned on splaying out on the beach and napping until noon- we figured we couldn't check in to our hostel before then. Unfortunately, it was raining quite relentlessly- so, we were forced to sleep in the bus station for two hours. This was the most tedious part of the trip, admittedly. The typically teeming Playa was a ghost town of rain and grey clouds. And even when we eventually did get our ferry, the waters were so rough that it was more like a rollercoaster. Many people were sea-sick during the 45 minute trip. At long last we reached our hostel, a house in which a very business-like Swiss woman and her German husband rent out the spacious guest bedrooms. Needless to say, Ellie and I passed out for the rest of the afternoon! When we awoke, we were ready to take on the island!
THis is adorable. I miss you both so much
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