Mystery continues in Venezuela....
Perhaps it is - even though I am a continent away - my heart is still in the courtroom - always wondering....
I know I can follow the news as to the events - but the essence - my understanding of things is very personal. I know that no one can capture what I would be experiencing in that courtroom so I will have to settle for second-hand.
And I will because it is what I've chosen to do. I've decided to put the trial second and opportunities first. I am living a blended life now.
Bllended can be very exciting.
Everything went smoothly until about 20 minutes before landing in Caracas. I woke up with a start. I had fallen into an unexpected sleep.
"We are starting our decent. Please fill out your the forms before we land."
I looked up - two of them.
And then the turbulence! Caracas is known for its turbulence. Thank goodness they could not do a final check of the cabin because on my little table with hardly any light I was trying to fill out my faint - almost illegible forms. I managed -- wondering what would happen at customs. Were they clear? Were they accurate?
Customs didn't care! They just pushed us through -- everyone else had so much baggage we looked like a refugees. It was all disorganized and human.
Then the worst happened, I got lost -- though I didn't know it -- and found myself in a long corridor that ended in a tiny elevator with an endless line up of carts carrying towers of precariously balanced suitcases. I had only one. small compared to the others.
There was an escalator right beside. I hesitated for one moment -and then decided that the escalator would surely be my best bet - I was in a hurry to meet my contact.
But then - even though I didn't understand a word of Spanish, everyone was gesturing for me to stop. I wondered why -- and then they more or less all started to act like "Marshall" on Paw Patrol -- in other words - I would not be able to handle my suitcase and would bounce down the escalator they were telling me. I was quite indignant - but they were quite insistent. And we were all laughing.
One of the women motioned for me to go ahead of her -- so I reluctantly agreed. They were so happy! I was able to squish in beside her - so no one was out anything-- and they were so happy.
So I continued meandering down even more corridors enjoying the view of the mountains and found my way to departures.
My contact wasn't there - which was a little perturbing. I wandered until a baggage handler seeing my plight - my obvious anxiety - offered his phone to call my contact.
"I'm standing in front of the Budget Rental," I said.
"I'm standing in front of the Budget Rental - and you aren't there."
I could barely hear him so I went out doors. "I'm standing outside where you can grab a taxi"
"I'm standing outside - and I can't see you."
"Are you at departures or arrivals?"
This went on and on - as I tried to communicate with the kind gentleman who was handing me his cell - back and forth - as we both were trying to make sense of it as well.
He kept asking me - pointing to anyone passing... "Him?"
"No - much taller?"
"Well - sort of?"
And then the question from my contact - that powerful question that unraveled it all. "Are you at the domestic or international arrivals?"
I gave it to my new amigo.
"Domestic," he said.
"Domestic!?" The voice over the cell was suddenly very clear.
I'll be there in five minutes," said my contact.
And then it was easy!
There always has to be a "moment" in every travel venture -- well that is mine.
Apparently it is an unsolvable mystery how I got from the grand International Departure to the rather humble domestic side of the airport.
But then I am acquainted with living in a mystery.
"The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious." - Albert Einstein