I Can't Get Out of The Jungle!

Aside from making me cranky and tired and sore the malaria has made me stupid. I should not be in Leticia right now. I should be descending onto Bogotá like my bags are. But, no, I am in Leticia, and in Leticia with no clothes.

I went the the airport, arrived early, got my ticket, got it stamped by the police and I was ready to leave. I even made sure they put my spear on the plane carefully. So then I walked down the hall and sat down at a table where I saw a lot of people waiting around a window through which I could see my airplane. I started to read but really just spaced out for a while. I looked up, saw more and more people in the group waiting to board the plane, and looked back down and tried to read. Eventually I looked at my watch and realized it was about fifteen minutes before the flight was supposed to leave. I got up and walked through the tiny airport to where I had checked my bags. I asked a guard where I was supposed to board the plane. He said `oh, it's too late, you missed it'. I said, 'no!' and I pointed out the windown to the plane. I said 'I can see the plane. it's right there. He said, 'yeah, but you've missed it. they have already boarded.' I turned to the agent who checked my bags and she said 'what happened?' and I said I was waiting to board the plane. I thought I was supposed to bored over there.' she said, 'no, that's a restaurant'. i said, uselessly, 'then why are there so many people waiting in there'. She didn't know either, but she said it was too late. I said I really needed to get to bogotá, she said I would have to leave tomorrow. I had the same conversation four more times before everyone decided I was totally stupid.

They were right, it was clearly written out that the boarding area was in one place. If I had been in a mood for reading I would have seen that I was in a restaurant. I think two things happened. First, I assumed the airport was so damn small any group of people waiting must be the waiting area. Second, I was completely out of it. And now I was out of it and angry. I was furious in the way that people are furious when something goes wrong and it is no one's fault but their own. I asked them to call bogotá to make sure my bags would be safe and they did. Then, because I was mad, I asked if they thought it was a safe practice to load bags onto an airplane when the owner is not on the same airplane. I told them this was not done in other countries. They were sort of offended becuase no colombian likes to be suspected of not taking security precautions seriously. I apologized becuase I think I had really crossed the line. Then I left the airport.

I was sad because I knew I would have to spend another night with malaria in the same hotel in the same heat and this time I wouldn't have clean clothes. And when you are in this kind of mood it is the appropriate kind of defiance to refuse to take a cab and, in fact, to tell the cab driver who keeps offering you a ride to go away and that you can walk to the city. It was childish, yes, but I had nothing else to do but walk. While I was walking I looked at my watch to see that it was 12:30, the time my flight was going to leave. Then I heard a loud noise, I looked up and saw my flight leave with may bags that contain everything I have in colombia minus my passport, some cash, a book, and a camera. Everything else is in Bogotá, which is, i suppose, in another hemisphere.

I found a peruvian restaurant and I ate lunch and a nice peruvian woman talked to me and we have a nice conversation. I told her my story and she thought it was funny. I was relieved to discover that tomorrow is a holiday and that I don't have school. She told me she had a daughter who studies in Bogotá and she gave me her phone number and told me to call her and that she would cook me peruvian food.

As I left, I saw the same cab driver who took me to the airport. He laughed. He picked me up and took me the rest of the way to the city for free. He offered to take me to a bar but that was obviously a bad idea.

So now I have nothing to do. It is a sunday and I can't even buy a pair of shorts in this small, small town. I've elected to pass the time by drinking three litres of water (The largest bottle you can buy on a sunday in leticia) and reading about Malaria.