So, I managed to get a flight home from Seattle and made it to New York 12 hours before the flight to Costa Rica. I felt a little triumphant because I spent hours on the phone and internet in my friend Erica’s living room in Seattle trying to figure out just how the hell I was going to get home and still make this other flight.
Once back in Brooklyn I paid my taxes (it was the 16th) and did a bunch of other life-maintenance crap like pay bills and finalize work for May…and then, with no sleep, A’yen and I were off to the airport at 3am. I couldn’t believe we were actually going to make it…and then… “I’m sorry Miss, but your passport has expired.” My jaw dropped. A’yen was on the verge of tears. And there was no way they were going to let her on the plane. There was nothing we could do, so I went on ahead and A’yen proceeded to go through a minor hell to get her passport renewed. She’s Canadian. She went to the consulate. No dice. She called her mom who then drove with her to Canada where she had to jump through a million hoops to get a passport. In Canada you’re required to have a guarantor- a professional (there’s a list that includes doctors, dentists, lawyers, and teachers) who’s known you for at least two years and will vouch for your existence. Even if you’re renewing a passport you need this guarantor. Seems crazy. And seems designed to make it quite difficult for people who don’t have lots of white collar ‘professionals’ in their lives to get a passport. Oh Canada.
Anyway, eventually A’yen made it and I was super happy to see her get off the plane with a big exhausted smile on her face. We were housesitting for my friends, taking care of their dogs Mousey and Dinah (above), watering their garden (also above), cooking and reading. The time we spent there would fall into the category of vacation. Not like I needed a vacation from anything. It was nice. And strange. Highlights include the beach; hammocks; more beach; going surfing for the first time since I was 14 (and almost rubbing my nipples off); lots of mangos; a ridiculous amount real estate development and the accompanying well-tanned reptilian gringo real estate venture capitalists.
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