Saturday, April 9, 2011
Up sick all night last night, but at least I had my mother there. One tearful goodbye in the JW Marriott parking lot, six hours in the bus to the airport, four more waiting in San Jose, one quiet flight, one flight with a group of school children and some Haitian refugees, one peaceful ride from the airport to this room. Two cans of Coca Cola, one-half a mini bagel, one handful of raisins. I am alive. I am in Quito now.