(re-) Learning to trust

If today doesn't inspire me to resurrect this blog and write again, I don't know what will. What a day! It started out in Austin, TX at 4:30 in the morning. The best sister in the world and her wonderful boyfriend drove me to the airport, although they could have easily made me walk for getting such an early flight!
What could have been 3-hour direct flight to Guatemala City became a full-day journey, bouncing me through Memphis and Miami before spitting me out in Guatemala City. Ah, the lengths I would go to just to save a hundred bucks...
On the last stretch of the journey, there was a movie about a female author who was writing about this adventure hero, Alex Rover, a man who never seemed to be afraid to try new things. Alex was always diving into risk and danger head first, worrying about how to wiggle out of the mess he'd created later. The ironic thing was that the author herself, Alexandra, was freaked out to leave her own apartment. She was terrified of the world...until she gets a plea for help from a little girl who's stranded on an island (a high-tech, fancy-schmancy island with wi-fi access). Although petrified, Alexandra sets out to find the island and help the girl. Along the way, she learnes to trust, even when things aren't going her way. She finds she's actually capable of living a life of adventure, not just writing about it.
One of the reasons I love to travel is that, along the way, I remember to trust. Traveling itself forces me to trust, actually, whether I want to or not. There are just too many variables that are out of my control and I just have to trust that, whatever happens, it'll be alright in the end.
So, I'm in Guatemala City...I've made it through declarations and passport control and I'm waiting for my one little checked-in bag to appear on the carousel. This is the same bag that I got for free, by applying for a delta credit card. All shapes, colors, and sizes of bags show up, get claimed by their owners, and happily move on to their next destination. After more than half an hour, my bag is nowhere to be seen, as are the people I shared the flight with-gone. I feel like a third grader whose nanny forgot to pick her up from school, all alone, whimpering softly. A soothing voice appears in my head..."just trust." It's been saying that for the last half hour, and the five hours before that. What are my options? I always have options-I could break down and pout and whine, or I can trust. I go and ask the airport people if anyone has seen my little, black bag. Nope, they haven't , but I should talk to that lady over there.
"Excuse me, I'm looking for a little black bag...come from Miami." me
"Did you have connections within the states?" her
"Yes, Austin, Memphis, Miami, Guatemala." me
"Ah, yes, they didn't transfer your bag-it's still in Miami. It will come tomorrow, but we'll give you $55 for emergency purposes." her
Well, at least I know where my bag is now. Whoa, $55, that's probably worth more than the content of my bag! Hey, you can leave my bags wherever you'd like, anytime. I didn't say that.
She introduced me to Isaac, who happened to be a Mormon. I told him I live in Utah-we got to talking about the temple and his missionary friends who are from Utah. He gave me a little emergency bag with a t-shirt, toothbrush & paste, deodorant (it's fair to say that I was pretty stinky at this point) and any toiletries I may need. What service! Thank you, TACA airlines...I'm impressed.
A while later, I met my couchsurfing host, Harold. He was born in Guatemala, but lived most of his life in Princeton, one of my favorite towns ever...we shared happy memories of Princeton while driving through Guatemala city. Harold has started his own home-based English-teaching business for executives in the city...classrooms double up as bedrooms for couch surfers. I met one of his students, Ricardo, a man who works for the second largest coffee company in Guatemala. He reports directly to the big boss, the CEO, who happens to be Japanese. Ricardo was having a conversation with Bill and Betty-the retired couple from Minnesota who's also couchsurfing with Harold. They have a friend whose daughter's in Peace Corps, Bulgaria right now, in a little town called Lom. Lom happens to be the place my grandpa was born. Small world. I trust.