Back in Babylon, Bubba

Blogging from the Astoria Cafe inside the Simon Bolivar International Airport in Guayaquil, Ecuador. Today’s flight is the longest of the return voyage; had to be at the airport; three hours early and don’t get to Miami until 11:25 tonight, 10 hours later. This seems to be due to a short (15 minute) stopover in Quito, the Andean capital of Ecuador.

When they finally call the flight, streaks of Aemrican paranoia started reverberating over the trip even while we were thousands of
miles from American shores. After slip-sliding through the easiest green light trip through the
Lima airport – no lines at immigration, bags off the belt as soon as we got there, no check at all at customs, like a dream off the plane and out the door into teeming Lima in ten minutes -, we discovered why the simplke four hour flight from Guayaquil to Miami was going to
take 7 hours (plus the three hours beforehand now universally required of all international travelors). First the early check-in in GYE. Finally, we were allowed to board the plane, feeling queasy, happy to
see an empty row, stretch out. Back in our drinking days, we would have spent the time in the airport bar, then waiting for the on-board drink service to open up…..

Freezing in our red Red Sox World Champion shirt (why do we never rememberr that airports and airplanes are kept at refrigerator temperatures) until we sat down and could wrap up thin the blacket. We were feeling raw and mean –
a far cry from our normal friendly laidback resting state. In fact, this is the first time on the
whole trip, drunk opr sober, straight or stoned, come to think of it, that we have been in a bad
mood. Vacation over. Side out. Back to the First World, the grim cold expansionist reality of the American empire. On our way back to the Fatherland, we felt as if we were going through some kind of drug withdrawal. This is not a good sign, at least as far as finishing out
our career and our marriage in the merry old town of Boston. We may be heading for another
stretch in self-imposed exile, but its too soon to say. Lots of interesting projects simmering in
the states right now as well.

Luckily we will be able to stay wrapped up in the blanket, in our two seats, during the stopover in
Quito. We thought. But, no, capian’s voice comes over the speakers , “Ladies and Gentlemen, In order to comply
with new United States security regulations, we will be performing a thorough security
check of the cabin during our breif stopover in Quito. All pasasgers traveling to Miamai will
please exit the plane with all of their carry on luggage and proceed to the In Transit waiting areas.
What the fuck? Did they think that a dastardly band of terrorists were going to somehow smuggle a
bomb or boxcutter on board, or get one passeed to them somehow? While we were in the AIR between Guayaquil and Quito. We had just gone through the whole
security drill in Guayaquil, 25 minutes ago, and, to our experienced eye it was indistinuuishable
from the security we go through at that same airport when we flu directly to Miami.

So they took us off the plane, qnd had us make a quick 100 foot circle, in wht process of which we
were handed a wornd blue card labeled “Transit”, forced to empty our pockets and bags and go
through the exray and metal detector drill, have our passports examined, presnet our bording passes
and turn back in the transit cards for later use. We didn’t even get a chance to sit down in the
transit lounge before they were hustling us back through security and onto the plane. We started
looking around for someone to pick a fight with. there was a suspicious-looking nun sitting just
ot our left, and we were thinking about giving her a hard time about the Pope’s taste for Polish
sausage and corporeal punishment, when we were shown back to our seats.

Finally flew into Miami International at 11:30, and got picked up by Chips, International. More tomorrow, back online live from our home port of Watertown Ma.