By the hair of my chinny chin chin

Things almost ended before they ever began. Every averted disaster was my fault, save the most devistating one. To begin with, I waited at the wrong gate for seven grueling hours. Let me explain to you how stupid I am: After landing into LAX, I inspected the departure listings and found but one flight for Mexico City. It’s departure time was the same as the departure time of my actual flight. So after waiting for longer than I’d wish upon any other poor soul, the women checking tickets advised me that my flight was at some other section of the airport. Getting there required leaving the terminal, going outside, catching a bus, checking in all over again, and finally boarding. The gate was at the furthest end of this section of the airport. I ran the entire way; even fell on my ass down a flight of stairs. As I borded the flight, they closed the door right behind me. Just barely made it. A nice elderly man on the plane kept trying to talk to me, but I didn’t understand him. I just nodded and grinned like a dumb gringo. He might have been asking about why I was covered in sweat and panting. The next leg of the journey involved going through customs and then catching my connecting flight to SLP. It departed in one hour. I did my best to navigate myself to the gate number printed on my ticket. I swear to vishnu that there was no such gate number. I think it was 630A, but the highest gate number in the whole of Mexico City International Airport was 80. So I asked somebody: “Donde esta ese puerto?” She directed me to terminal B. Terminal B ranged from gates 9 to 16 or something. I looked at the signage of every gate and found one that said San Luis Potosi. It had a different flight number however. I showed the lady my ticket, asked if I was in the right place, and I think she said yes. No departing flight was ever listed on the departures board. Crazy crazy crazy. Once landing in SLP, a one horse airport, the 12 or so passangers proceded to baggage claim. About 4 articles were unloaded from the plane. 3 of us sort of stared at eachother. They had lost our luggage. Try trying to figure this out with a Mexicana – the airline – customer service lady who doesn’t speak a lick of English. Well, I got it figured out and so did they. The folks here at English Unlimited helped me to follow up with my baggage claim and are now telling me that Air Mexicana is going to be dropping off my stuff today between 6 or 7. We’ll see. The latest disaster development: I have no hot water. Checked the water heater. It’s out. Tried to light it. Nothing. Tried the stove. Nothing. No Gas. The man in charge is aware of this, but who knows when it will be turned on. If it were 90F out then I’d have few qualms with bathing in ice cold water, but not when it’s 55F. Oh, and for those of you who knew about my documentation problem – it’s really not a problem. Mexico, go figure. .. all this will probably be edited later. I’m writing this after having been awake for, lets see, 33 hours with a couple one hour power naps thrown in there.