So, after three months spent living out of a backpack, last Thursday I left Mexico.

My flight itinerary was as follows:

Tuxtla-Mexico City-Los Angeles

The following is a dated account of what transpired.

3:45 pm- Arrive at the airport.

5:45 pm– Airline announces flight has been delayed.

The agent tells me I will likely miss my connecting flight. He gives me two options:

1-Take my chances and hope the other flight has also been delayed.

2- Reroute my flight as follows: Tuxtla-Mexico City-Cancun-Atlanta-Buenos Aires-Bangkok-The Ganges-15th Century Europe-Wherever Dances With Wolves was filmed-Igloolik, Nunavut-Los Angeles

According to the Mayan calendar, I should be in L.A. shortly before the end of the world.

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Because I’m an Eskimo racist  (no offense), I choose the first one.

11:15 pm-Arrive in Mexico City.

I ask the man at the counter where the connecting gate is. He tells me to walk six miles down, then turn right. He doesn’t tell me that the flight left an hour earlier.

11:45 pm– Customer Service Agent re-books me for next flight, leaving at 10 am.

11:55 pm- Walk by a food kiosk.

Because I want to look good for the Americans, I skip the burger and fries and opt for a salad. When I ask for a fork the cashier says “No tengo.” Instead, he hands me a spoon.

What ensues is a thirty second non-verbal exchange during which I give him a look that says “You’re kidding, right?” and he responds with a look that says “Suck it up, princess. I eat cereal with a mortar and pestle.”

I spend the next fifteen minutes huddled in the corner trying to hide the fact that I’m eating salad with my hands.

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This is what happens when I don't use a fork.

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12:15 am- Go to baggage claim area.

Through the window I see a man carrying my knapsack over to the conveyor belt. It’s so close I can smell the hairspray that has leaked all over my souvenirs. All they need to do is turn on the belt and it will be mine.

Out of nowhere a security guard walks up. He looks at my bag, then pulls out his radio and makes a call.

Another girl, a Mexican, is standing beside me. She says she’s been waiting for her bag for over an hour. Frustrated, she bangs on the window to get their attention.

“Cuál es el problema!?”

The guard pops his head under the flap. Because of his thick accent, I can only understand the words “Federales” drogas” and “perros”.

Mexican girl is livid. She yells something along the lines of “It was just on the other airplane! The only way there would be any drugs in my bag is if you put them there!”

Obviously this logic is too complicated for the guard to understand, as he waves his hand dismissively and goes back to doing nothing.

1:15 am- Dogs arrive.

The guard walks one of them up and down the conveyor belt. Dog sniffs. No reaction. Apparently this isn’t the answer he was hoping for, so he brings the dog around again. And again. Eleven times. Dumbfounded, I instinctively pull out my phone and start taking pictures.

Suddenly, another security guard pops his head through the flap.

“No puedes tomar photos!”

He orders me to delete them. Normally I would be scared shitless, but it’s one in the morning and I’m not thinking clearly and since Mexican girl didn’t get shot for talking back,  I stand my ground and tell him in perfectly-accented Spanish that I can’t because my family is nervous and my amiga with driving car makes sad face when plane says hello with no drug-containing friend.

“Borrarlas!” he yells, and I don’t know what that means but I assume my answer didn’t fly so I delete them but secretly keep one as a memento/proof because I’ve been told that some people think my proclivity for lying borders on pathological:

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2:45 am– Finally get my bag.

I spend the next six hours sitting on a bench, creating the following  list of commonly mistranslated Spanish phrases that I’ve unfortunately found out the hard way:

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Scenario 1- When asked how long you plan to be in the country for:

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Scenario 2- When expressing feelings of hunger:

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Scenario 3- When interrupting your Spanish teacher in the middle of class to tell him what a good driver you are because this obviously relates to your ability to learn the language quickly:.

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Scenario 4- When not-so-subtly-hinting to same teacher that it might be a good idea to turn on the fan:

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Scenario 5- When trying to sound “hip”:

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Scenario 6- When asking for extra pickles on your sub:

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Scenario 7- When making small talk with the cashier while he rings through your bag of potato chips:

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Scenario 8- When being introduced to a guy named “Jose”:

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Scenario 9- After noticing there is a child sitting on the curb eating rocks while his oblivious mother is too busy conversing with another local to notice:

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Scenario 10- When, in an effort to cover up your obvious error, you tell that same woman you really like her kid because you know parents like hearing that stuff:

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Final Scenario- When, after chugging back shots at a local nightclub with a dozen local men all vying for your attention (because, well, who wouldn’t rather get with a pasty white gringa as opposed to one of those boring olive-skinned curvy types?), you fall off the bar stool, and in your obliterated state assume that by adding “ada” to the end of an English word this will automatically make it Spanish:

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**FYI- I also do one-on-one tutoring.  Contact me at bschooled@hotmail.com for rates.

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