Airport PTSD

Airport PTSD

I just want to introduce myself…

I am a world traveler!

No, don’t laugh. It's true!

I have been out of the state…. well, twice!

I have been such a home-body, my friends all started laughing to think I have even left the state!

Seriously though, I have seen a few places.

Which is actually sort of a problem because airports freak me out.

Actually, they enhance my natural sense of abandonment!

Once I flew from San Jose to LA. Then changed planes to fly to Guatemala!

I know, not exactly the romantic destination of all time.

Reactions from my friends went like this:

Them: “Where ya goin?”

Me: “Uh, Guatemala!”

Them: “Oh. (long pause) Why?”

This all became a little too real when I got to the International Airport in Guatemala City.

But, hey. Flying alone, what could actually go wrong?

Let’ see…

Customs: OK, I got this! And no, I am not 420 friendly…at least not on this trip!

Baggage: It arrived! Thank you, God.

Can’t really carry my luggage, no wheelies in those days, but I could drag it! What the heck did I

pack, anyway?

Dragging my luggage like a club foot with no shoe, I moved from Baggage to the lobby.

Does anyone even know I am here?

Not a familiar face in sight!

Hugs all around….just not for me

Where the F… is my boyfriend? Ride? Familiar face? Someone who speaks English!

Let’s put it this way, have you ever felt alone? Scared shitless? Like you were in the wrong place at the wrong time? In an alternate universe?

That was me!

Looking around more carefully…nope, not a familiar face in sight.

Last thing he said: “I’ll just meet you there!” Sure! I was beginning to question where “there" was and if my trust had been misplaced and what was I gonna’ do in a strange third world country, dragging my obviously American luggage, and speaking my high school Spanish!

Not a familiar face anywhere. Then I realized, while the room was noisy and crowded…there was not a syllable of English being spoken.

Lonely, abandoned, scared, tight throat, burning eyes, all washing over like one gigantic wave!

I was drowning.

What to do?

Breathe, breathe. It’s a start. Now is not the time to cry. Or shit your pants!

So I did what any seasoned, world traveler would do in the situation!

I panicked.

After 10 hours on the plane, to be in this situation, well, not good!

Do you think anyone would notice if I assumed a fetal position right here in the lobby, wrapped around my luggage, and died?

Probably not! But I was sorely tempted to try it!

Then I saw my way out!

The EXIT! Yes! Pushed and dragged my way to the door. It was held open by a policeman with a gun. Strange?

But I escaped the AC of the airport to the outside into the welcoming humidity of Guatemala.

And just like that….it was worse!

Policemen opening the door were there for a reason. To keep you from going back in!

Now it seemed safe back in the lobby, and certainly cooler, but NO!

Even in Spanish I understood that.

Now I began to get the picture of what the outside of the airport was all about…

Besides hot!

Picture this: I was a tall, white woman with blond hair, dragging two suitcases with a look of sheer terror on her face. Think what I must have looked like to the locals crowding the outside of the airport! A cross between a victim and roadkill!

And besides that, everyone, and I mean everyone, police included, was a head shorter than me! And either one or several shades darker or lighter than me. Not a pink person in sight!

And they all seemed more than capable of communicating verbally. Something I could not do!

I was the only tall, pink, non-verbal person there!

At this point I was crushed by not only the policemen blocking the door, but by soldiers. They blocked what escape path there might have been, rifles at the ready. Now I knew what terrorists must feel like! Then the taxi drivers started yelling at me in Spanish. “Lady, Lady, taxi?” “To town? Hotel?” “Hey Miss, Cutie, take my taxi!” Of course, their cries were incomprehensible to me! It just sounded like a bunch of unknown strangers trying to get my attention while yelling obscenities! And worst of all, they were pushing against me. I guess they failed to understand the concept of personal space!

Not that they were all crowding me, exactly, but they were touching me!

I was way past panic at this point. Way past shitting my pants. Way past lonely, abandoned, and scared, and all the way to hysterical and crying.

My life passed before my eyes. All I could see was the banner headlines of my hometown paper. (I told you I was from a small town?)

Local teacher loses it in Guatemala airport!”

All the friends who had laughed at me, leaving the state and flying alone to Guatemala, all were saying:

“I knew this would happen.”

“Told you so.” “No way around it, it was inevitable!”

“What were you expecting to happen?”

And then…

I saw my boyfriend coming down the outside stairs to collect me.