stolen time

I think I~m one of exactly three people in this internet place actually surfing the web. The other two are my friend Jenna and her friend Jason. Everyone else is 1) male, 2) between the ages of 13 and 30, and 3) playing RPG and other assorted arcade and fantasy games. They make a LOT of noise. I~m trying to get in a creative writing mood but it~s not easy given the sirens, explosions, and screeches going on around me. Every few seconds someone yells out ´Porra´ or ´Caralho´ having just exterminated the guy sitting across the table in some dorky fight game.

As you can tell, I~m still struggling with the international keyboard. I can~t wait to get to Mozambique and have a high speed line to plug my laptop in. Also, some of the sites here are restricted, so those of you who follow my Fotolog will note a gap in my postings. For some reason I can~t sign in from any public computers...photos to follow once I get to Africa.

---- ----- ----

I don~t think I could have imagined a more fantastic last day in Austin. I spent the morning packing the last remaining things into the truck - Grandpa Hugh~s red glittery accordeon, a box with stereo equipment, and some dishes. Melvin and Joseph, two of my ex-staff members, came by to help load everything and install the partition in the trailer. We struggled for a while with this large, unwieldy piece of plywood but finally screwed it in place. I used exactly 6 feet of the truck. Perfect planning. Leticia came over and hung out for a bit, then we had to say our goodbyes. Of all the friends I left beind in Austin, she is one I~m certain I~ll see again soon. She is from Rio, and I just know our paths will cross again in this chaotic city. Although I~ve only known Leticia for a few months, it was a surprisingly poignant goodbye. There is a connection between travelers that forms more quickly and sincerely than most ´normal´ friendships, and Le was no exception. We hugged tight, thanking each other and making plans to meet again soon. That~s when it really started to sink in. I had just said goodbye to all my best friends...

Instinct told me to double check my itinerary. I thought I was supposed to leave at 4pm, but when I pulled out my ticket it said 7pm. I had an extra 3 hours to take advantage of the perfect spring day before leaving for Rio! Keith and I started making plans. I felt like a little kid, literally jumping up and down in the middle of his living room when he suggested a motorcycle ride and swimming at Barton Springs.

My poor mom...I don~t mean to worry her unnecessarily, but she has this fear of motorcycles, and I always seem to ride on them when I^m far from her reach. I called to tell her about my new flight time and plans for the afternoon. ´Ali, it gives me quivers in my bones to know that you~re riding on a motorcycle on the day you~re supposed to leave.´

´Don~t worry,´I told her, ´I~m with someone that, together, I´m certain we´re shrouded in good karma.´

I clung to Keith~s back, looking at my reflection in the mirror. The sun was hot on our backs and my hair whipped around my face, too short to pull back. We stopped for smoothies, then headed for the springs. The water in Barton Springs in notoriously cold, so we hung out on the big rocks by the banks for a while, getting to know more about each other. It~s so strange how you can feel so comfortable with somebody and know relatively so little about each other. We told endless stories and baked in the sun, then Keith convinced me to get in the water. It wasn~t as bad as I~d anticipated, but the rocks were slimy and I had to test each step before shifting my weight so I wouldn~t lose my balance. We swam out to the middle of the creek where the current was swift. It was like being on a swimming treadmill, endless breast strokes without advancing forward. Keith grabbed my hands and drew me back upstream, and we made our way back to the shore.

And then it was time to go...

After an intense but tearless goodbye, I loaded my suitcases into the rental car and drove myself to the airport. I sang along to the radio, felt the wind on my face, and started sobbing. This was it.

I dropped off the car, strapped on my backpack, and barely managed to carry all my suitcases to the check-in desk. The Continental agent informed me that the flight to Houston was slightly delayed, but that I should still have time to make my connection to Sao Paulo. I waited at the gate, called my mom and dad, and said phone goodbyes to the remaining friends I hadn~t seen. Closure.

Then the agent announced that the flight was even further delayed. I wouldn~t have time to get the connection in Houston. I would have to stay another night in Austin!!!! I think I was the only happy person in the line of stressed-out travelers waiting at the podium. I called Keith and broke the news...I had another 24 hours in Austin. I took a cab back to his house (my house!), ate some cashews, and thought about my situation. Clandestine time in a city after saying goodbye to everyone I know. I toyed with calling everyone up and organizing one last big night out, but something inside me was against it. I sort of enjoyed the idea of being in a place I wasn~t supposed to be anymore. Only one person knew I was there. Stolen time.

Damn. My internet time is about to run out. More later. I am doing well, enjoying this crazy place, and sleeping more than I ever thought possible.

Love you all.