Hola familia y amigos!
I am happily settled
into Mexico! I barely had any time to say goodbye at the airport (I
nearly lost it in the security line after saying goodbye to Dad), and
then it was straight on through security and on to Texas. When I
arrived in Dallas, my plan was to sit in the aiport pitifully by myself
and mope, but a mob of other missionaries met up in the same gate as me
and there wasn't even time to be sad. I met three sisters going to the
same mission as me! Hermana Howell, Rogers, and Hawkins (Hawkins is my
companion for the MTC). The flight from Dallas to Mexico went well--I
had a window seat (my favorito) and it was fun to see the perfect
geographically mapped out squares and circles of fields in America turn
into haphazard boundary lines and chaos. The MTC, or CCM, as it is
called here, is right in the middle of the craziness. There are so many
buildings they look like they're just stacked one on top of the other.
As soon as we arrived at the airport in Mexico City, we passed through
customs and I followed five other sisters straight out of airport
security....without picking up our bags first.... I don't know how we
didn't think to grab them, but we didn't, and we no longer had our
customs papers to get back through. So we back-tracked, and somehow I
ended up being the orator who attempted to explain to the workers why we
all needed to go back through the gates. So, as it was a sufficiently
embarrassing situation, I told airport security, "Lo siento, necesitamos
nuestra equipaje--lo siento. Estoy muy embarassada." Which, I thought
meant, "So sorry, we all need our luggage. I'm sorry, I'm so
embarrassed," but which actually translates to, "So sorry, we all need
our luggage. I'm sorry, I'm very pregnant." That raised some
eyebrows. After a few minutes of brief confusion, and realizing what I
had said, we were able to pass through and get our luggage. And for
the record, no, I'm not pregnant.