Two Thousand Dollar Humility

As it's now shortly after seven thirty in the evening, it seems fitting that the entire saga began approximately 24 hours ago.

I returned from Rio on Monday, riding the high of exoticism and confidence, after three heavenly days of beaches, sunshine, and beautiful, tourist packed scenery. I knew this was my last week in Brazil, and that my flight on June 28th was fast approaching. On Tuesday, I attended my second last class, spoke briefly with the co-ordinator about how my flight left a few days earlier, and afterward and had mall sushi for dinner before heading home, with nought but peace of mind knowing I'd made the most of my time in Brazil.

It was approximately 7:40pm on June 26th that I pulled out my flight information in order to confirm my flight for the 28th...

And realized that my flight had left at 1:55pm earlier in the afternoon. My flight from Florianopolis had left at 1:55pm the 26th. My flight from Sao Paolo was leaving at 6:30pm the 26th, and my flight from Santiago to Toronto was leaving on the 27th. I was supposed to be IN Toronto on the 28th, in order to see my parents for a night, have a solid sleep and a bath at the Sheraton, and catch my flight to Capetown at 6:50pm, June 29th.

I described it in an email to my parents as a combination of thoughtlessness, carelessness, and possibly cosmic hubris.

I'd been discussing for some weeks now how one of the core values I would like to strengthen in myself is humility, but also how I had a great deal of fear, because humility is gained only when something happens hard and fast enough for life to really get to rub your nose in it, and I was afraid how that might occur.
Another aspect of myself I've been trying hard to adjust is my constant attachment to expectation. Things go my way, or they simply don't go. I make up my mind to not enjoy something.

So, as I stared in bewildered, creeping shock at my flight dates, I'm sure a number of thoughts ran through my head, but I actually don't remember any of them. I took my papers, found Corey in the other room, and said,

"I have a problem." I indicated my dates.

"Today?" His eyes widened.

Another inner failing is that I have always had a problem with accepting help from others and, worse still, acknowledging that others have more experience or knowledge of anything.
 However, with the dawning realization of the world of utter ballsed-up I had just entered, and the settling feeling of So THIS is something I'm going to learn this summer..., I was highly aware that I was fortunate enough to be with not only a seasoned world traveler, but someone who had many times planned, fixed, and expedited his own and others travel details. I let the comforting buffer of emotional shock catch up with me and, with an utterly gobsmacked shrug, handed him my crisis book of phone numbers and bookings, and told him:

"I don't know how to fix this."

I don't know how has literally been my shoot-in-the-foot quality that I have grappled with for years. I have always loathed showing anything but instant adeptness at anything I turn my hand to. It perhaps seems at odds, because I know my own intelligence, and my own speed of learning. What is harder to see is the fact that when are you are intelligent and learn quickly, laziness is an easy vice. You don't have to study, you don't have to overly prepare, you can slapdash together what you need and get an A+. When I came across things I was less good at, I didn't work at it. I ignored it, and saw it as a faintly interesting pursuit that other people had. Admitting that not only are there things I don't know and am not prepared for was bad enough, but being forced to admit that there are things I don't know and NEED to know but don't is worse. Especially when there is no other blame but that which lies with me.

Within 15 minutes, Corey was on the phone with TAM airlines, LAN airlines, and Air Canada, explaining to me, in between holds, that he was checking if there were any flights to allow me to catch up in either Sao Paulo, Santiago, or in fact anything that could bring me to Toronto on time.
I followed with a note book and pen, nodding and absorbing and getting into a very zen state about it all.

One thing I always thank crisis mode for is that it's so much easier to stay calm, because it's already happened. The flight was missed. The shit had happened, and all I had to do was keep my head and focus on dealing with it. So, I took deep breaths, drank many glasses of water, and paid attention.

After over an hour and a half of alternate hold periods (at some point, when I asked what I could do, I was told to go pack, just in case) it had been determined that no flight would get me a catch-up to my previously booked tickets, and so the best course of action all airlines could recommend was to book a new ticket from Florianopolis to Capetown.

I was continually more and more aware of how EVERYTHING I had been most afraid of this Summer had happened:

1) Made a stupid cock-up, for no other reason than irresponsibility
2) Proved myself a failure who couldn't take care of herself
3) Lost value amounting to thousands of dollars
4) Failed at striding about the world independently


 And there was no way to hide my shame from anyone.

...And it really wasn't so awful.

I realized I wouldn't see my parents, or have my bath at the Sheraton, or even use 4000.00 worth of plane tickets I had already paid for. But, you know what?

My legs could both have been broken.
I could have been born in Saudi Arabia.
I could be a thalydomide kid with something in my eye. (Tim Minchin)


Really, if I had needed a crash course in anything, life could have been rougher with me. It was a mistake, and an expensive one, but that's all it was. An expensive mistake. And for all the sheer stupidity of it and loss of worth, I had still had an unreal summer, where I had done amazing things, and border hopped, and learned more than I ever thought I could in less than two months. So what- I'll go straight to Capetown, fix things as best I can, and hopefully the experience will teach me not to let it happen again, and if it does, I'll have learned what to do.

It was, cosmically eerie enough, very shortly after this realization that I clued into another possibility as Corey browsed his bookmarked travel sites for the cheapest flight to South Africa.

"Wait- If I need to pay 1500 to get to Capetown from here anyway, I might as well just pay that to get a new ticket to Toronto entirely, and still use the Toronto-Capetown flights. That's the majority of my costs, anyway."

"But if you miss the first portion of your flights-"

"No, it's a seperate ticket!"

Toronto to Capetown was it's own booking. Missing the flights to Sao Paulo and Santiago would have no impact, other than about 1600.00 gone, provided I could get to Toronto by the 29th.

It worked out even better.

I was able to book a new ticket to Toronto, and would arrive the morning of the 28th. I could still have a bath, go to Red Lobster with my parents, and sleep like a two-days-of-transit exhausted baby before leaving for Capetown.

And for only 1300.00? Considering I had missed a premiere flight by five and a half hours, that was like a slap on the wrist. I packed neatly, prepared my documents and new information for the next day, reconfirmed my arrangements, and felt like I'd handled things well, all things considered, and that perhaps I'd learned something.

That was the lesson.

Little did I know how soon the Test would follow.

The next day, I arrived at the airport. Accompanying me were my Brazilian family and, by sheer providence, seeing as he had his own bookings to attend to, Corey.

It turns out, my booking did not exist.

My Brazilian family, who speak no English, heard the translation but were at a loss as to how to help. Again, while I grappled with a crippling case of this can't possibly be happening, Corey found a Tourist information desk, an internet connection, a phone card, and got calling. While I again took notes and paid attention, he spoke with the agency, and found out that my booking had been cancelled- due to some "third party error" in the system, and that they had supposedly sent me an email that morning which I hadn't received.

Over the course of a 40 minute phone card, he sorted, I answered booking questions, and my Brazilian parents guarded my luggage, and appeared occasionally to hug me and murmur comforting Portuguese assurances.

There were many small annoyances, such as:

The company was able to fix the booking, but it was too late to catch the flight, since I was at the airport only one hour ahead of time.
The phone card ran our immediately following Corey's saying "Yes, that will work, can we please book-" at the cheapest, most direct flight.
No airport desk save one had an internet connection which allowed them to use google, making it almost a full 35 minutes before we were able to connect with the agency at all, because I had all the booking and ticket info, but no phone number for them.

We ended up booking yet another ticket, this one leaving tomorrow at 1:55pm, getting me to Toronto at 9:46am... on the 29th. Enough to catch my flight to South Africa in the evening, and enough to see my parents for a few hours. No Sheraton, no Bath, no Break during four solid days of international flying. It was costing 400.00 more dollars than the first one. The slap on the wrist had a bit more sting.

When we returned to the house, Corey had arranged to reconfirm the booking, just to make sure all was well and that we could rest assured I was actually going to fly out tomorrow afternoon. The booking, regrettably, couldn't be made. My credit card had been declined.

Ok, easy if embarrassing fix. Corey made the booking, in my name, under his credit card and information. We're both with RBC- I could transfer the money directly to him afterward.

Further regrettably, it was explained that that was not possible. Since Corey was not flying as well, he could not make the booking for me, since it was not my credit card. It was to protect the cardholder.

"But, I AM the cardholder!" Was, to his credit, the most annoyed I had so far heard him be with a service agent. In the end, the real end, this time, he had to send not only every piece of information on his credit card, but, I think, re-confirm with corresponding ID.

So, things as they stand now:

I have a flight, for tomorrow at 1:55pm. I plan on being there at 11:30am. I fly to Sao Paulo, then to Washington, and arrive in Toronto Friday morning. I will see my parents, and I will have time to purchase a camera with my ever-hemorrhageing funds, and then I will get to Capetown by July first.  I WILL get to Capetown. If I have to damn well swim, I will get to Africa this Summer.

So, how do I feel about my adult, zen, humble coping skills now?

Well, it's mixed.

Last night, I fell asleep feeling pretty good. Things had been sorted, I felt more confindent about being able to handle crises, and I felt like the worst had happened, and that I could handle it and ride it out, monetary losses and all. And, to be honest, there are FAR worse losses than monetary. People have pissed away more money that I lost at a bad casino night, and more truly awful things can happen to a person than being a few grand in the hole, especially when they live at home and have the safety net of two credit cards, a loan, and e-transfers if necessary.

Tonight? Right now... I feel drained, low, and like I've had the mental and emotional shit kicked out of me. I still keep reminding myself that, all told, things can be worse. I'm not hurt, nor is anyone I love. I'm not in danger. This didn't all happen when I was halfway through flights across the globe and I had to deal with it alone in a non-English country with no prior experience. Sometimes, life just happens to get out of control and the only thing I CAN control is how to respond. Which, to my former chagrin, sometimes requires the help of other people.

I want very badly to talk only about how I now feel like I can handle it if it happens again tomorrow, and that I now feel I know how to respond in unanticipated screw-ups... But I can't do that without acknowledging that, until the past 24 hours, I DIDN'T know how, and I'm STILL not entirely confident. I'm sure I could have cobbled something together, and been over-quick and over-nervous and possibly paid twice as much for equal convenience. But, I had help and support.

 So, for the sake of new found humility:

Corey; You completely and utterly managed a crisis yesterday and today, and very patiently explained exactly how you were doing it and walked me through the process in case it happens again, when I will HAVE to deal with it solo. You did not make me feel foolish or incapable at all; you were encouraging and positive and made me truly believe that if, by either some Cosmic Lesson yet to learn or perhaps an as yet Unnamed Airport Trickster God, my flights are cocked up tomorrow when you are gone, I can handle it, and that I will get to where I need to go come hell or high water by myself. I owe you many things, including at least two grand and my firstborn child.

My Brazilian Parents; Their unending patience and gestured encouragement turned what was a ghastly mess into a minor inconvenience, and also saved me upwards of a hundred dollars of cab fare. All this, last minute, after I screwed up my own timing, was the height of the generosity they've shown me. I wish google translate was adequate enough to fully express the tone of this message, but I suppose my pointing and hugging and endless 'Obrigada's will have to do.

Every single one of my friends and family who had utmost faith that I would be confident, capable, and handle myself; Actually, I cocked it all up something fierce- but I hope that's ok, because despite the fact that I pretend otherwise, I'm human, and that shit happens, and I hope you'll be just as proud of me for falling off my horse and getting up as you would be if I'd cleared a full round on the first try. The silver lining is, I met some people who can show me how to saddle the damn thing a bit better, and I'm no longer unwilling to take advice and a leg-up.

I feel a bit better, now I've got that out. I feel I've gained significant amounts of perspective, patience, and  appreciation. I also feel a wary respect that the universe won't hesitate to remind me if I forget about them. I am in the safe, warm home of a wonderful Brazilian family, with my laptop, my bags packed, and my flights booked and hopefully solid. Even if it all goes to hell again tomorrow, I'm somewhere where I have all my information, all the help I need, and hopefully the presence of mind to fix it myself if I should need to.
  In fact, I'm quietly terrified that the Universe/Unnamed Airport Trickster God may test me on it by erasing my bookings tomorrow and watching to see what I'll do.

But, I'll deal with that when it comes, if it comes. And I'll be there early, and I'll be there prepared with a phone card and the number of the agency. I'll either fix it or I won't, but either way I'll make the effort.

I can always swim to Africa.