All notifications on the airplane intercom are read in Spanish. I'm the only anglophone on the flight. The flight attendants rotate through familiar motions in a different language.
Would I like a pop (refresco) to drink? Do I want eggs or pancakes for breakfast. Te quiere juevos o panqueques por desayuno?
I contemplate my insufficient Spanish. I pour over my dictionary, and practice conjugating verbs. I write down phrases that I will need once I land in Guatemala City. I need to find a shuttle to Antigua.
Necesito ir a Antigua.
Cuanto cuesta por una persona?
My stomach clenches with excitement. I'm getting very close. I look out my window into the darkness that surrounds the airplane. I wonder which part of Mexico I'm flying above right now. The only Mexican city I've flown into is Manzanillo, which is on the Pacific Coast. I'm crossing new territory.
The plane lurches violently. The pilots voice emanates from the speakers. The seatbelt light turns on . The handful of other passengers tighten their belts.
The plane rocks and I have no idea what he said. I think 'plane' was in there somewhere. My Spanish needs work.
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