Atlanta Airport

Upon landing in Atlanta I was told that I had to do the following in one hour and thirty three minutes:

1. Go through immigration.
2. Pick up my luggage.
3. Take my luggage through customs.
4. Re-check my luggage to get to my flight for South Bend.
5. Go through a security check-point.
6. Make it to the other side of the airport.

I also wanted something to eat, but I thought that was not possible. So I actually started at pace somewhere between a brisk walk and a jog. I think there may have been actually 5000 people at immigration. They opened up a bunch more lanes and moved us through in about 30 minutes. Then I ran to get my bags, that took about 10 minutes. Luckily, customs did not go through them and Delta had people all along the way pointing us in the right way. The longest part was going through security. Everyone automatically took off their belts and shoes to get through. After that I put my shoes and belt back on and took off for the subway that links all of Atlanta. I started in concourse D and had to get to concourse B, luckily it went from D to C and to B, and not the other way around. I came up the escalator and saw my gate within sight and I had 30 minutes to spare. I headed to Popeye's chicken for some dark meat, a biscuit and some red beans and rice.

I sat at the gate and enjoyed the flavors of cumin and red cayenne pepper which no one in Costa Rica had considered using in any of the dishes I ate during the last three weeks. I wanted to grab someone next to me and say, "Do you realize how incredible this chicken is? I have not had chicken like this for a month-it's a beautiful thing!" I decided my culinary preferences would be lost at best on my fellow travellers.

I had also spent the last hour running like a rat in a maze. Being back in the US reminds me how incredibly stressed we are, and how incredibly efficient we are. I never saw anything like this in Costa Rica, it was like coming off of the farm and going back to the big city. I was stressed, but I was where I needed to be with an incredible piece of chicken in my greasy mitts. The employees of Delta and the INS were not overly friendly, but they knew their jobs and were good at them.

In the end, that's one of the trades between life in the US and life in some parts of Latin America. The US is efficient, fast, has everything you need or want, but leads to a group of people that are stressed-out, impersonal and can come off as kind of rude.

I was reminded of something one of my professors at the language school in Costa Rica told me. She said that people are more important to Latinos than goals. People come before efficiency. That really stuck with me. I don't know how to combine that with gringo-like efficiency. I don't know where that fits in my own job, or my own goals, or who I want to be.

I do know its something I want to be a part of my life...

Juanito

Next Costa Rican Entry: Home At Last