Dia 2: Parte 2

Part II: So I have a thought about travelers. Think of someone you know who's traveled to a foreign country; chances are, you've heard them tell you about some random, kind stranger who helped them, traveled with them, told them a good story, or all of the above. I've heard these stories from friends, but never quite experienced myself. I'm convinced that if you're going/coming, in between, or lost on your journey, your body begins to exude "happy traveler fumes" that attract others to you--I know it sounds silly, but stay with me here...
Going through security on my way to the gate, I came across a young guy working with the x-ray machine. First, he told me to keep it gangsta, so I said "aiiite." Then he asked to see my liquids, and if I had anything in them I shouldn't; I said no, those are packed away in the other bags I checked. Maybe not the best choice of words, but how did I happen to get the ONLY security worker with a personality? On my way to the gate, he asked me throw up a West side sign and I told him "Silly, we're in Virginia," and I walked away. Before I turned a corner, I heard a faint voice asking, "How about East side????"
After I got to my gate, I tried to buy my bus ticket from Lisboa to Badajoz. I tried earlier at home, and came to a dead end on the website I was using. I was connected to the internet but for some strange reason, the one website I needed wouldn't load up. I gave up for the day, and loaded the plane. After I sat down, an older gentleman next to me put out his hand and introduced himself. His name is Hubert and he was flying back home to the Netherlands. Over the course of the next few hours, he told me how during his visit, he met his new grandson for the first time and attended a tuba conference held by the Army. Here's a thought to ponder: he expressed his awe over the pride Americans have to be part of the Army, whether they are supporting or serving. Apparently, it's not the same in the Netherlands. It made me smile to receive an outsiders perspective on this particular subject. Chatting about government vs. private ownership of transit, America's energy ("If you initiate it, it will happen"), American's tolerance of diversity (more so than in the Netherlands), and so on made the time pass quickly. After Hubert started snoring (he says "I never sleep on planes"), I moved to a few open seats behind me and attempted sleep myself. I drifted in and out, but didn't have much luck, so I passed the rest of the flight reading about my new temporary home and writing in my new journal.
After landing in Amsterdam, Hubert wished me good luck, and I was on my way to my next gate. I landed around 7:15 AM local time, which was 1:15 AM for me, so this part of the trip is a bit hazy. At home I checked my two large suitcases, so all I had to carry was my camping-like backpack, laptop case, and drawstring bag with my essentials (passport, travelers cheques, wallet, lip gloss--haha, dad). With the distance I had to walk to get to my next gate, that backpack got REAL heavy and I probably sweated out everything I ate and drank the previous night. The Amsterdam airport is enormous and very nice. Mostly everything is in English, so it was easy to find my gate and to grab a cup of coffee and food. I settled down on a comfortable chair for my 5 hour layover, purchased unlimited internet, and continued to book my bus ticket to Badajoz. There are so many different accommodations at that airport, and I'm thank for it because I was not only able to buy my bus ticket, but I printed my ticket, my hotel reservations, as well as e-mailed my teachers, and even Skyped Mom--she seemed pretty psyched :)
Here, I met another guy--this one was stuck in layover purgatory. He was on his way back from his hometown in Nigeria after visiting his mom, but flights were changed and canceled and he had to wait 3 more hours for his flight back home to Germany. He must have had the urge to chat, because he immediately engaged me in conversation over the laptop bar. He labeled himself a "sci fi guy" and enjoyed talking about American TV shows, his favorite being (and I quote) "Doctor House." As he says, "Oh that Doctor House is just so funny, soo sarcastic...." and with that jumped to CSI: Miami, CSI: Vegas, NCIS, Smallville.... After hearing about difficulties he has about getting a Visa to visit family in Nigeria, my experience doesn't even compare. I'm glad I live in America.I passed these lovely things on my way to my gate. Must be something in the water.... On my way to my gate, I must have passed a soccer team, or something of this sort heading for Madrid. All I can say is, after I'm done in Badajoz, I'm going straight to Madrid to watch a match; I might be in love! I boarded a much smaller plane for my two and a half hour flight to Lisbon. Everybody spoke Portuguese on the flight, and flight attendants repeated information in English afterward. Again, the flight was fairly empty, so I raised the armrests of the two seats next to me, lay flat on my face, and passed out until the crew began preparations for landing. Portugal is a beautiful country! Watching it from above in a plane is such a treat--everything is so green, you can see all the towns and villages, and the cities and beaches on the water. Here's the obligatory photo from the plane:

On the flight, there was a family that was talking in a way that was so animated, it gave me an idea to how the people of Portugal might be. I sure hoped so, and with that I hopped off the plan and on to the tarmac in Lisboa :)