I made it

I'm sitting in my room in Chile.
I made it.

I have been traveling for more than 24 hours, and I am extremely worn out, but surprisingly awake. My mind is crazily tired, but I can't fall asleep.
The rest of the trip was good. I met a woman on the plane to Colombia who talked to me in random spurts about her life and asked about my adventure. It was then that I realized that my world was now officially set in Spanish and that my brain would have to do all it could to keep up. The directions in the plane were now only said in Spanish, and I immediately felt like an outsider. My flight to Colombia actually offered a meal, but unfortunately my nerves would barely let me touch it (for those of you who've traveled with me, you know it's a rarity for me not to eat airplane food...I oddly enjoy it). I couldn't sleep a wink, so I read and wrote and watched about 5 minutes of the in flight movie before deciding it was too horrible to continue.
When I arrived in Colombia, things were different. There was no cell phone at my disposal, and my language was now the second one to come on over the loudspeaker. I found my terminal and waited. The chairs were orange and looked like they had been flown in from the 80's and never made it past this airport. I buried myself in a book and waited some more.
The flight to Santiago proved to be much better than the others. It was the last leg of my trip and luckily I didn't have anyone sitting next to me. As much as I loved random conversations, at this point I was done wanting to answer questions and use my brain for much of anything. They gave us a meal on this flight too, which I poked at quite a bit more, but unfortunately they doused it in cilantro (the one food I despise)...yup, I must be on my way to South America.
I slept slept slept, and the flight went fairly quickly.
Upon arriving, I met a couple from England who were now living in Chile and they offered me some advice and some support. They gave me their business card and told me that if I was looking for a job teaching English, they could help me out because they had moved here two years ago and had many contacts since they worked with the schooling system. They traveled with their 4 year-old son (who was oddly behaved on such a long flight...well done, chap), and they had such a warm kindness in their eyes. Before we parted ways, the woman took my arm and said "please call if you need anything. There is a network of foreigners, and we're here to help you out. We were in your place once too." I thanked her, with tears in my tired eyes, and I went my way.
When I was almost home free (past luggage, customs etc.) I was stopped because I had forgotten to declare a damn apple that I forgot about in the bottom of my backpack. I bought it in Florida, thinking I would devour it, but never got around to it. After a lot of paperwork and almost a lot of stressful tears (I kept it fairly together, I must say...) they charged me 200 US dollars because I FORGOT to declare it. "Really? I don't want the damn apple. Just throw it the hell away" I could only muster up a teary "ok. shit", and they smiled at me saying if it were their choice, they'd let me go.
So, needless to say, the Chilean government has already screwed me out of some money, but I'll also never to forget about the apples in my backpack. Oh well.
I took a cab to the center of the city and talked with the cab driver on the way here about everything from jazz music to president Bush and president-elect Obama. Luckily, we had quite the same views.
After 20 minutes, I arrived.
I got to the door.
I rang the bell.
I recognized a face from a Craigslist picture, and my roommate Isa came to the door in her robe. She's already so sweet, and she showed me my room, gave me a map and keys, the internet code, earplugs (my balcony is loud) and told me to rest and that we'd speak today or tomorrow when I was recovered. She shut the door and I cried. I made it.
Now, I should probably try to sleep...Perhaps I'll be up by next week.
I miss you all already.

Keep the hugs flowing.
much much love.