I haven't been outside of the country for more than two hours and I already miss Colombia.
The Panama airport is so...America. The iPads, bathrooms with toilet paper, $7 sandwiches, everyone minding their own business, stores that accept credit cards, people looking busy--completely disconnected from the present world and completely connected to a virtual one, and people of all shapes and sizes--little white kids tugging mini roller suitcases, fit middle-aged men with salt and pepper hair and a baseball cap to match their squeaky sneakers, busty latin women in impossible heels, tattoos, thick-framed glasses, stripy backpacks, English, Japanese, Portuguese...
It was such a human garden salad that not a single head turned for a second glance at my blonde hair. Talk about culture shock. I walked to the other side of the airport to spend $5 on a beer I didn't want just on the off chance of attracting some attention.
As I sat there loathing myself for the COP20.000 I had blown on three chocolate bars and a beer--completely violating the eating/spending fast I had vowed to in the morning--I realized my impending re-assimilation to the States might be harder than I thought.
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