Me and my guitar :)

The Flight to Brazil.

Let’s start with the good news. After a grueling ten-hour layover I boarded my overnight “Aeromexico” flight to São Paulo. I hadn’t even lifted my guitar a foot off of the ground when it became abundantly clear that there was no way that baby was fitting in the overhead compartment. Seeing how for some reason this Boeing 747 was one of the only planes in its class NOT equipped with a coat closet I was S.O.L and being ordered to quickly get my guitar checked and into the cargo hold so that the plane could take off. My initial reaction was to break down into tears, fall on the floor and blow my nose on the pant leg of the awfully cute Mexican flight attendant, however I decided on a more passive approach and I just . . . Sat there and waited. Sure enough, the flight was under booked and when I was sure it was just going to be little ole’ me in that row of three, I pleaded with the flight attendants to let my guitar sit next to me on one of the seats.

Note: you are officially fluent in a second language if you can haggle your way out of a frustrating airline situation without once dropping your cover that you might truly be a ::gasp:: “Gringa.”

They finally took pity on me and my obvious obsession for my guitar – who I fondly refer to as “nena” (baby). The funniest part about all of this is that just days earlier when attempting to find a solution to this potential situation, I had turned to my mom and said “won’t it be nice when I’m wealthy enough to buy a ticket for my guitar so she can just sit next to me safe and sound during the flight.” I turned to my Nena (snuggled safely on the seat next to me) smiled, and thought – we’re big time baby!