Okay, delayed reaction. I haven't had Internet access since I
returned from Brazil, but I had to send this out. Enjoy:

This blog will be long and excruciatingly detailed. I thought my
Brazil logs were over when I sent out my last e-mail, but
unfortunately the plane ride alone is worthy of it's own blog.

Background: As I stated before, we were stuck in the São Paulo
airport for the entire day on our trip to Rio from Porto Alegre. The
airline we were traveling on is called Gol.

J has stayed behind to go to the Amazon along with many other
students from the trip who are staying in Brazil for as long as they
can. Eleven of us are scheduled to fly Gol at 4:10 PM to arrive in
São Paulo at 5:20 PM. One girl is staying in São Paulo while the
other ten of us are scheduled to fly Delta at 9:40 PM on a direct
flight to NYC. K and I are discussing every possible way to get to
NYC ASAP without having to deal with Gol. Before the bus came to take us to the airport we searched for direct flights from Rio to NYC, but to no avail, we were stuck on this Gol flight. According to the website updates, it was still scheduled
to leave on time.

When we arrive at 2:45 or so, K and I immediately take our luggage
and head for the line because we're used to it being fairly long. The
other 9 trail behind and we all check in. The lady at the desk tells
us the flight is delayed until 5:20 PM. While sitting at the gate, an
announcement is made that the flight will be delayed until 6:30 PM.
We're now getting nervous and M (the girl who kept Gol on their
toes the last time we were stuck in the airport) goes to speak with
someone who speaks English to tell them that we need to get to São
Paulo in time to catch out flight. We're told that we will arrive by
7:40 with just enough time to get to our flight. Within in just
moments another announcement comes over the loudspeaker explaining
that the plane will not be arriving in Rio until 7:40. No weather
issues, no excuses…the flight is delayed indefinitely. We're sitting, by the way, in a terminal straight out of 1972 with formica chairs and retro grime stuck in every crevice since the place was built. M goes to speak with a manager. The Gol manager has no remorse nor desire to help, so M asks to speak with Delta to make them aware of our plight. The Rio Delta manager gives us contact information for the São Paulo Delta manager and informs us that a Delta representative will be waiting for us in São Paulo to escort us to the plane. In the meantime, Gol has cancelled the flight altogether and placed us on another airline
that's German, so for some reason I'm confident it will leave at the scheduled 7:15 PM departure. It does and we arrive in São Paulo at around 8:30 PM.

We run to the baggage claim dodging customs lines because we were
traveling within the country. When we get to baggage claim all 11 of
us begin to gather our luggage while M goes to find our Delta
representative. One girl leaves to enjoy São Paulo and a few of us
who have our luggage find M stressed and alone. She said that we
should just get to the check in as soon as possible so at least some
of us can catch the flight because it's on the other side of the
airport. So, K and I start running. We're in terminal E and Delta
check-in is at terminal A. As I dodge luggage carts and baby
strollers, I finally arrive at the check-in with K very close
behind at approximately 9:10. I speak with someone about our flight
and he immediately moves us to the front to speak with a service rep.
The manager is right there behind her and I tell him the other 8 of us
were still gathering luggage and they're right behind me. He says that
they will be placed on an 11 PM flight that flies to NYC with a
stopover in Atlanta, but K and I will be on this flight. As we are
being handed our boarding passes, a girl from our group arrives and
asks what's up. I tell her that she needs to talk to the manager
because I'm not sure if she's gonna make it on the 9:40 flight.

We are then assisted by a Delta rep who tells us that the only way to
make it through the HUGE line at International departures is to feign
an injury and be pushed in a wheel chair. K and I decide that K
should do it. She gets in the wheel chair and is briefed on how she
must act. Whatever happens, she cannot walk or they will make us wait
in line. We bypassed the International departures entrance fairly
easily with the help of our trusty wheelchair pusher (who speaks no
English). Then, we get to security and the guy at the metal detector
won't buy that she can't walk at all. "No puedo," K says in
Spanish. Finally the Delta rep tells Kate that she can walk and
assists K through the metal detector and back to her wheelchair.
At this point, I've got both of our carry-ons placed on the x-ray
conveyor and suddenly as my turn approaches, the metal detector
breaks. I see K ahead of me sitting in the wheelchair with her
back to me and I'm stuck. The crowd was too great to move to another
line, and I felt like this would be the end. After about 3 minutes,
though it seemed like an eternity, the man fixes the machine and I
jump through the metal detector as quickly as possible.

As the Delta rep continues to push K in the wheelchair, I notice
that security is no longer in sight. K looks up at me and says we
should walk the rest of the way, and we muffle through words but
clearly state, "caminar" (to walk). He asks us if we're sure and we
confirm that we are. As K gets up we both agree that we should
continue to milk it just in case people are walking. This whole time
K has had this drugged-up look of sickness and pain on her face
brilliantly playing her part of the invalid, but when we realize that
our flight is supposed to leave any moment, we quickly pick up the
pace and suddenly start running to the gate which is at the very end
of the terminal.

We meet one girl there from our group who left much earlier in the day
to catch the 11 PM flight to Atlanta because she was going home to
Texas. We describe our trip and ask her to explain what happened to
the others if they make it on that flight with her. I still don't
know if they did or not. Well, we finally board our plan with this
sigh of relief and elated giddiness in our hearts, not because we left
our group behind, but because we can finally go home and no longer be
stuck in an airport for hours and hours. We are not sitting near each
other, so I go to find K at her seat on the plane and she sitting
in the middle of the middle three seats between two really fat men.
She looks like a sardine and I can't help but laugh at the irony.
Chalk it up to Karma she says. Fortunately, one of the large men's
wife was sitting in a different seat and wanted to sit with him, so
K was able to sit in the very last seat in the back of the plane.

My flight was pleasant, I got to see Blades of Glory and was hit on by
the both flight attendants along my aisle:
"What would you like to drink? There is a complimentary alcoholic
beverage tonight: beer, wine, cocktails…" she trails off in her
accented English.
"I'll have apple juice," I reply. "I don't drink alcohol."
"You don't? Are you married?"
"Uh…no."
"You are my perfect man? A man who doesn't drink." She gives me this
look as though I'm Prince Charming and I sheepishly accept my apple
juice and turn my iPod back on. (God bless earphones when you don't
want to talk to someone).
Later, the other flight attendant comes by to pick up my trash and
stops at me to have a little conversation. Crouching he says,
"Where are you from?"
"Originally, Las Vegas, but I live in NYC now," I reply
"How long were you in Brazil?"
"Only three weeks. I was on a study abroad."
"So you weren't able to learn any Portuguese," replies the young Brazilian.
"I learned a few phrases: obrigado, tchau, so cu (and I give him 5
followed by some knuckle), com licensa (which I used abundantly in my
flight through the airport terminals), donde o banhero , voce é muito
lindo, e tira a ruopa."
(Translation: thank you, bye, gimme some knuckle, excuse me, where's
the bathroom, you're very handsome, and take your clothes off.)
Now, I realize the final two phrases are scandalous to say the least,
but those were the phrases I learned, and I couldn't pass up my final
opportunity to speak Portuguese.
He laughs and asks, "I bet those phrases came in very handy on your trip."
"Very!" Then I told him where I learned the last two phrases and we laughed.
Basically the rest of the flight found me very catered to. My
marriage proposal flight attendant made me a breakfast cocktail of
orange juice and cranberry juice that she prepared special for me
since I don't drink, and the other one brought me water whenever I
asked. My mom always said these looks would get me somewhere some
day…thanks, Mom.

P.S. It turns out that 7 other girls were stuck in the airport overnight and caught a flight on Tam the next morning. Best of luck to those who wish to fly in Brazil, and all joking aside, the runways are a bit too short as we all learned from the tragic accident only a few days after my return from the country. I would suggest you find different means of travel once you get to the country should you choose to visit.