I knew I didn't want to leave Quito!

My flight left Quito at 8 AM this morning. Mi madre ecuatoriana told me I should leave at 6 en punto. However, my alarm didn't ring this morning like it was supposed to. Go figure.

Entonces, I rush to finish packing, wolf down some breakfast that was probably delicious but was swallowed whole, and cry as mi mamá tells me that I'll always have a home and family in Ecuador. I rush to the street and limp-wrist a cab (it's a gesture that's hard to explain) and take the 2 minute ride to el aeropuerto. (It's so close to my house in Quito that I can almost see the passengers' faces as they land while I wait for the bus in the mornings.)

I realize when I get inside that I have no idea how the airports work in Ecuador. There are tons of people standing around, no clear lines, no sign of a check-in, and the monitor is saying 'final call' for my flight. Even though I'm nearly two hours early, I start to panic. I somehow find my way to the check-in area and ask someone if I can still make my flight. She says to ask one of the people working the check-in counters.

The first lady I try to ask curtly tells me to find someone who's not busy. Gracias para me ayudas. I look around, see someone whose customers are leaving, and walk up. I have the sneaking suspicion that I'm an end-runner (one of those people on the highway who knows he has to merge, but stays in the ending lane as long as possible before cutting someone off), but I shamelessly give her my passport and flight information.

I'm off to the gate, feeling guilty, but at least on my way. I clear customs and security. Every screen with departure information says 'final call' for my flight. When I arrive at my gate, I rush to the hombre at the counter and ask if there's any chance I can make my flight. He looks at me like I'm estúpida and says, "We haven't started boarding yet." I didn't trust myself to point out to him that the screen behind him said "final call".