When I reached São Paulo, I made it through customs in about five minutes- a strong contrast to the hour or so I waited when I flew here in 2010. I made it to the gates rather quickly. The gate changed twice- once right after I reached my first one, and once right before takeoff. I can't say I am very good at Portuguese, but I am good enough to make sure they know why I am giving tem a blank stare. (Eu não entendo Portugués muito bem.) This helped, and any request for directions was then pointed out on the map I had brought.
I was incredibly relieved to finally reach Fortaleza. To be quite honest, if my butt ever resembled a pancake, it likely did then. I was very pleased with United Airlines, but the seats were economy, and as expected, not comfortable.
I don't know if it is the delirium that follows a near 26 hours of no sleep, or just the excitement of finally making it to your destination, but there is something really magical about that very last descent. It was evening when I arrived, and the sun had set on land, despite being able to see it above the clouds.
Faint outlines of ghostly mountains shifted into view, and I could only hold my breath as millions of lights encrusted the landscape in gold and silver stars. I could see where the land ended, seemingly the dropping off into the edge of a flat world, though I knew it was kissing the waves of the ocean, whose edge bled into a musky skyline of navy. We lowered closer, and the stars became streetlights, and the headlights and taillights of vehicles created pulsing veins of light- a vivacious city filled to the brim with people living their everyday lives, going home to enjoy dinner with their families.
If cameras had been permitted at that point, I would have taken a photo to share.
As of now, I am relaxing in 86 degrees of still, wet air. The fan keeps me comfortable. Later, my host and I will go to greet his mother, and we will go to the store to gather the things I left out of my bags, but will be needing in the upcoming week.
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