¿Bogota?

My head is pounding from too much coffee, too much chocolate, three hours of conversing in Portuguese with gentlemen from Brazil and Uruguay who shared my row on the plane, and of course, the effects of holding back tears and trying to forget a sleepless night of anxiety, gunshots, and a 5 am wakeup call. Are you lost yet?

I'm writing from a tiny booth in the Bogota airport, where internet is fairly cheap and I can waste a little of my seven hour layover thinking about things other than the fact that I know no Spanish, that I'm going to be gone from Brazil for 59 days, that I left my boyfriend at 6:30 am this morning and I won't see him again until December. I don't want to be a sobbing, sleepy mess in a Columbian airport!

Junior wants me to take the toothless picture off the blog, so you have only a couple of days to enjoy it before something more attractive goes up. He has teeth now. They're temporary, but the real ones go in soon. They should, for the price he had to pay for them! His ribs still kill him...we think maybe he cracked something. He'd love your prayers.

I don't know what Peru is going to be like. I am expectationless. But I hear that my host mom is a great cook...and I'm looking forward to seeing how the Lima field became integrated, checking out the drop in center and the work that they do on the streets and how it is similar or different than what we do in Rio. It will be good for me. But I definitely crave your prayers.

My headache isn't subsiding, so I think I'll pass on stories for today. Later...because this too, has been a crazy week!