Evidently my bag is in NY at JFK after I spoke with Delta from a phone booth. I asked Delta call center to convey a message to the JFK group to walk the backpack over to LAN and LAN would know what to do.
Meanwhile I am back in the soup. Everything is a major effort. The language and cultural difference makes it so. Basically that means I have to recalibrate my expectations of what I can accomplish. The fact my bag is missing is a frustration to know end. I mean this stuff ain't rocket science. The fact Delta can't tell me exactly where my bag is like Fedex can with a package is ridiculous. Delta should then be able to phone the folks there to see WTF is going on. But agsin, I must lower my expectations. Sri's wife told me before I got on the plane what a great exercise in non-attachment. I thought just having my backpack was enough of an exercise in this. But I guess there is no end in experiencing non attachment until your six feet under!
So I am back at the hotel in Guayaquil. Peanut butter sandwiches and bananas is the food. Tommee met a young lady. Unfortunately she lives in Guayaquil and Guayaquil is no place for a gringo to stay long.
The weather here is warm and semi tropical.
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