July 31: How about that ride in?

Stuffed between a middle-aged Panamanian man who seemed to be suffering from the black lung and a grandmother who needed a seat-belt extension in order to meet government safety regulations, I sat. I sat here for a six and a half hour plane ride from Los Angeles to Panama; forced to eat my micro waved Ravioli with my elbows tucked in, piercing my intestines. So I decided to crack open The Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafon, a recommendation by my father, and it hooked me. I zoned out and only heard the sounds of the book—viciously turning to the next page to satiate my yearnings. Before I knew it I was off the plane, transferring to my Lima flight (the second to last plane ride before I arrive in Cusco), finding a seat, and reading again. The story describes a boy’s finding of a rare book—The Shadow of the Wind—in the “Cemetery of Forgotten Books,” a book whose author lived an enigmatic life. The boy, named Daniel Sempere, expresses great interest in solving the mystery behind this author—the creator of the book he first fell in love with. After another three and a half hours, I landed in Lima’s airport, my current location. This is where I will spend the night. I now wait in the food court, my bed is my bag, and I will sleep by the familiar signs of Dunkin’ Donuts, Papa John’s, and McDonald’s—they really do rule the world.