#its coordinates will be included when i finally release the route for this road trip

[mediumgayitalian]

prev chapter

———

“Okay,” Will says, when they’re comfortably on the road. This early in the morning, Highway 17 is practically empty; nothing but sunny skies and clear air rushing through the open roof. The emptiness may also be attributed to the fact that it is a random Tuesday. “Pick a number between one and nine.”

“Uh, five.”

“Good choice, good choice.”

He opens the centre console, digging around Nico’s – well, and his, at this point – collection of CDs to find the right one. He makes a little noise of triumph when he finds it, blowing on the back and wiping it on his shirt before sliding it into the port.

“One half-assed polish isn’t gonna fix those scratches, Solace,” he teases.

“If you weren’t such an emo fuck, Playlist Five wouldn’t be so scratched.”

Nico laughs, conceding this round. Will looks inordinately pleased, nose scrunching along with his tiny smile even as Linkin Park starts blasting through the speakers, which he hates.

“Three songs ‘til Britney,” he grouches as Nico starts hollering along to Points of Authority. Nico shakes his head, still grinning – as if he didn’t make these playlists. If he is truly so miserable, he wouldn’t have put the song on at all.

(Nico knows, in the very back of his mind, that Will actually and truly cannot stand Linkin Park. To him, it’s not music at all. He has never been able to get into it, as much as he truly likes music of every genre. If Linkin Park is on this playlist, and they’re on more than one of the playlists Will has made specifically for their shared car rides, it’s because he cares about Nico more than he hates the band. Nico shoves this knowledge deep into the dustiest corners of his mind, because that’s more than he can afford to think about.)

The next couple hours pass by comfortably. There isn’t much to remark on the side of the road except the odd fruit stand, or farm advertising eggs and honey, so onward Nico drives. He keeps an eye on the odometer, but mostly trusts Will’s calculations. If he says they won’t need gas ‘til Anthony, wherever the hell that is, Nico believes him. 

“Highway changes to the 98 through here,” Will says, nodding to the tiny sign that boasts nothing except Ft. Meade CITY LIMITS, right next to the giant banner half the size of the church it's attached to that reads, REPENT OR BURN. 

Ah, Florida. Please one day change.

“Do I need to exit?”

“Nope, the road just changes to a different number.”

He eases off the gas as they approach the tiny town, watching carefully for state troopers. And, like, children, probably. So far he’s passed twelve gun ranges and one school, but whatever. He can have priorities, even if this garbage state doesn’t.

“Hm. 98 is a better number.”

“Absolutely not,” Will tells him, aghast. “17 is a prime number!”

“Ninety-eight is more fun to say. Also, prime numbers suck.”

“You take that back –”

Nico slides up his sunglasses, shaking his head fondly. Nerdiest nerd to ever nerd. He would be embarrassed if he wasn’t so endeared.

He presses back on the accelerator as they exit the town, turning up the music as Will’s rant ends. He shucks off his shoes – Feet off my goddamn dash, Solace – and curls up into his seat, burying himself in a book. Nico glances away from the road to try and read the title, but quickly gives up since the font is bright fucking purple, for some reason, and in some horrible looping shape that he knows will give him a migraine. All graphic designers should be in prison. 

“Hey, there’s apparently a gator reserve forty-five minutes ahead.” Nico squints again at the book. Barely, he can make out “roadside” and “weird”. “‘Weird American Roadside Attractions’,” Will reads aloud, noticing Nico looking. “Such as a very nice and highly rated gator reserve –”

“No.”

“Road trip, Nico. Adventure.”

“I’m super happy to adventure away from living fucking dinosaurs, Solace.”

“Aw, come on, they’re kinda cute –”

“Two thousand pounds per square inch of jaw strength! You are the one who told me that!”

“You don’t think you could take one in a fight?”

Nico stares at his best friend incredulously. He’s got a thoughtful little frown on his face, looking at the sky as he contemplates. Nico notices, vaguely, that the shade of his irises is the exact same colour. 

“No, I do not. Obviously.” He pauses. “You think you could take a fuckin’ gator?”

“I think it’s possible.”

“See, that’s crazy, because fifteen seconds ago I genuinely believed you were an intelligent person.”

“Do not lie to me and tell me you don’t have a list of animals you know you could take in a fight,” Will says, instead of rising to the bait. He waits, meeting Nico’s glare, eyebrows raised.

“An ostrich,” Nico admits, begrudgingly. “I feel like – one good punch to the throat –”

Will smiles smugly at him. “That’s what I thought.” He turns back to his book, fiddling with the corner of a page. “Also, ostriches are more closely related to dinosaurs than alligators. So. Check and mate, motherfucker.”

They pull into Anthony at around eleven, at pretty much exactly a quarter tank – just like Will predicted. He looks inordinately pleased about it, so Nico shoots off a quick prayer to the karma gods. 

He trips on his way out of the Jeep. Nico smirks.

“I’m gonna go stretch my legs,” he says, unaware of Nico’s hand in his humbling. Nico waves him off, attention turned to the gas pump.

Annoyingly, as he pulls out his card and handles the pump, he remembers Will’s scrunched nose and pursed lips as he’d explained, when they were 16, how gas station pumps were frequently more germy than their toilets, and cleaned approximately one hundred percent less. Suddenly, his hand begins to feel grimey.

Twelve bags of chips, a gas station slushie, and a pair of clean hands later, Will is still nowhere to be found. Nico frowns, craning his neck to look around the tiny parking lot as if he somehow missed Will’s neon orange shirt the first time he looked. Still not catching sight of him, he walks hesitantly back to the Jeep, tucking his snacks away and biting his lip, contemplating. Will is both very fast and very easily distracted, but he has enough sense not to go too far in a random town five hours from home. If he sticks by the car and waits, Will’ll be back soon. 

But, on the other hand, waiting is torture.

Easy decision, really.

He locks the door, hopes that no one will show up with a pair of wire cutters and a flathead screw driver, and sets off. The first thing he notices, and he adds it to his mental list of things to loudly complain about when Will is locked in the car with him, is that it is fucking sweltering. In the hours approaching the afternoon, the day has gone to pleasantly warm to so hot the air is actually thick with it, and he doesn’t have wind ripping through the open windows to cool him down. Plus, he’s wearing jeans, and for the first, and hopefully only, time in his life, he envies his friend’s cargo shorts. 

The second thing he notices is that Anthony, Florida, is empty as shit. All the love in his heart to the people who call it home, but also, move, maybe. He’s hesitant to stray too far from the gas station, in case Will comes back and finds him gone, but there are no hills or anything. He can see quite far down the road. The only thing he sees is a possum starting a fight with a poor random guy – which, actually, is kind of fun to watch. 

Perhaps he has judged Anthony too harshly. 

“Nico!” shouts a voice, startling him. He whips around and finds Will, standing in the goddamn centre of the road, the dumbass, waving like a lunatic.

“There is no possible way I was going to miss you,” Nico informs him when he’s close enough. “You are approximately the height of the Washington monument. I could not miss you if I tried.”

“I wasn’t waving to get your attention, I was waving to shoo away the eagles that mistook you for a mouse.”

Nico kicks him in the shin. Will, well used to his violence, dodges, grinning, except in the act of hopping away from Nico’s dangerously hardy boots, he somehow wraps his foot around his own ankle and goes sprawling.

Nico smirks. “Who’s the short one now.”

Faster than he can even follow, Will’s hand darts out, wrapping around his ankle, and tugs, yanking him yelping on the asphalt next to him. 

“Foul!”

“All’s fair in love and war, Neeks.”

Shut the fuck up shut the fuck up shut the fuck up, Nico screams at the alarm bells blaring in his brain, he doesn’t mean it like that and you know it oh shit he’s looking this way quick look normal look normal –

“I can do war if that’s what you want, Solace,” he manages, honestly quite proud of himself for managing speech with approximately fourteen percent of his brain still functioning. Damn.

“Yeah, yeah. Anyway.” He crawls to his feet, offering Nico a hand. He takes it, dutifully fighting the urge to pull Will down again, just to be an asshole. He’s cool like that, and most definitely being normal about the scrape of Will’s callused fingers against the inside of his forearm. “I found maybe the funniest thing I’ve ever seen, and I need you to come look at it immediately.”

“Sick,” Nico says, immediately intrigued. He and Will have their differences, sure, but if there’s one thing they can agree on it’s their sense of humour. 

He follows will down the road, passing the gas station again. (His car, thankfully, remains in one piece and beautifully not-robbed.) They dark across an empty intersection, walking across a yellowed lawn as they approach a run-down, patchy, one-storey bungalow with a rusted sign that reads: The Iron Works.

“Behold,” says Will gleefully, “the Abstract Iron Centaur.”

And behold, Nico does.

Gaping, he observes the structure standing proudly under the sign. Striding proudly, rather, its front legs bent to simulate movement, its human arms poised as if ready to strike. It wears a medieval knight’s helmet, and holds a rusted axe. The entire structure is a little taller than Will, and made of, presumably, iron, rusted into a light roan red.

“Abstract Iron Centaur,” Nico repeats, after several minutes of silence.

Will still looks delighted. “It was in my book. I had no idea what to expect and also I didn’t believe it was real. Isn’t it the greatest thing you’ve ever seen?”

“It’s…something.”

“We gotta take a picture, Neeks. I never want to forget this thing.”

Nico allows himself to be pulled, still somewhat bewildered. It’s not even the oddest thing he’s ever seen, it’s just – he has many questions, like, for example, why? How long has this creature existed? How long will it persist? Who created it? Why is it in Will’s dorky book? Does it house a soul?

“Okay, squish in, this camera is older than your elderly ass and doesn’t have a timer.”

The familiar jab breaks him out of his stupor. “Seven months older than you, fucker.”

“Geriatric.”

Without warning, Will crowds them under the Abstract Iron Centaur’s lifted arm, and then presses his widely grinning cheek right flush to Nico’s, raising his beat-up camera to the air.

Nico’s brain goes static.

“Say cheese!”

“Hnngh,” says Nico, as the camera blinds him.

Luckily for his continuously worsening blood pressure, Will pulls away the second he hears the click, shaking the ejected negative to help it develop, and Nico has a second to remind his lungs that they have a function, actually, get your shit together, I am not dying in fucking Anthony, Florida. 

“You look like a dork!” Will says, delighted. “Look!”

Blinking at the photo shoved one sixteenth of an inch from his eyeballs, Nico indeed looks. The Abstract Iron Centaur looks more foreboding on camera, somehow, but Nico barely notices it – instead, he finds his gaze drawn to the beam so wide it forces Will’s eyes shut, and the dazed, dopey look on his own face; eyes wide, mouth dropped, slightly, and posture undeniably leaning into Will’s magnetism. 

Humming to himself, Will slips his wallet out of (one of) the (many) pocket(s) of his shorts, tucking the photo inside it. Nico melts into a puddle of goo on the dead grass. His mortal soul escapes his body, descending rapidly. His atoms return to star dust. Et cetera.

“Oh, shit, we gotta go if we want to reach Georgia in good time.”

“Right,” says Nico, voice cracking. He clears his throat and tries again. “Let’s go.”

He absolutely does not haul ass to his car. He walks at a normal pace, for normal reasons, thoughts in a normal place. 

“Back on the 75,” Will instructs as they peel out, sliding sunglasses on his nose. “We gotta scoot around town a bit to get to the entrance, but it won’t take long.”

“D’you know this place?” Nico asks, even though he doubts it. As far as he knows, Will was outside of Sarasota one time: in the move from Austin. He supposes his mother might have had a concert up here, or something, and unusually, let him tag along, but he doubts it.

“Nah, just memorised the map.”

Nico hides a smile. “Oh, of course.”

It’s all too easy to tease Will, but there was a reason he was valedictorian. There’s a reason for his many shining scholarship offers, his endless well of ridiculous facts pulled from nowhere. He is, genuinely, the smartest person Nico has ever met.

Even if he genuinely believes he can fight an alligator and win.

“Two hours ‘til we cross state lines,” Will says brightly, shouting slightly over the wind as they merge onto the highway. “And then on to infinity!”

“Onto infinity,” Nico agrees, matching his smile. 

Already, he’s proved Nico wrong. They’re farther now than Will has been since he was seven, and there’s nothing in his expression that suggests he wants to slow down. 

Privately, and quietly, Nico lets himself start to hope. 

———

next chapter

#Abstract Iron Centaur is real btw #its coordinates will be included when i finally release the route for this road trip #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #nico di angelo #will solace #will/nico #nico/will #nico di angelo/will solace #solangelo #slowburn #modern au #roadtrip au #pining nico di angelo #pining will solace #mutual pining #will solace angst #or a tease of it anyway #nico di angelo angst #will solace is a huge big nerd #nico di angelo is a whipped loser #anyways #fic #my writing #longpost

[advicearcher92-blog]

NELA Livable Streets Roundup – June 2018

Pic of the month: Arguably the best protected bike lane in all of Los Angeles can now be found on South Figueroa Street in Downtown LA.

As we hit the halfway mark in the year, several modest livability improvements surfaced seemingly out of nowhere. Is it coincidence or a sign of growing momentum?

Alhambra Avenue Safety Road Diet Completed

The biggest news this month is NELA livability has to be the completion traffic safety improvements made to Alhambra Avenue between Lowell Avenue and Brawley Street (1.25 miles) in El Sereno. (We hope to do a more detailed post about this project in the coming days). For those not familiar with the project, the package of improvements include:

Traffic signal, crosswalk, and curb extension at Lowell Avenue

Flashing crosswalk at Hollister Avenue

Upgrading all existing crosswalks to high visibility markings

Bike lanes

Dedicated center turn lane

Speed feedback sign

New sidewalk next to El Sereno Arroyo Park

What remains most fascinating about this particular project is the urgency and smart coordination with which it was implemented. The first in a series of community meetings for the project was hosted in March 2017. Just over a year later, the project was completed in tandem with routine street resurfacing, which means the bike lanes, crosswalk upgrades, and center turn lane all were achieved for free since the street gets re-striped when it is resurfaced anyway.

“My Figueroa” (Partially) Protected Bike Lanes A Reality

In Downtown LA the most high-profile bike lane project that has been in the works for roughly a decade is finally (mostly) completed. Although there are continuity gaps, there are now bike lanes along Figueroa between 7th Street and Exposition Boulevard by USC, part of a project known as “My Figueroa.” The design is far from perfect but was a huge undertaking and will finally provide safer accommodation for people walking and biking along the Figueroa corridor. In contrast to the Alhambra Avenue project, My Figueroa has dragged its feet and cost over $1 million per mile. Our view is that we should focus more on the cheap, nimble Alhambra Avenue type projects that can be implemented at a rate of 10 to 1. Yes, the gold-plated My Figueroa is a nice addition, but at what cost? There are hundreds of miles of streets that need safety improvements and the only way such can be realized is through swift implementation of re-painting streets.

Hollywood and Vine Pedestrian Scramble “Coming Soon”

The Militant Angeleno tweeted a sign that a pedestrian scramble crossing is coming soon to the intersection of Hollywood Boulevard and Vine Street. Seeing as a similar scramble has successfully cut the number of crashes at nearby Hollywood Boulevard and Highland Avenue, this improvement seems to be a no-brainer for a street filled with foot traffic as Hollywood Boulevard. Let’s hope the scramble is celebrated with the red-carpet treatment once it finally arrives and improves safety.

Avenue 26 and Humboldt Street Traffic Signal

Traffic signals are a costly measure that only really work to slow people down when the light turns red. When the light is green, speeding will still be an issue. So it is with mixed feelings that we celebrate the coming of a traffic signal to the intersection of Avenue 26 and Humboldt Street. And of course, it only came after someone died attempting to cross Avenue 26. What Avenue 26 would really benefit from is an Alhambra Avenue style road diet to tame traffic. The redeeming benefit of this particular signal is that it facilitates crossing at a small neighborhood hub– there are bus stops, street vendors, a recurring street sale and a few businesses centered around here. The signal also makes Humboldt safer to travel along as a bicyclist. Humboldt is an informal bike route used alongside a series of other minor streets to go between NELA and DTLA while avoiding freeway ramps and the madness at North Figueroa Street.

Could E-Scooters and Dockless Bikes Be Coming to Eagle Rock?

(Ofo Dockless Bike-Share and Bird E-Scooter sightings in Eagle Rock. Bird picture via Eagle Rock Facebook Group)

On a local Eagle Rock facebook group, residents recently debated the merits of bringing dockless e-scooters such as Bird to the neighborhood. Shortly after the discussion, a couple residents shared that they had signed up to serve as “nests” (households that charge e-scooters when they run out of battery) and a handful of e-scooters were even sighted outside of Swork Coffee. Around the same time, the yellow dockless bikes from company Ofo appeared near the intersection of Colorado Boulevard and Townsend Avenue. Would an abundance of publicly accessible rental bikes and scooters help locals ditch the car for neighborhood trips? There’s only one way to find out, and maybe Eagle Rockers will get a chance to test it out. If proven successful, maybe “Bird” scooters should be re-branded as “Eagles”?

Political Courage For Livable Street on Local and State Level

The Eagle Rock Neighborhood Council (ERNC) scheduled for their July 5th meeting an agenda item to follow up on an earlier request for safety improvements on Yosemite Drive. Also on the agenda is a motion to support The Eagle Rock Association’s (TERA) Rock The Boulevard grant application.

The City Council released the list of transportation projects that will seek State-level funding to implement. Included on the list are NELA projects:

Rock The Boulevard/ Eagle Rock Boulevard protected bike lanes

Eastern Avenue pedestrian improvements in El Sereno

After getting some negative publicity regarding faded markings on a bike route in East LA, County Supervisor Hilda Solis – a longtime champion for walking and biking – announced:

I am committed to installing, expanding, and maintaining high-quality and safe bike lanes where appropriate. Currently, our neighborhood streets in East Los Angeles are under construction with roadway improvements that include maintenance and new bike routes that improve safety for all commuters. These enhancements include smoother riding surfaces and clear sustainable markings. When complete, I’m excited to see even more East LA residents take advantage of these new bike paths!

Meanwhile, on the State level, Assemblymember Laura Friedman, representing our neighbors in Glendale and Atwater area, discussed how lower speed limits can improve safety. Around the corner from Glendale, NELA’s very own assemblymember, Wendy Carrillo, announced that the LA State Historic Park will receive $500,000 to develop a plan to provide safe access to the park.

Livability in Pasadena and Beyond

Fresh bike path markings along the Arroyo Seco Bike Path

Mission Street Sharrows in South Pasadena: Mission Street in South Pasadena is a pleasant bicycle street lined with local shops and minimal traffic. The far west and far east ends of the corridor have bike lanes but the bulk of the corridor has nothing. The City recently installed “sharrows,” street markings reminding drivers to expect bicyclists. Like Avenue 26, what is really needed on Mission is a road diet, but sharrows are a step in the right direction.

Pasadena Traist Sunday Service Returns: After a 10 year absence, Sunday service has returned to Routes 10, 20, 31/32, 40 and 51 from 8 a.m. to 5 p.m.

NELA’s Not-Yet-Built Taylor Yard Bike Bridge Up for Design Award: Once built, the Taylor Yard Bike and Pedestrian Bridge will connect communities to the Rio de Los Angeles Park and LA River. However, the bridge has already been nominated for a design award. One should be weary of such awards because the final product may not look like the rendering, but if it does NELA will have a beautiful, award winning bridge design!

Cellphone Service Coming to Gold Line Stations: Metro announced: “Cell service… in the Gold Line’s underground stations in Pasadena and East Los Angeles is scheduled to become available towards the end of [2018].”

Arroyo Seco Bike Path Re-Striped: In mid-June the edge markings and center line striping on the Arroyo Seco bike path were refreshed after what appeared to be decades of neglect.

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Source: https://walkeaglerock.wordpress.com/2018/07/04/nela-livable-streets-roundup-june-2018/

#read more #see more #check it out #interesting #learn more

[kansascityhappenings]

Trump denies Pelosi military aircraft for trip to Afghanistan war zone

https://embed-prod.vemba.io/vemba-embed.js

WASHINGTON — President Donald Trump said Thursday he was denying House Speaker Nancy Pelosi a military plane for a trip to Afghanistan and other countries that was set to begin in the afternoon, a tit-for-tat retaliation that deepened the divide between the leaders and brought the government no closer to reopening.

The move, apparently in response to Pelosi’s letter a day earlier suggesting the President reschedule his State of the Union address, made for high drama but little substance in the ongoing back-and-forth over border security.

As the partial government shutdown stretches nearly a month, the back-and-forth reflects a West Wing angling for the upper hand in a standoff with newly powerful Democrats.

Pelosi had been scheduled to leave within the hour that Trump’s letter was made public, making for the awkward site of a large blue Air Force bus idling outside the Capitol as the implications of the President’s missive came into focus.

The administration “worked with the Air Force and (the Defense Department) and basically took away the rights to the plane from the speaker,” one White House official said.

The White House released Trump’s letter to Pelosi a day after she suggested the President postpone his planned State of the Union address, scheduled for later this month, until the government shutdown is resolved.

“Due to the Shutdown, I am sorry to inform you that your trip to Brussels, Egypt, and Afghanistan has been postponed,” Trump wrote Pelosi on Thursday. “We will reschedule this seven-day excursion when the Shutdown is over.”

Even though Afghanistan — an active US combat zone — was one of the countries on her planned itinerary, Trump suggested she fly commercial.

“Obviously, if you would like to make your journey by flying commercial, that would certainly be your prerogative,” Trump wrote.

The President of the United States has the authority to direct the Defense Department to not use military assets to support a congressional delegation to military theaters. This support includes air transport and additional security procedures.

US President Donald Trump speaks to the media as he departs the White House in Washington, DC, on January 14, 2019 en route to New Orleans, Louisiana to address the annual American Farm Bureau Federation convention. (Photo by JIM WATSON/AFP/Getty Images)

Trump’s penned retort amounted to his first public response to Pelosi’s Wednesday letter in which she wrote: “I suggest that we work together to determine another suitable date after the government has re-opened for this address or for you to consider delivering your State of the Union address in writing to the Congress on January 29.”

A Pelosi spokesman responded to Trump’s letter pointing out the President’s own shutdown trip to Iraq as well as one by Republican lawmakers.

“The purpose of the trip was to express appreciation & thanks to our men & women in uniform for their service & dedication, & to obtain critical national security & intelligence briefings from those on the front lines,” Pelosi spokesman Drew Hammill tweeted.

He also clarified her travel plans, which he said did not include a stop in Egypt, but did have a planned refueling stop in Brussels.

SOTU impasse

Trump and his aides — loathe to abandon a key evening of presidential messaging yet intrigued by a new opening to break tradition — have yet to strike on a path forward for the speech. Trump’s letter to Pelosi did not address the scheduling of his address to Congress. And it did not offer any new incentives to return to negotiations on reopening closed-down agencies.

Just as Pelosi pointed to security officials working without pay as a reason to delay his State of the Union address, Trump said he was postponing Pelosi’s trip “in light of the 800,000 great American workers not receiving pay.”

Trump also used the letter to jab at some of the time Pelosi has spent outside of Washington during the shutdown, saying that “it would be better if you were in Washington negotiating with me and joining the Strong Border Security movement to end the Shutdown.”

Trump has expressed confusion at why his attempts to pressure Democrats for border wall funding have yielded no progress. Meanwhile, some of his advisers worry the mounting consequences for unpaid federal workers could further erode support for Trump’s cause.

The State of the Union address, initially scheduled for January 29, was viewed as a potential turning point. One White House official said the administration had begun putting together a list of potential invited guests in the first lady’s box, including some “angel families” of people killed by undocumented immigrants.

Those plans were thrown into flux on Wednesday when Pelosi wrote Trump, citing concerns over security during the shutdown, which has forced Secret Service employees to work without pay.

Upon receiving the letter, White House aides were unsure of how to proceed, people familiar with the matter said. The White House is weighing alternatives for the venue and style of Trump’s State of the Union, but doesn’t appear to have settled on a plan just yet, the people said.

GOP Rep. Mark Meadows, a close ally of the President’s who is in frequent touch with the White House, said Thursday he believed Trump will deliver the speech outside the House Chamber.

U.S. Speaker of the House Rep. Nancy Pelosi (D-CA) arrives at a news conference at the U.S. Capitol on January 4, 2019 in Washington, DC. (Photo by Alex Wong/Getty Images)

“I think he’ll give the State of the Union somewhere else, and Nancy’s politics will come back to bite her,” he said.

Trump himself viewed Pelosi’s the letter as a political stunt, according to a person who discussed it with him. He did not raise it during a lunch meeting with lawmakers on Wednesday, and did not appear overly incensed by the move.

Some inside the West Wing have viewed Pelosi’s letter as an opportunity to finally break the traditional State of the Union mold — something previous White Houses have mulled but ultimately decided against. Others, however, are not in favor of a nontraditional State of the Union. And most believe they need more clarity from Pelosi before proceeding.

One Trump adviser told CNN’s Jim Acosta part of the betting around the deliberations is that Pelosi will “fold” and allow Trump to deliver his speech in the House of Representatives. The adviser described the battle between Trump and Pelosi as “King Kong versus Godzilla.”

Optics

Some advisers have pushed Trump to deliver the annual address from the Oval Office in order to continue projecting the message that he is sitting in the White House, waiting for Democrats to make a deal. That’s an argument the President has repeatedly pressed over the past weeks to little avail.

However, a prime-time address delivered from the Oval Office earlier this month fell flat, a memory that could deter the President from selecting the audience-less venue for an annual tradition he actually likes to observe.

Trump told people last week he disliked the address to the nation he delivered from the Oval Office, which he believed looked and sounded flat and lifeless. He told a group of TV anchors ahead of the speech he was unconvinced that it would change any minds, but allowed some of his advisers to talk him into it.

Before the speech he spent a long while — more than is typical for a President, according to a person familiar with the setup — with aides adjusting the camera framing and lighting so that it met his specifications.

Watching clips afterward, Trump was even more convinced it was a useless exercise. One person who was with him says he grimaced when he saw a clip on television, believing it looked stilted and robotic. He said he doubted it was worth the trouble. And polls seemed to prove him right — a Quinnipiac University survey this week showed only 2% of respondents’ minds were changed about the border wall by the speech.

“Nobody wins in a shutdown. Nobody does. A lot of Americans are hurt because of it,” said Marc Short, Trump’s former White House legislative affairs director and a CNN political commentator. “I do think that Democrats also risk the reality of when this is over, will Americans look at this and say there is one side pushing border security and one side wasn’t?”

Alternative plans

White House aides had already begun working on writing the State of the Union address, and had hoped to use it as an opportunity to hammer home the President’s warning of an immigration crisis from the loudest megaphone he has.

With an address in the House Chamber thrown into question, some have suggested to the White House that Trump simply deliver the State of the Union speech from the Senate chamber instead, because the Republican-controlled upper body could invite the President rather than the Democratic-controlled House.

But as of Thursday there were no plans among Senate Republicans to invite the President to speak. And doing so would still require a 60-vote majority among senators, meaning some Democrats would have to come on board. A senior Republican congressional aide said the White House has not yet given guidance on any changes to its plan for the State of the Union.

The White House is also considering doing a rally-style State of the Union, which would be coordinated through Trump’s campaign, a person familiar with the matter said. The idea is still preliminary, however, and formal plans have not been laid.

Many in Washington view the traditional State of the Union — delivered in the House Chamber — as a tired exercise. Aides to former President Barack Obama also considered taking the yearly speech on the road or delivering it in an alternative venue, though decided against it in the end.

Trump, however, has seen the speech as bolstering his presidential standing. He gained relatively positive reviews for his first two addresses to Congress, and enjoyed the applause that Republican lawmakers provided during his speeches.

For that reason, top aides are not moving forward with making firm alternative plans until they can gain some clarity from Pelosi about whether she has actually disinvited Trump from delivering the address.

As of Thursday morning it did not appear the two sides had spoken — Pelosi said she’d received “no response” from the White House to her letter. During her weekly news conference, she denied she was attempting to withhold from Trump a high-profile venue to address Americans.

“I’m not denying him a platform at all,” Pelosi said. “I’m saying, ‘let’s get a date when government is open.’ “

from FOX 4 Kansas City WDAF-TV | News, Weather, Sports https://fox4kc.com/2019/01/17/trump-denies-pelosi-military-aircraft-for-trip-to-afghanistan-war-zone/

from Kansas City Happenings https://kansascityhappenings.wordpress.com/2019/01/17/trump-denies-pelosi-military-aircraft-for-trip-to-afghanistan-war-zone/

[newstfionline]

Reporting from Yemen

Iona Craig won a Polk Award for her investigation of a SEAL team raid that killed women and children in Yemen. Here’s how she did it.

Peter Maass, The Intercept, February 24 2018

A little more than a year ago, on January 29, 2017, Iona Craig was at the tail end of a month-long reporting trip to Yemen. On that day, special operators from the U.S. Navy’s SEAL Team 6 launched a surprise raid in a remote part of Yemen, apparently trying to capture or kill an Al Qaeda leader. This was the first covert assault of the Trump era, and the White House, which was not challenged in the U.S. media, hailed it as “highly successful.”

Except it wasn’t.

Craig, who was based in Yemen from 2010-2015 and had continued to make reporting trips to the country since a civil war broke out, quickly learned from local media that the raid killed civilians. As she began planning for an arduous and risky journey to the site of the assault, local sheikhs she knew from her previous work in the country told her that the U.S. was getting the story wrong. A large number of women and children had been killed, and the targeted village did not appear to have had a standing Al Qaeda presence.

But these accounts were just words that had yet to be confirmed. Craig had to go there to find out first-hand.

Craig was in Yemen to report a story for Harper’s Magazine about suicide bombers, and she had received a travel grant from the Pulitzer Center on Crisis Reporting. Once the raid happened, she got in touch with The Intercept--she is a regular contributor--which gave her the financial backing to extend her stay and work on this new story. Earlier this week, the story, which was published by The Intercept last March, won the 2018 Polk Award for Foreign Reporting, the most prestigious U.S. honor for excellence in international journalism after the Pulitzer Prize.

What follows is a description of how Craig reported the story, which was both a major expose that revealed the Trump administration lied about its first major military engagement, and an epic 1,000-mile journey through desolate parts of Yemen, where Craig and her Yemeni companions faced lethal risks. She was not only the first foreign journalist to report from al Ghayil, she remains the only one to have done so. It is a demonstration of how independent journalists are able to uncover important truths missed by traditional reporters who rely too heavily on official accounts coming from Washington.

In ordinary times, the car journey from Aden to al Ghayil, where the raid occurred, would have taken eight hours and been relatively simple. But the war in Yemen, which has spiraled into an international conflict pitting Houthi rebels against a Saudi-U.S. bombing campaign, has divided the country into no-go zones controlled by one side or the other. The direct route to al Ghayil would have crossed contested frontlines and veered into territories controlled by Houthis and other forces that are especially hostile to Western reporters. It would almost certainly have ended with Craig’s arrest, and probably worse for the Yemenis she would travel with.

The best option, Craig decided, was to take a ridiculously roundabout four-day route that kept her within territory controlled by the government and the Saudi-U.S. coalition, but still entailed potential encounters with Al Qaeda and Islamic State forces. In the risk assessment forms she provided to The Intercept before setting off, Craig described the potential hazards as “Detention and/or kidnap. IEDs, small arms fire, air strikes.” She assessed the likelihood of those hazards occurring as “medium to high.” Trained in first aid, she would be traveling with a full medical kit to treat injuries that she or her Yemeni traveling partners might incur. She provided The Intercept with proof-of-life information that could be used in the event she was kidnapped.

She could not travel openly as a Westerner. As Craig explained in a lengthy interview published last year by Poynter, for the entire journey she dressed as a Yemeni woman in an all-black abiya and niqab. Her camouflage included black gloves, so that the pale skin on her hands would not give her away. She also wore brown-tinted contact lenses to cover her green eyes. Though she was able to camouflage herself, the ruse was not foolproof, and if the wrong people recognized her, the consequences could be dire.

First, Craig made a 350-mile journey along the coast from Aden to Mukalla on a public bus (which ran out of fuel en route), a trip that took 10 hours. Then, after staying overnight in Mukalla, she and a Yemeni friend drove off before dawn for Bin Aifan, which was five hours away (they took the precaution of packing Jerry cans filled with extra fuel). In Bin Aifan, she joined another Yemeni friend who would serve as her translator, driver, and companion for the rest of the journey to al Ghayil.

She and this friend drove west for 230 miles over flat desert to Marib. Once there, her camouflage took on an added element--she was now posing as the wife of her friend, because they would need to stay in a hotel in Marib. If Craig registered under her own name, local security officials would be notified. Yemeni women cannot stay in hotels with a man who is not their husband or a family member--so Craig’s companion became her husband, and she his wife, at least as far as the hotel staff were concerned.

Once in Marib, she checked with senior sheikhs in the village where the raid took place and asked for permission to visit them the next day; their agreement would constitute a guarantee of safety while she was with them. They agreed but told her to wait a day. This was a bit inconvenient, because Craig did not want to be found out; on her undesired layover in Marib, she had to be careful to not speak English in public and did her best to avoid speaking Arabic anywhere, lest her accent give her away.

Some of the territory ahead of her was controlled by Al Qaeda in the Arabian Peninsula. Craig had negotiated travel access with the group for previous stories, so she did that again, in the manner that had proved wisest: She informed her Al Qaeda contacts of where she wanted to travel, but not when, how, or even if she would go. In the event Al Qaeda forces found her, someone along their chain of command would know that she wasn’t trying to sneak into their territory without authorization.

Craig established a careful security protocol for the final leg of the trip to al Ghayil. Every hour, she checked in via cellphone or satellite phone with two Yemeni contacts, one of whom ran a small security firm. Those contacts were in touch with The Intercept. If Craig missed a check-in, her Yemeni contacts would immediately get in touch with The Intercept and everyone would scramble to find her.

Her travel was complicated by the fact that, until she finally reached al Ghayil with a driver sent by a local sheikh, she didn’t know the village’s exact location. The raid had been widely reported as taking place in “Yakla,” yet that refers to a wider district, not a village. Once she reached al Ghayil, Craig used her satellite phone to map her GPS coordinates. This proved crucial for, among other things, finding satellite imagery that showed the village, whose location the U.S. military knew but had not shared with the public.

AT 5:30 in the morning on February 9, 2017, Craig left Marib with her Yemeni “husband” and two local activists. They traveled in an SUV because of the difficult off-road conditions. The journey was expected to take three hours, but it took more than twice that, partly because a rock hit the undercarriage of their SUV and burst its oil line. They were about an hour away from al Ghayil at that point and far from any cell phone towers, so Craig used her satellite phone to call a local sheikh who sent someone to fetch them. They waited in the shade of bushes on the side of a river bed for an hour, facing mountain ridges controlled by Al Qaeda and Islamic State fighters, until a pickup truck arrived with 30 bullet holes in its windshield--from the SEAL Team 6 raid, Craig was told.

One of the least-appreciated dangers of working in war zones is the seemingly mundane possibility of car accidents. Roads tend to be in particularly terrible shape due to disuse or overuse and lack of maintenance, and the vehicles correspondents travel in are generally not well maintained, because little is well-maintained in wartime except the machines of war. Travel is often rushed to avoid being on the roads after nightfall, when dangers multiply. If there is an accident, medical attention is usually far away. Craig’s ride in the truck with 30 bullet holes was particularly perilous, winding through rocky gorges on what was little more than a donkey track, with a reckless local driver who nearly collided head-on with a camel stuck in a gorse bush.

Once in al Ghayil, Craig met with more than a dozen survivors and witnesses. Adults were interviewed separately to capture each individual’s account rather than a collective memory of what happened. She also toured buildings that had been bombed and shot during the raid, and she took pictures. She only had three and a half hours in the village before she had to leave for Marib in the hope of returning there before dark. Staying overnight in al Ghayil was out of the question because the area was unstable and word could filter out to the wrong people that a Western journalist was poking around.

Even though darkness was catching up with Craig long before she reached Marib, she made a detour to a hospital where she hoped to interview survivors of the attack. As it turned out, they had already been released. Craig and her Yemeni partners arrived back in Marib well after midnight. The journey from Marib to al Ghayil and back had taken 22 hours, including 14 hours of off-road driving through mountains and dry riverbeds.

Craig’s story destroyed the Trump narrative of an effective raid that, despite the death of a Navy SEAL, resulted in an important capture of intelligence information. This narrative had been repeated by major media outlets, which had not taken the time and effort to investigate, on the ground, what really happened. Craig learned from the eyewitnesses she interviewed that U.S. forces had tried to storm al Ghayil but had come under fire from villagers who thought Houthi forces were attacking. The U.S. troops called in air support.

“In what seemed to be a blind panic, the gunships bombarded the entire village, striking more than a dozen buildings, razing stone dwellings where families slept,” Craig reported. At least six women were killed, as were 10 children under the age of 13. “The first to die in the assault was 13-year old Nasser al Dhahab,” Craig wrote. Her account continued:

Nesma al Ameri, an elderly village matriarch who lost four family members in the raid, described how the attack helicopters began firing down on anything that moved. As she recounted the horror of what happened, Sinan tapped her on the arm. “No, no. The bullets were coming from behind,” the 5-year-old insisted, interrupting to demonstrate how he was shot at and his mother gunned down as they ran for their lives. “From here to here,” Sinan said, putting two fingers to the back of his head and drawing an invisible line to illustrate the direction of the bullet exiting her forehead. His mother fell to the ground next to him, still clutching his baby brother in her arms. Sinan kept running.

As a consequence of Craig’s story, the American Civil Liberties Union filed a Freedom of Information Act request with the CIA and the Departments of Defense, Justice, and State. The ACLU is now suing the Trump administration to enforce that request, which asked for records including the legal basis and decision-making process used for the raid, as well as assessments of civilian deaths.

After the Polk Award was announced, Jeremy Scahill, a co-founding editor of The Intercept, noted that Craig’s work was unique.

“The war in Yemen--with its unspeakably catastrophic human toll--has been a scandalously under-reported story,” Scahill said. “No Western journalist has done more to document the human consequences of U.S. drone strikes and raids in Yemen than Iona Craig. She is a rare combination of fierce, brave, empathetic, and brilliant. She is also incredibly generous to reporters new to covering Yemen. Iona’s reporting always puts front and center the stories of people who have no voice in the U.S. and British media despite the crucial roles both countries have played in the collective punishment of the entire nation of Yemen. The only side she takes is that of truth. Giving Iona the George Polk Award is a great tribute to the life and legacy of the reporter for whom the prize is named.”

Craig, in comments to The Intercept, gave credit to, among others, the Yemenis who helped arrange her journey and travelled with her. They cannot be named for the sake of their own security, because coalition forces, including ones on the ground from the United Arab Emirates, do not look favorably on her work. Political opponents and others who are critical of their role in the country have been victims of enforced disappearance.

“For me, the real importance is that such a prestigious prize gives recognition to the voices of the civilian victims that are so often drowned out by powerful government institutions thousands of miles away,” Craig said. “Official accounts will always go unchallenged in the absence of any other evidence, and Yemen isn’t always the easiest place to gather that evidence. The current conflict makes it an even greater challenge. There were calculated risks involved in getting the story. But it was worth it and receiving such an award hopefully means greater awareness of not only what happened that night back in January 2017 and in the months after, but also of the consequences of such military operations for both the U.S. and locally for Yemenis. Although there’s only one byline on the story, I’m in a very fortunate position to have a small but extremely important team of Yemenis who go out of their way (quite literally by many hundreds of miles in the case of this story) to keep me safe and to make this kind of reporting possible. This investigation, the recognition for it, is very much down to them and the people of al Ghayil who so warmly welcomed a stranger into their village in the days after the raid.”

Some of the villagers Craig met on her visit to Al Ghayil were killed weeks later when U.S. aircraft returned to repeatedly bomb and strafe the village over four consecutive nights.

#Yemen #Yemen raid #Iona Craig #Al Ghayil

[jch0w-travels]

INTRO TO COSTA RICA + TRAVEL WARNINGS!

Note: To skip my intro and travel warnings, jump to my next post for a full recap of my trip to Costa Rica.

Pura Vida! Life has been so good to me this past year. Despite our current [horrifying] political climate in the U.S. and a few unexpected learning experiences, I have to say that I feel very lucky to close 2017 with good health, a loving family, beautiful friends (old and new), and the most amazing & supportive boyfriend by my side through it all. As some of you may have already known, I had been thinking about pursuing my dreams to teach English and create my art while traveling full-time for years, and last year at the end of 2016, I finally made the first step by leaving my job as a Production Coordinator, Office Manager, and Illustrator at Malka Media. It was a bittersweet goodbye, and it took me months to muster up the courage to start that conversation with my bosses, colleagues, and friends, but I look back now (more than a year later!) and feel nothing but grateful for everything I was given the opportunity to experience, including traveling to Mexico (see my post on that here)!

(my Malka Media family that I bid farewell to pursue my dreams)

(my “office” in Mexico)

By January of 2017, with the guidance of my awesome life-coach and brother Nathan, I had outlined a year-long plan for myself to budget and save in order to fund my tuition and living costs of moving abroad, and scheduled new milestones I needed to reach in order to set my plan into action. I had many goals in mind, but after taking time to reflect, I realized that I had only one real mission: to make this world a better place in my own unique way. It sounds cliché, but I had been living my life more passively than I had thought, struggling through challenge after challenge and feeling more empty as the years zipped by.

Teaching has always been a passion of mine - from my roots of holding weekly drawing lessons with my classmates in elementary school (I’m looking at you, X and B.Telf!), to my freshman year of college when I set off to pursue teaching as a major. Somewhere along the way, between teaching preschool art classes and substituting at the Zimmerli Art Museum for Al’s drawing classes, I lost my focus on teaching and redirected my energy towards painting and making art. Some of that can be blamed on Rutgers University’s policy at the time, which restricted Mason Gross students majoring in a visual art concentration from also partaking in the 5-year education programs offered to every other major. I weighed my options, and I chose painting, my first true love. I don’t regret making that decision, because in doing so, I was able to explore my reasons for making art in ways I had never thought of before, and because I majored in painting, I was able to conduct my research for my thesis project in Cuba (see my post on Cuba here). That first trip abroad is what sparked my passion for traveling, and put into perspective just how lucky I was to be born in a country of freedom, to parents who had paved a road of opportunities for me since before I was even born.

(my first trip abroad to Cuba - the spark that started the fire)

It was that spring of 2013 when a seed had been planted in my soul - to travel, to continue creating art, and to share the wealth of knowledge and opportunities that had been given to me by sheer luck of existing in the time and place that fate had decided. But, as all plants do, I needed to grow more before I could bloom. Fast-forward through my time living in the Philippines (posts on that here, here, here, and here), then returning home and freelancing as a painter, to working at a publishing company in NYC and then on to Malka, and there I was - 25 and feeling lost again.

(my first experience living in another country - on one of the 7,107 islands of the Philippines)

When I first left Malka last winter, I felt an immense sense of fear for the future, but with that fear came excitement and determination. I had already begun taking an online course to learn more about my options for earning my certification to teach English as a second language, and needed a way to save money and still have the flexibility to travel and plan more for the year ahead. I was lucky to find a temp position at Cozzoli, working as their Marketing Manager and Events Coordinator in the months between traveling back to Ecuador throughout the year. By the fall of this year, I had finally completed my application and interviews for the CELTA course, and was accepted to the program in Montañita just days before taking off to return to Ecuador again.

In the midst of all this, I have been supported by the most incredible friends and family. Some of you may remember my friend Claudia, who I met in Ecuador during my first visit to the Galápagos (read that post here). Claudia was living in Cuenca at the time, but had moved to Costa Rica after our trip. Then in March of this year, she reached out to connect me to her friend Kriss, who would be traveling to the U.S. alone and visiting New York City for the first time. At the time, I was still renting my apartment Café Bustelo in Jersey City, but had begun working at Cozzoli in Somerset, so was only living there on the weekends. Since my room was fully furnished but vacant on weekdays, I offered Kriss a place to stay during her visit. My amazing roommates Julia and Ethan graciously welcomed her when she arrived, and I was able to spend two weekends getting to know her. Our connection was instant, much like the spark I shared with many of my dear friends around the world. So by the summer, it was only right that I made a trip to visit Kriss in her hometown, and Claudia at her new home in Costa Rica.

(international friendship - Irina from Siberia, Kriss from Costa Rica, and me!)

Although my trip to Costa Rica was short, it was undoubtedly sweet in so many ways. Some of you may know that I typically plan my trips a year in advance, researching as much as possible to create an itinerary that covers a diversity of attractions, natural landscapes, and - of course - the opportunity to see animals in their wild habitats. This time, however, my planning window was short, given my many return trips to Ecuador and balancing my full-time temp job, painting commissions, and application for school. Luckily, Kriss and Claudia were there waiting for me, with plenty of advice and answers to my many questions. I had planned to fly directly from Ecuador to Costa Rica, after spending a week visiting the Galápagos for the fourth time, and a month on the mainland meeting Raúl’s family. I was expecting to spend a full two weeks in Costa Rica, landing in San José and embarking on an adventure towards Volcan Arenal, then off to exploring the Pacific and Caribbean coasts.

In case you didn’t know by now, with my luck, I pretty much live by Murphy’s Law. My initial departure date for June 18th was pushed to a week later when I arrived to the airport in Guayaquil and was denied boarding by Avianca. Unbeknownst to me, since I had been in Ecuador for a stay of longer than 6 days, it was mandatory to show proof of yellow fever immunization before traveling to Costa Rica. So, after our five-hour bus ride from Santo Domingo to Guayaquil, I changed my flight at the Avianca counter for the following Sunday morning, and we boarded the bus for another five-hour ride back to Santo Domingo. Along the way, I delivered the bad news to Kriss, Claudia, Will and X, who I planned to meet with upon landing in San José. Will had needed to change his flight too, so would be arriving just a few days before me. X, on the other hand, was already en route from New York, and read the news once he landed. Rather than follow my itinerary to travel to the Pacific Coast alone, he opted to stay in San José with Kriss and Claudia until Will arrived.

Once we were back in Santo Domingo, I needed to visit the health clinic right away. I wasn’t sure whether I had already received the immunization before, and since the clinic I had visited in New Jersey could not release my records to anyone except for me (in person), we resorted to asking the nurses at the clinic to help me write the immunization card without administering the shot. After explaining the situation and being denied, we felt defeated and began to walk away, when suddenly one of the student nurses snuck out to follow us, and offered to help if we could return during lunch hours. When we returned, she had a card already prepared and only needed my name to write in. We felt so grateful for her help, and thanked her before heading home. Once home, I realized the card needed to be dated 10 days before my departure, and my departure was in less than a week. Thankfully since it was the 20th, I was able to “edit” the hand-written card to read the 10th and hope for the best.

(the immunization card issued by the clinic in Santo Domingo)

Then the 25th rolled around, and we headed back to Guayaquil. At the airport, I was turned away from Avianca yet again. Apparently, the immunization card I received from the clinic was for domestic use only, and I needed to visit the Ministerio in Guayaquil to exchange this for an international document. Unfortunately, since it was Saturday night/Sunday morning, we needed to find a place to stay overnight and head to the Ministerio on Monday morning. At the time of my check-in, the Avianca ticketing counter was still closed, and would remain closed until 6AM, after my flight would have already departed. Because of this, I feared that the remainder of my itinerary (including my return flight home) would be cancelled as well, due to missing this leg of the flight without making a change before its departure. Concerned, I consulted the Avianca check-in counter, who had just denied me entry. They reassured me they would mark me as a cancellation, and not a no-show, which would keep the rest of my itinerary in place.

By now, it was 4AM, and both Raúl and I were exhausted and frustrated. We waited until 6AM for the Avianca counter to open, but by 6:30AM when no one showed, we decided we needed to get some rest and headed to Home Suite Hotel, where I had stayed before my first return to the Galápagos. The hosts, Ronny and Marcos, kindly awoke in the early hours to confirm a room for us, then offered us their couch to rest on while they prepped our room. The next morning, they even patiently listened to our story of how we ended up there in the first place, and offered to accompany us to the airport to try to straighten things out. Apparently, other guests had experienced similar problems, and Marcos himself had his passport taken by an Avianca agent during one of his trips. Ronny and Marcos should definitely win the award for hosts of the year, after everything they did for us.

(our suite at Home Suite Hotel in Guayaquil)

Our first order of business was to return to Avianca to change my flight. It was then that I was asked whether I planned to book a new return flight home from Costa Rica, since my entire itinerary had been cancelled. This was my exact fear the previous night, which I had explicitly asked about and had been reassured by Avianca agents would not happen. When I explained this to the agent, David, he kindly offered to help me find a new option, but unfortunately could not reverse what had already been done. By this point, I had already paid $200 to change my flight the first time, and was shelling out more of my savings to stay in Guayaquil to sort everything out, not to mention the numerous taxi and bus rides, so when David’s search only yielded options exceeding $1,000, I panicked. He calmly reassured me that if I returned tomorrow morning, the options may be cheaper, so I obliged and thanked him for his help. During all of these encounters with Avianca, David had been the only agent to offer genuine help and concern. I’m glad I met him, and in my next post, you’ll see how he was able to finally change my streak of bad luck. In addition to meeting David, the other silver lining in this unfortunate series of events was that our friend Jen happened to be in Guayaquil at the same time of this mishap, and we were able to enjoy dinner with her that evening.

The next day, we visited the Ministerio to have my immunization card exchanged for an international document, and headed back to the airport to change my flight for the following morning. However, this time David wasn’t there, and the new agent was not aware of the situation that had unfolded. After changing my flight to Costa Rica for the following morning, she insisted on charging me a $300 change fee to rebook my return flight to New York as well, since that had been removed from my itinerary due to a mistake made on behalf of the airline agents the night before. Out of options, I paid the amount and headed back to the hostel with Raúl to get some rest before returning to the airport again that night for my check-in.

When we returned back to the hostel, Ronny and Marcos asked us how things turned out. Once we told them about the amount of fees I had incurred from all of this, they immediately offered to join us to the airport to help us try to get a refund for the change fee. By then, I had lost count of how many visits we made to the airport in the past two weeks, or the amount we had paid in taxi fares, but I was grateful for their help. When we arrived, we went straight to the airport’s customer service office for an objective perspective, since Avianca had been of no help to this point. The agent there was not very pleased with Marcos’ tone, who introduced the situation, and insisted that he and Ronny leave the airport before leading Raúl and I to the back offices to speak in private with Avianca. By the end of the visit, I was only refunded $150, and was offered an apology on behalf of the airport. At this point, I just wanted to spend my remaining hours relaxing with my ever-patient and supportive boyfriend, so we headed back to the hostel to enjoy some take-out and Netflix before returning back to the Guayaquil airport (for the final time) that evening.

tl;dr :

Make sure you read all of the regulations for traveling between countries, including necessary immunizations and documents for boarding. This was my first time traveling from one foreign country to another after a stay longer than a layover, so I learned my lesson the hard/expensive way. When I returned home, I did some research and realized I was not alone - this exact situation has happened to many people. Most insurance policies will not cover fees incurred due to your own oversights, and as of recent years, the International Air Transport Association has ruled airlines not responsible for informing passengers of documents needed for travel. You have been warned - I hope you learn from my mistakes and not your own! Safe travels!