I overpacked.

I knew I would. Staring at the monster from across the room, I can`t help but feel embarrassed.

Humiliation seemed to have welcomed me into Lima. After an arduous journey with turbulence that had me reciting last prayers, I get to customs only to be pulled aside. This time around, it wasn`t routine harrassment. The Peruvian Embassy had made a huge mistake on my passport.

2008 had morphed into 2007.

In front of a hundred or so people, I had to convince the officer I wasn`t trying to enter their beloved country illegally.

I was animated. I was exasperated. I was scared.

Huffing and puffing with frustration, he stamps my passport. It had nothing to do with my poor explanation. It was 10:30 pm and he had a hundred or so more passports to stamp. Air of vacillation escapes me as I go grab my monster and head out to the lobby. I scan for my name amidst a flowing sea of faces. I recognized that same feeling bubbling to the surface. They hadn`t come. José senses my embarrassment. “Senorita? You need taxi?”. I flash a weak smile, skeptism and relief in one. He leads me to his Taxi Green, and we bond over our 45 minute drive to Miraflores.

This trip snuck up on me so quickly I barely feel prepared, yet I am. I`ve connected with my traveling buddies and so far, we`ve been soaking up the culture and have invited relaxation in. Paz (peace) has quickly replaced humillación (humiliation)

Tomorrow, I fly to Cusco. I will face Machu Picchu. She may embarrass me enroute but once I reach her, she will find a woman at peace.