Tuesday morning

I dreamed that I was going to meet my grandmother in afghanistan,
and the day before I had just had a young afghanistan hound sent to me. (the trip was spontanious) What to do with the hound? Leave him alone after just arriving? bring him with? find a houndsitter?
Soon I was on my way, my travel partner was careless, another security check found our paers out of order, we had to change our money, our passports (mine only actually) were out of order. Somehow all our money was left on a fountain ledge. I found it but not befor having to run through snow in flip flops.
A man had sat on it to claim it. Arguing did not work. I had to charm him. I made it to the hotel, I brought my kid brother. We sat alone as you were in a business meeting. I had not smoked for 5 days, which meant the day was today (this morning) but the end of the day (the future) They came along with a tray of treats. Some were contraband. Like vodka, which i wanted but declined. My brother had a cot for him and we were to share the bed. My brother got on the phone to my mother, he charged it to the room. Do you KNOW how much money it will cost?? I ask him, he is charging it to your bill. Grudgingly, he returns to the room. A hairdresser arrives with a cart. We talk about makeup, hair, and burkas. And contraband, like makeup. My brother says something about the 40 oz. of fuel under the bed, (from the contrabaned cart) Hairdresser's english is not great., She interprets it as a bomb threat. She leaves and soon the big men are instructing us to pack, quickly. They usher in 2 old biddys, and another big bed. The old ladys take over the room. The big men tell me to leave all my makeup behind. They are ushering you out as well, and you try to remain positive, but you are thinking that it is my brother's fault. I am beginning to wish that I had brought my new hound instead. Much less trouble.
So the big men are escorting me out. I charm them telling them no Americans are good, we are all just lazy and ignorant to the point of irritation, and soon one has his arm around my shoulders in a friendly gesture. I ask if I will get my makeup back... I don't want you to see me without my makeup. The big man just laughs, and assures me that it will get back to me, I can tell he is lying. They are sending us off to be punished for having contrabaned fuel/bomb in our room. A fair trial was hastily enacted in the hotel room where we were found to be ignorant Americans, but still to be punished. My brother to be whipped for faking a bomb threat.
We are in a car, driving and your disappointment shows. And you are seeing me at my worst, no makeup or sleep and lots of panic and stress.
Somehow, you are reading me a letter. and we are not going to be whippe, that was just a lie. But soon we part, and I know I won't see you again for a very long time.
I never did meet my granny there,
and
I can't figure out why everyone kept calling it Costa Rica.