See You Later, Oaxaca

L’HISTOIRE

It's Thursday, September 2nd, five in the morning, and still dark. Andres's truck stops outside Julian's building, with Sarah and Elena inside. Half an hour later, the sky over the mountains is turning pink, and the little airport of Oaxaca is almost empty. Andres parks the truck by the door. Elena hasn't said a word all the way from the city. Two suitcases, a rug rolled up and tied with string, and a bottle of mezcal wrapped in a T-shirt. The flight to Mexico City leaves at half past seven, and the long flight across the ocean tonight. This is the conversation you'll be able to say by the end of the lesson.