Crossing the highway
The quickest way to get from the Hotel Herradura, where the Symposium was being held, to the mall/supermarket/bank/fast food places was to cross the busy highway that lay in between. We had to run across one half of the highway, sit on the low wall separating the traffic going in opposite directions while vehicles whizzed by on either side at incredible speed, and then dash across the second half. Most sea turtle people managed it without skipping a heartbeat, but getting across that highway (not once but several times) was the scariest thing I did at the Symposium. I managed to get across most times by holding Angela’s hand. It was scarier during the day than at night, but Angela very patiently put up with my whimperings about how we would never survive it and how I wasn't going any further after we got to the median wall. It reminded me of when I was a little girl and had to cross big, busy streets in Calcutta -- I would hold my mother’s hand and saree and be dragged across while keeping my eyes shut…