When Hadai dropped me off at the Vancouver Airport, he joined me in the queue to get my boarding passes.  I expressed my gratitude and a point of realization. "In life, we are always standing in some queue for a ticket, a coffee death."  It seemed an impetus for reflection.  
We kept talking, and one issue raised was how he had to deal with cockroaches in former residences.  "Our building also had bed bugs," he said, unceremoniously.  
One more epiphany surfaced.  "There will always be a pest.  It could be your boss, spouse, a barking dog at your heels, or a bug sharing your bed."  Hadai was amused.  
At the Los Angeles Airport, rowdy passengers waiting at the gate were my pest.  In the plane, the restricted space was my pest.  To some degree, I thank them for provoking patience.  At the Buenos Aires Airport, the 45-minute-long lineup was my pest. Patience again.  I had my meditation beads out.  I was chanting softly on them.  I was communicating.  So was everyone else in the line, but with their cells.  I'm not criticizing.  

I was happy to see my two trusted greeters, Matsya and Agni, outside the airport. There was also a group of chanters in a residential core of Buenos Aires, and the ‘group’ air that spring brings (I'm south of the equator). https://www.instagram.com/p/B4yDlKGgESo/?igshid=1gqxqtec4a44a
With those chanters, I got some walking in.  I felt grounded again, although we had to deal with yet another pest fast cars and the queue waiting for them to pass. https://www.instagram.com/p/B4zSKONAssm/?igshid=1oyz0yqge5oed
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