Sunrise over Puebla

Well, not quite yet, but soon. Still, the sky is pink, and there is traffic in the streets.

I am drinking the first cup of my single-cup coffee-maker coffee, purchased for about eight bucks at the Target of Mexico, Chedrui, yesterday afternoon. With cappucinos from Oxxo at seven pesos, or less than a buck, the investment will pay for itself in a week. And I don't have to go downstairs and outside, to the Oxxo next door, to get my 6 a.m. coffee. (The restaurant in the hotel doesn't open until 7.) So I can leave the coffee maker behind, guilt free.

I wish I could leave everything behind so easily.

I've been thinking about the two George Clooney movies recently: The American and Up In The Air. I saw The American on the plane recently. I watched Up In The Air last night. George Clooney's goal is to hit the ten million mark on his frequent flier miles. Mine has been to be on someone else's expense account overseas for 331 out of 365 days. I dream of home, of a home, like the thousands of little twinkling homes below me in this vast city. But to me, they might as well be stars.

Tonight, most people will be welcomed home by jumping dogs and squealing kids. Their spouses will ask about their day, and tonight they'll sleep. The stars will wheel forth from their daytime hiding places; and one of those lights, slightly brighter than the rest, will be my wingtip passing over.