Back Under the Southern Kite

I delayed a month and half, but have finally gotten back on the international travel circuit.
It seems I'm a bit rusty, as they nearly didn't let me board the plane in Charlotte due to visa issues. I was certain that I didn't need a visa and the gate agent disagreed. First, they argued that I couldn't land in Brazil without a visa, and then that I couldn't go to Argentina on a one way ticket. They eventually agreed to let me board, but not without looking me in the eye, giving a head shake, and saying, "This is BAD business."  Bad business? Like sub-prime mortgages or working for the mob? You'd think I was boarding the plane to Buenos Aires in Nuremberg, rather than North Carolina.
My language skills also need work. I learned most of my foreign language skills as an adult. Thus, rather than compartmentalizing each language and being able to switch back and forth fluidly, I just opened up a drawer in my brain and started shoveling foreign words in. So, when I am in a situation where I recognize the foreign language being spoken, I open up that drawer that is mashed full of German and Spanish. What comes out of my mouth is a mildly unintelligible thing I call 'Germ-ish'.  When I don't understand the language being spoken, what comes out of my mouth is just a high-pitched mumble/whine.  I mumbled/whined my way through 10 hours at the Potuguese-speaking Rio de Janeiro airport (can't leave the airport because I don't have a visa), but more than a day after I began, I arrived in Argentina.
My only plans are to meet up with Couchsurfing friends and see where the days take me. My credit card expires in March, so I guess I'll have to make my way back to Alaska by then.
A long day of travel is the small inconvenience we pay for the privilege of buying a one-way ticket, having limited language skills, being alone in a big city, watching strange buildings fly by, and picking out the tiny Southern Cross through the smog in the night sky. Feels so acutely like life.