I'm at the airport, surrounded by American church groups on their way home: southern accents, matching t-shirts proclaiming "Te amo Jesus" or "Mission: Guatemala 2013" or "Make His name known," people fat and thin, all speaking loudly. There's no where to look away. Get me out of here!
But, wait: the adjacent flight, destined for Newark, looks to be 100% ethnically Guatemalan. I have moved to sit here instead, surrounded by the pleasant quiet murmuring of Spanish.
Funny the differences in U.S geography and affiliation. (My own flight is via D.C., the one behind to Houston.)
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