Monday 16 January 2017

Borderline assholes

First we had to deal with my visa. Overstaying it in any country by 13 days can be pretty serious. But then again this was Mexico and anything is possible. (Unless you kill a cow, then you are done for good. Seriously, you can kill people and sell drugs and might get away with it, but god help you if you kill a cow.) So I was hoping for the best.
Worst case scenario I would get deported - free ride home, yay! But I didn't really feel like it, at least not yet. Both Panchito and Daniel went with me to the immigration office to translate, help and support me. In the end I just had to put up with silly jokes about shaving my beard, pay 390 pesos fine and write an explanation of why I haven't left earlier.
So I sat down face to face with a chubby Mexican officer, who was really proud of his bushy moustache that was spreading all over his greasy upper lip and began to write. I went to great lengths to explain how our car broke down multiple times, how we got cheated by the auto mechanics and that it was never my intention to stay in the country longer. "I would never dare to disrespect Mexican authorities", "I wish to come back in the future to see and appreciate all the beautiful wonders that this breath taking country has to offer" - basically I was being a little bitch that would write down anything to avoid problems.
Taking photos in the office. Yup, you can get in trouble for that.
After I finished writing, there was need to translate it to Spanish. Lovely immigration lady who was in charge really translated just my name (written Martín now) and couple of sentences about the car. The rest was useless, so I'm very happy I spent 20 minutes writing this essay for no reason. When asked about my last job I told her the truth, I was looking for bombs and explosives on construction sites in Germany...apparently that wasn't right anymore and I worked as a waiter. So remember kids, don't lie to the police, they will do the lying it for you.
After all this was done we had a little chat with this lady and she start ranting about backpackers hitchhiking around, sleeping in hostels, tents or on beaches, getting girls pregnant, selling jewelry and playing terrible music on streets to get money. How she despises them and wants to deport them all, or something like that. I was doing my best not to look like that's exactly how I live.

For your information if you overstay your visa in Mexico, you are fine if it's for less than one week. Then it all depends on your behaviour, Spanish and officers.

After two hours we went straight for the Belizian border. Never in my life have I seen more annoyed immigration officers. When they found out that the car is under a different name I thought we are in big trouble.
First officer was annoyed because we didn't have a pen to fill in the immigration form and he had to lend us his. I think it's standard procedure to have and lend pens at the border - but here it's apparently seen as something very demanding. It took a long time to fill it in completely and when one of us made a mistake and needed to do it all over again, the officer kept his cool, but I could see in his eyes that his little mind is exploding with pure hatred. I guess he liked his pen a lot and the lost of this much ink was something he feared in life the most.
Second officer granted us visa for 14 days (normal is one month), stamped our passports and let us pass through to a lady at the cashier. Here comes the trouble I thought when I saw her annoyed face that also hinted she doesn't understand our situation and is not really willing to at least try to comprehend what the deal with our license plate was.
But Daniel, the silver tongued devil that he is, swooned her with his charm and soon enough she sent us to the main and last border check.
Group of policeman and soldiers stopped our car and told us to get out. I had to stand against the wall while one of them checked me for any contraband. I was kind of expecting a cavity search. Luckily this check wasn't an all inclusive one, therefore my fears stayed unfulfilled.
Three guys got in the car and turned it inside out. Asking us what is this and what is that. They showed absolutely no hesitation when they got to our carton of smokes and 3 (!) beers, which we bought in the free zone. They took it all and put it right on the pavement.
"Why is that?" I asked.
"It's not allowed." was the answer. "It's from the free zone, you need a permission for that!"
I smelled some serious bullshit. "I thought I don't need a permission for 200 cigarettes."
"...yeah...no, uh, you need one."
When I asked where can I get one, he pointed about 1km back and said "There". So I was ready to go "there" but then he stopped me and with an assholish smile informed me that it's forbidden to go back from here.
If I understood it correctly - you buy stuff, bring it all the way here and nobody says a word during previous checks, then you get here and they take it from you, because you don't have a permission nobody informed you about and you can't return because reasons. By the end of this Kafkaesque adventure you spent money, don't have shit and the policemen get it for free. And they do it to everyone. There were so many ciggies and booze on the ground!
So the Belizian border police is a lot like Robin Hood. The only difference is that they don't only take from the rich, but from the poor as well and keep all the riches for themselves. ...also they don't wear green tights, so it's maybe safer to just call them thieves.
For the whole duration of this little border assfuckery was Daniel in one of the cubicles with yet another officer. I have no idea what they were talking about. But I'm sure he wasn't there for hours just to chill. By the end Daniel had to go back to the first office for the lovely lady.
When they returned both were smiling and joking. What a magic. She stamped everything and when asked about our beloved tobacco products and alcoholic refreshment, she told me to go with her and get it. The policemen were visibly ashamed and told me to hide it from security cameras. Bunch of stealing bastards. Nobody can take our cancer sticks away from us.
It took us more than 5 hours to get from Mexico to Belize. But we made it.


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