. . .
there was a bus strike in Peru and we couldn't get from Puno into Bolivia. It was day 3 of the strike, so even if it were to magically end immediately, all the buses were already sold out and it would be several days before any seats would become available. There were plenty of Peruvians content to live in the bus station 'til the labor dispute got resolved, but we weren't that patient/stupid. No one was trying to help us, but we knew damn well that there were minibuses or shared taxis or something that could get us to Bolivia. Everyone in the bus station thought that it was best just to wait the few more days or weeks or whatever for the strike to end, so we took turns watching the bags while the others would go outside to see if we could find anyone with an IQ higher than their shoe size
turns out there was a minibus station less than 2 blocks away. A minibus is a cheap Japanese minivan that country people fill with chickens and vegetables and stuff that they buy and sell in markets. It would take us several minivans and the better part of the day to reach the Bolivian border, but it would be an adventure and way better than camping out indefinitely at the bus station. The day consisted of plenty of National Geographic people and memorable moments and appreciation for not being born in the rural Altiplano. On something like our third bus in our fifth hour of traveling some police stopped the minibus. We figured they wanted to advise the driver of upcoming hazards or check his licence and registration or something, but they just asked us tourists for our passports. It's not unheard of for police in Peru to ask tourists for their passports and then when they have your passport they ask you how much money you have and then they ask to see it and then they tell you that all your money is counterfeit and they have to confiscate it. If you try to fight with them or explain that your money is not counterfeit, they remind you that they have your passport and maybe they'll give it back to you and let you off the hook this one time if you stop talking. Folks who have been riding with live sheep and chickens all day are not however, that type of tourist. My girlfriend and I cursed them out in Spanish while our companions used their native languages of Korean and French. Needless to say, they realized their mistake and rescinded their desire for bribes pretty quickly
. . .
I don't know how police scams work in Thailand, but I wasn't 'bout to learn. There are lots of tourists doing lots of drugs in Thailand. There are also lots of tourists doing underage children. Not sure why the Thai government continues to allow/encourage the second one, and I don't know or care what the penalties are for the first. I was returning to my Bangkok hotel when a coupla cops jumped out and tried to search me. I didn't have any drugs on me and I wasn't 'bout to either. They were quick to reach for my pockets, but I was quicker to slap away their hands and tell them "NO!" in a voice that they had never before heard a tourist use. They didn't speak much/any English, but I calmly and very firmly explained to them that I didn't have anything in the bag of stuff I had just purchased at the convenience store and proceeded to take out each item individually. The cops were confused at my behavior and one reached for my pocket again and got his hand slapped harder this time. I reached my hand into my pocket and pulled out my money. Then I counted it for them. Then I pulled out the rest of the contents of that pocket and showed them everything. Then I checked my pocket to make sure it was completely empty and then I told the officer to search that pocket. He did and then went for the next pocket. I didn't even need to slap his hand this time, just step back and glare at him. I replaced the contents of my first pocket and proceeded to remove the items from the next one. When all the pockets were carefully emptied and then allowed to be quickly examined I thanked the officers for their time and stared at them 'til they scurried away
. . .
in Chile I had the cops called on me, but was blackout drunk and don't remember anything. I know they were there though, since my girlfriend was quite upset that instead of studying for her chemistry mid-terms the next day she spent all night pleading with police officers to not arrest me. I got evicted from the apartment, but that wasn't a big deal since my slumlord didn't want to lose me as a tenant and found me a cheaper apartment two days later half a block away with better roommates
. . .
made friends with this elderly couple on a bus going somewhere in Myanmar. They live in Australia, and were back home visiting family they hadn't seen in years. They invited me to come stay with them and I accepted. Their family was happy to see them and loved all the gifts and were quite impressed with having a token white guy to gawk at as well. Lots of food and jokes and good times. The next morning we went to the local police/military office to let them know that there was a foreigner staying with them just so no one got suspicious. I might've been the first dude not from there to ever stay in that village, and my presence would no doubt soon be noticed. Myanmar is a cool place and the military junta seems pretty chill when unprovoked. Suppose we provoked them though, because these ones were real jerks. These military dudes were of pretty junior rank and weren't 'bout to overstep their bounds by sending any type of requests for approval to their superior officers. First they made us give them our information and bizarre things like father's name and occupation and a bunch of other questions that I was careful to answer consistently, but not completely honestly. After that ridiculous ordeal they sent us on our way. A few hours later we were called back and told to submit various forms and photocopies in triplicate. It was more than a lil' difficult finding a working photocopier machine in rural Myanmar, but we returned with all the requested stuff. Then they told us that we didn't have everything and we should come back tomorrow. There were plenty of unpleasantries exchanged and threats made, but the police/military dudes eventually gave us so many hoops through which we had to jump that we gave up and conceded defeat. I had to stay in the $4 tourist hotel in the city and the brother-in-law who worked as a motorcycle taxi would come every morning to pick me up and drop me off every night
. . .
Colombia is a country where the news is worth watching. Brasil, Mexico, and 'Merica are pretty good for murders and stuff too. Indonesia has the best news since every week there is an earthquake or a volcano or a plane crash or something else disastrous with a high body count. Colombia is the only place I've been where it felt like danger was always lurking though. Not in a scary way so much as a don't be an idiot and listen to advice or something bad will happen and you brought it upon yourself sort of way. Anytime you ask 'bout taking a bus somewhere people will tell you the last time that people were killed on that route. "That one's fine, nobody's been murdered on that route in something like 20 years" or "yeah, maybe that one isn't so good. Usually that one gets hijacked at least once a week" or "during the day it's fine, but you prolly shouldn't go at night." Half of Colombia is controlled by the FARC and if you look at a road map entire regions don't have any roads. You wonder if it is a mountain or lake or jungle or something, but the map doesn't have any roads listed because no one is responsible for what happens to you if you go there. Just stay on roads listed on the map and everything will be cool. Oh, if you're going to go to that city you should take an airplane
the airport in Bogota is full of donut shops and military dudes with giant guns. This was several years ago and perhaps folks have since gotten over their obsession with purchasing donuts in the duty free section. I hope they still have the dudes with the guns though. I've seen scary-looking uniformed dudes with giant guns in other airports, but you know the Colombian ones aren't there just for show. One of these evil henchmen looking guys was standing in front of these two ladies. The ladies' friend though it would be funny to sneak up behind the ladies and surprise them. He did and one of them screamed. He thought it was funny and the ladies laughed and confessed that he sure did get them good. Dude didn't realize how close he came to being riddled with 800 bullets. The enormous scary man with the giant gun had an amazingly quick reaction time, but was also quite adept at exercising discretion. Guarantee you that wasn't the first or last time he whipped out his gun and pointed it at someone's head at point-blank range
not long after I had an encounter of my own with one of these dudes. Me and the girlfriend were chatting and preparing for our flight back home after a wonderful vacation. I'm not sure how tall he woulda been without his boots and hat and giant gun, but he appeared out of nowhere and towered above me. "DEDONDEERÁ!?!?!" he screamed. I failed to react swiftly enough so he demanded my passport. Handed it to him and he scowled as he flipped through the pages too fast to actually read anything. "WHEREYOUFROM?!?!?!" he screamed. I told him United States/Estados Unidos and pointed at my 'Merican passport that he was holding. He did not appreciate that answer at all and took a step closer to me so he could look straight down at me and I had to tilt my head all the way back and look straight up. "WHATYOUJOB?!?!?!" he screamed. English teacher/profesor de ingles I stammered. He didn't like that answer and rifled though my passport again. Not finding what he wanted he peered deeply into my soul and slowly asked "YOU TROUBLE MAN?!?!?" I assured him I wasn't and he screamed "DROGAS?!?!?! COCAINA!?!?!?!" I shook my head and told him no no, vacation while showing him my girlfriend. She nodded in affirmation and he gave me one last penetrating sneer before throwing my passport at me. That dude was so cool. Me and my girlfriend giggled 'bout him the whole flight home