Saturday, September 6, 2008

I'll see your border waits, Israel and Syria, and raise you 1 hour to equal the longest border experience ever!

After settling in Ipiales, I decided to get some food. I hadn’t eaten since my granolayogurt breakfast and I was famished. The hotel owner warned me about walking around at night and I kept a hand on my bag at all times. The main plaza was only a three block walk from the hotel and the darkened streets were populated with food vendors and people hanging out. After doing a onceover the plaza, I settled on a small drab restaurant with fluorescent lights and four plastic seats to each table. The waitress was friendly and brought over some absolutely delicious sopa de cebada. After I had demolished the hot soup, she brought over a plate with chicken, rice, beans, and plantains. Everything was so delicious after my long day. To top it off I had some refreshing jugo de lulo.

I wandered once more around the darkened plaza before retiring back to the hotel. I flipped through telenovelas and las noticias and then fell asleep in the awkward hard bed.

When I wake up it’s border crossing day! Hooray! I get up early, pack up, and head out. I grab a tinto to open my eyes. The plaza is completely different during the day. I snap a few pictures before finding my way to the colectivos to the border. We bounce along to the frontera and when we get there, my US passport and I have to get the exit stamp. There was only one person working at the Colombian immigration office so it took a little while (especially with people cutting in front of the line). I walked across the puente to the Ecuadorian side. People kept yelling “cambio cambio” at me as I shook my head. How exciting to be crossing a border!




I walked into the immigration office (bienvenidos a Ecuador!) and handed the officer my passport. He flipped through it and oohed and ahhhed at the stamps. He told me that there was no electricity at the moment so we all had to wait until the computers were up and running. He shrugged and said that it may be back on in about an hour. Of course he had no idea when it would be back on and really didn’t care. So I went to look for some breakfast. I found some watery soup with a chunk of chicken in it. With the crisp breeze, I was happy to have something warm and I loaded it with spices and ají!

Back at the office, the electricity hadn’t returned. There were two women waiting as well and one of them came up to me and started talking very quickly. It took me a few minutes to understand what she was telling me. Apparently she and her sister, both Colombian, were told that they needed a travel permit to enter Ecuador. So they handed over $70 to someone who they never saw again. At first I thought that she was asking me for money, but I came to understand that she had just been robbed and just needed someone to lend an ear to her story. She needed to talk about it. And oh how I know that feeling. It was only a few days earlier that I had lost about that much money and I remember the feeling of just needing to vent and for someone to express sympathy. So I listened. After a little bit, I asked if they had had any breakfast. Upon hearing the negative answer, I decided to invite them to breakfast. I was due for a karma sacrifice and I wanted to be that friendly hand that helps out in a time of pain.

Over breakfast, we got to talking. They shared pictures of their children. I shared stories of my life and my cell phone battery. We exchanged names and took a picture for memories.

When we returned to the office, the electricity was still out and the officers now nonchalantly predicted that it would return about noon, in about an hour an a half. I found out that there was a growing line of travelers outside the main office for when the electricity returned. I hopped in the line and sat to wait. And wait. Noon came and went. I couldn’t do anything but wait.


My head started to feel warm and my throat dry. As the hours slipped by, I felt sicker and sicker. In my feverish state, I oscillated between burning and freezing. What a terrible place to be sick. I contemplated returning to Ipiales, but I knew that I had to be in Quito that night. To pass the time I made friends with the two German girls ahead of me and the two guys (one Ecuadorian and one Colombian) behind me. A sociable Chilean guy befriended us as well. Hours passed. I was crazy with boredom. So I took a short video clip of the line.



There was a glimmer of hope when the lights flickered on. They let 10 people in at a time and there were only 2 officers working the desk. Then the lights had gone out again and everyone groaned! And we were left again to wait. The lights went on and off a few more times. And I was hopeless to do anything but wait. So I had some rum raisin ice cream.

Finally around 4pm the line sneaked through the doors. And I handed my immigration papers to the officer behind the glass. He practically ripped my passport into two pieces trying to stamp it, but I finally got the stamp! I ran out of the office and casted a sympathetic look at the people left in the line as I jumped into a colectivo to Tulcán. I had been waiting for 7 hours and finally I was through.

The Ecuadorian guy who had been behind me in line was also crammed into the van. He was going all the way to Quito also so I tagged along. At the bus station in Tulcán we were mobbed by people representing the different bus companies. And when I say mobbed, I mean that they swarmed and surrounded us and grabbed at our bags. They were all over us like angry bees or hungry piranhas. I stepped back and watched them attack the Ecuadorian, the poor guy. He decided on a pretty nice bus company that charged us $4 each. I sighed. I was done with the border, but I still had over 6 hours of travel before Quito.

He kept talking and talking. First about his “vegetarian philosophies” and then about Medellín and then about anything that came to mind. All things considered, 6 hours is way too long to sit next to an insanely talkative person. I mean, I love to practice my Spanish, but not after a long day of waking up early and spending 7 hours at the border. At that point I just wanted to stare out the window or close my eyes to relax. After a while of indulging in philosophical jibber jabber, I pulled out my “I’m not really interested in what you’re saying” look. When that didn’t work, I avoided eye contact and during the silences in the conversation I looked out the window. But I guess he was one of those people who are oblivious to it or misinterpret it.

After a while I said that my eyes were tired and that I wanted to rest them. That finally put a well needed end to our conversation.

Ecuador definitely has a different vibe to it, a different energy. I can’t put my finger on it and it’s barely describable, but you can sense it. Maybe it’s a more laid back attitude. Maybe it’s the relaxedness while driving at completely unreasonable and ludicrous speeds. Maybe it’s the frown at you until you convince me that you’re friendly. Maybe it’ll become more apparent to me with time.

César, the talkative Ecuadorian, finally got off the bus right before the tunnels! Whew. I got off not shortly after at the bus terminal and hopped in a taxi with two other people. I got let off at the hostel Secret Garden. It was nearly 11pm when I arrived (I had planned to arrive at 5pm) and I was tired, but so relieved to be there. Marcos, the eccentric German working the desk, gave me a shot of rum upon hearing the story of my day.

I tucked myself into bed in the dorm room after talking for a bit with some other travelers. The bed was comfortable and sheets were clean. It was so nice to be in a warm comfortable place even if I had to get up early the next morning. What was the reason for my early rising? Well… it just so happens that I had the priviledge of meeting a very important person at the airport.

3 comments:

Unknown said...

Nice work getting through! that sounds interminable (except for the rum raisin!).

did Nate save you some baklava?!

Anonymous said...

Thanks for the chance to see Panama and Columbia through your eyes and words. Hope Pat is feeling better. Pretty strong person - a lot like her daughter.

ali sa said...

mmm... i did get some of the very very delicious baklava. i think we'll have some serious competition for the next conroy cookoff!

mom is better! she got her stitches out and it sounds like it's healing well! what a relief!

thanks for the blog comments! hope all is well in the us of a!! talk to and see you soon i hope!