166. Deportation?

Thursday, 5/23/13

Today…was…crazy. To say the least. Thankfully, God had our back the entire time.

It started off normal enough. We took a night bus to Puno to check out the floating islands on Lake Titikaka. They are called the Uros Islands and are quite intriguing. The actually float! They are built out of roots and reeds and are tied down with string so they do not drift a hundred miles to the Bolivian side of the lake. We landed on two of the fifty islands, learned how to construct the islands, ate their food, understood their culture, and went on a nifty boat made out entirely of reeds.

We took the 2:30 bus for La Paz. We did not make it to La Paz…

We made it as far as the Peru-Bolivia border. We all had to leave the bus and go through immigration. Chad and I did this on the way here and felt like pros. We were first in line. We were the last to leave.

We presented our heavily stamped passports to the Peruvian border control officer who remarkable resembles Ray Ramano. However, he was not very funny. He looked at our passports then shook his head in anger. After asking us two questions, his following words worried us. And rightly so. “You are illegal. I will send you back to Puno where you may talk to the American consulate and be directly deported to the United States.” Chad and I were stunned.

Apparently, we were missing a stamp. When entering Peru, we received a stamp from Bolivia after paying $15 in fees. We were then all instructed to walk to the bus and board. We changed some money then did exactly that. Apparently, everyone on the bus did not get the stamp from the Peruvian side. Therefore, we were in the country illegally. Chad and I were helpless. Technically, we were illegal, but we could do nothing about it before or after.

We tried to use the help of a translator. She was told the same thing. That we were illegal, had to be taken to Puno, and deported back to the States. She left. We were worried. There was nothing else we could do. We finally accepted the fact that we had to return to Puno (probably in a government vehicle) and leave to the States. It would be quite the ending to our adventure. I stayed with the angry officer while Chad ran to get our things from the bus.

After a quick prayer. I had the resolve to keep talking. He was still angry, but I answered every question he asked with calmness and as much kindness as I could muster. Slowly, ever so slowly, he started to lighten up. I reemphasized we did everything we were told too. I mentioned we were volunteers at an orphanage in Rurre. He liked that. I told him we were leaving to the States in 7 days. He also liked that. Then he saw my jersey I was wearing from the team in Cusco we watched last night. He REALLY liked that. We talked almost as friends. Laughing from humor and part nerves.

Finally, he stopped laughing, gained his breath, and sighed, “Well, we have a big problem, don’t we?” I agreed, and then he started acting weird. He acted as if he was doing me a favor illegally. He was very hush hush. He said he would do me a favor, but I could tell know one. To me it seemed like bad acting, but I was willing to do anything to get rid of this problem. So, while Chad was still retrieving our stuff, I agreed to his deal. He talked to the other border control officer and Chad and I could get through if we each paid $50. Ouch. For us that was quite a bit.

So I went to another office where they went back in time and stamped my passport with the same date as when I entered Peru. Totally seemed illegal. Oh well, it worked. Meanwhile, as I was doing this, Chad returned with his stuff. When he did not see me with the first officer, he inquired as to my whereabouts. The officer put his wrists together and said, “Policia”. Chad thought I was arrested. Thirty seconds later I entered the room with a smile on my face. Chad looked quite flustered.

I told Chad what happened. I expected a sigh of relief. However, his response was, “Hurry, tell the bus to wait.” He did not skip a beat. The bus was the last thing on my mind. I swiftly finished the process and stopped the bus as Chad followed a few minutes later. We were greeted with applause as we reentered the bus. God managed to pull some strings and everything was all right.

We eventually made it to La Paz at 11:00 after a few more problems with our bus and crossing an unexpected river. But those tales pale in comparison to our deportation story.

I know my slogan below says I will keep adventurizing, but I do not mind taking a break for one day to recuperate. First the soccer game fight, and now this adrenaline pumping adventure. I am ready for some sleep.

**Keep adventurizing!...I know I will!**