Hi, I’m Illegal: Part III

After an incredible visit to Semuc Champey, we traveled to Antigua, Guate to see the colonial city that is very popular among tourists. I enjoyed Antigua, really beautiful and very clean. It was interesting to see a place in Central America so catered to tourists. Except for the Bay Islands, Honduras is still trying to figure out the whole tourism thing. They’re getting there, especially in places like Copan Ruinas, but Antigua still has Copan beat. The interesting part though is that many of the B&B’s, hostels and restaurants in Copan are run by foreigners originally from Europe or North America, people who understand the business of tourism and what it takes to make clients happy. Likewise, in Antigua, the hostels were very accommodating, the restaurants had excellent service equipped with a lot of American-friendly meals, and almost everywhere had bilingual workers. Not to mention, souvenir shops upon souvenir shops. I saw so many white people here, it was a little overwhelming. All in all though, it was a great stay and I hope I can return someday. Also- the morning before we left, I had a bagel and cream cheese. GLORIOUS.

Main road in Antigua. The arch/clock is the remnents of a 15th Convent at the end there. Que bonito.

The day we left Antigua was one of ease and comfort. We figured out exactly how we would be getting from Guatemala to Nicaragua and had everything all planned out. The plan was to stay in EL Salvador for one night and then continue on to Granada, Nicaragua where we would be for four days. At this point my friend, Brett, had left to go back to the U.S. and it was just the four chicas. The first border we crossed was the Guatemalan exit border. They let us out with no trouble. Abby and I laughed a bit about how absurd our last border experience had been compared to this one. Little did we know that in a few minutes our laughter would be turning to tears. (How melodramatic does that sound?) After our exit border, we were crossing into El Salvador. Note to self: El Salvadorian border guards don’t like illegal Americans.

Mr. El Salvador walked onto the bus telling everyone that he was going to check our passports. As he did so my heart was beating fast and hoping upon hope that we would get through okay and that our illegal tampering with documents would not be discovered. Oh to dream. He got to Abby and checked hers…kept checking…twisted his face in a few different confused positions, and then said, “I need to go check this.” I gave him mine as well, off he went, and there we sat, fingers crossed. About 15 minutes later he returned to the bus, held our passports in the air, stared intently at us and said,

(Authors note: this is an abbreviated version of the conversation and much better when heard in person.)

“Get off the bus right now. Get off. I’m sorry but these are not valid. Get off the bus”
“But..we…but…why?”
“You are too far past the date, these have BEEN CHANGED.”
“But we were told we could pay a fine. We have money, here take our money!!”
“No, you can’t do that here, you need to get off the bus, get your luggage from underneath and go back to Guatemala.”
“Sir, please, we need to keep going, we will pay the fine, just…”
“NO. GET OFF THE BUS.”

Ahhhhh! In my head I am thinking ”okajdfnglakdfn omg omg omg omg omg omg omg we shouldn’t have changed them. Omg omg. What are we going to do…. Ahahaiogodnfkajdng gaaaaaaah” On the outside however, I was a bit more calm and collected. I complied with directions and put on my negotiating hat. We were NOT going back to Guatemala.

We made our way off the bus and as we did so, Abby began to call Triny, our principal. At this point I was so pissed, scared, confused, I didn’t really know what to do. The border officers kept telling us what our offenses were and we pleaded with them, saying that the Honduran immigration office said that we could pay a fine and be on our way. We lied and said that the immigration office had changed our passports and that we didn’t know what he was talking about; we still should have five days to leave the country. We also lied and said that we were catching a flight the next day in San Salvador to leave the country. Of course this is all happening in broken Spanish on our part and broken English on his part. Then came the tears. I could have made them too…just being so frustrated in the moment, but Abby beat me too it. She began her crying act with real tears, wailing about how her sisters have an air flight out of the country tomorrow and we have to leave. Here, I began to take on the “calm one” role, explaining our situation, negotiating as best I can in Spanglish. Meanwhile, we get a hold of Triny on the phone. Abby, still crying, explains (between deep crying breaths) that we were at the El Salvador border and they weren’t letting us pass. We put Mr. El Salvador on the phone with Triny. All I heard was a lot of yelling in Spanish. While this was happening, we had quickly become quite a spectacle for the entire bus and many of the vendors around the borderline. It was so hot out and the sweat was trickling down my face just as Abby’s tears were coming down hers. It was about this time when Abby stopped crying and said to her sisters, and me

“Sorry guys, thought the tears would work.”

As the men were pulling out our suitcases from below the bus, Mr. El Salvador went once again to check and see about our passports. We began to put on our backpacking backpacks, still talking to the other people on the border- everyone giving us advice on what we should do. Suddenly, Mr. El Salvador came running back,

“We have a solution! We have a solution!”

Oh? Do tell. You mean you put us through all this trouble and now you are going to let us pass? Yep, pretty much. We follow him into the office, 50 yards away. To make a long story a little less long, turns out they were going to let us pay a fine. $115 each. That’s a pretty hefty sum, but we were just fine with that. They extended our stay in the CA-4 and though we’d have to leave Abby’s sisters in Nicaragua a day early, we decided to just go with it and figure things out later. Thankfully, the bus waited for us. Mind you, this entire process took about 30-40 minutes. All the rest of the people on the bus were thinking, “stupid gringos!” I could care less though; I was just so relieved that we weren’t being sent back to Guatemala. One of my favorite lines was while we were in the office, Abby
was still crying, trying to convince the guy to let us stay an extra day in Nicaragua…

Abby: “Mis hermanitas tienen deciseis (deep breath in between crying) y deciocho anos y no puedo dejarlas…cry cry cry cry”
Mr. El Salvador: “I understand you are very sentimental, but please calm down.”

I almost laughed out loud. Sentimental. Ha. Abby is a Miranda and hates chick flicks. Don’t even get her started on “Eat Pray Love.” She threw the book against a wall mid way through.

After getting settled back onto the bus, I asked Abby if I could be the one to call Triny back. In the back of my mind I had been preparing my speech full of words like “unprofessional,” “unnecessary,” “ridiculous,” “unacceptable” and “unfair.” A lof of “un’s.” Of course, my real thoughts included words like “bullshit,” “I quit,” and “you suck.” When Triny picked up the phone, this is basically how our conversation went,

“Hello?”
“Triny? It’s Sarah. We got through and we’re on the bus, going to El Salvador. But it almost didn’t happen. It took a lot of convincing, a lot of heartache, stress and tears. This should never have happened. Our passports should never have been expired, and this should have been taken care of months ago. This is YOUR responsibility as stated in our contract and we should not be put in this position. It is extremely unprofessional and this is EXACTLY the reason American teachers quit your school EVERY YEAR….”
“Sarah. Sarah. I tried. You know I tried….blah blah”
“Well you did NOT TRY HARD ENOUGH.”
“Sarah…“
“You have had foreign teachers for 10 years. This sort of thing is absolutely ridiculous and entirely unacceptable, and I have half a mind to quit right now…”

I pretty much continued on this rant barely pausing to let her talk. I wouldn’t say I was yelling but I certainly was talking very sternly. About mid way into my rant or her attempted reconciliation, I lost service on my phone and basically hung up on her. So not only did I call my BOSS unprofessional, ridiculous, and threaten to quit, but I also accidentally (unbeknownst to Triny) hung up on her.

People always say that you should take a few deep breathes, wait a little bit before talking to someone about a problem, not do it in the heat of the moment. As good as my speech was, I think I could have taken a page from this book. I usually do, too. It’s rare that I let the heat of the moment get to me, but I suppose it needs to happen occasionally for me to remember for next time.

When we got to our hotel in San Salvador, we wrote Triny and email, apologizing for the hang up and explaining further our situation. It ended up that we didn’t hear from her for about 5 or so days which was almost as bad as my junior year spring break mess (anyone remember that?) We did finally hear back from Triny’s husband, Phil, and it was all very understanding, apologetic, and with no negative feelings. That was a load off, for sure. Before that however, about 15% of my brain was thinking, SHE IS GOING TO HATE ME. To which Abby so eloquently would reply,
"Sarah. No. She totally f*cked us over." FACT.

This story has a happy ending though. Once in San Salvador we found ourselves at our hotel where we had reserved an economy room. We got even further discounted because we were taking a bus the next day from its “sister” company. When we entered our room, not only did we have a TV with cable, but also the most amazing shower I have seen in Central America. The water pressure was amazing, the hot water was almost too hot (almost) and the towels were tan suave. After our hot travels and extremely stressful day, we all took showers and then watched Legally Blonde 2: Red, White, and Blonde. Hot showers and stupid television…awww reminds me of home. Thanks, Elle.