The Crossing Part II

I was tracked down at the gas station just before the Honduran border by some Salvadoreans who seemed to know my name. Not hard since I have it splattered on the back of the orange cooler. Turns out these guys who hang out at the borders know each other, and give the next guy a heads up, to either break the ice, or pass on hints on how to get the most money out of them. Again, so touchy about the borders, I icily told them I wasn't interested, but they persisted. It ended up being good that he was persistent, especially since I told him 3 times to let me take care of it myself throughout the 8 hour experience. As I still didn't have an actual driver's license (just a faxed copy) and my registration document showed expired (of course, I can't get icbc to insure a vehicle in central america) but it was all a lot of red tape to squeeze as much money out of me as possible.

I made the mistake of panicking with the thought of spending the night at the border, unable to go forward, or go back. I put out a facebook plea for help, and sent an email to Eddy and my mom with the cryptic phrase "are you there i need help". Lisa got on the phone to both my insurance company, and ICBC, but neither of them said they were able to send the document I needed. The next step was then to get on the phones myself; the whole time the Salvadorean guy is sitting there waiting for me. He escorted me over to a store with 4 phone stalls and a digital meter on the wall. The lady there was helpful although the first call we made got picked up by a guy in Calgary, as they have the same number as ICBC in Victoria, and the phone system missed the mark.

2nd attempt, I use a 604 number and get ICBC. That was useless.

Finally, I got a hold of Paul and Ina at Cassels Insurance. Ina picks up the phone; a straight shooter and no messing around. "Ina, it's Jason. I'm at the Honduras border and I'm in a situation. I need someone to clearly explain to me about the Owner's Certificate of License and Registration." Feeling better now as I'm talking to someone who knows what they're talking about. "We're not able to insure a vehicle in Honduras." she said matter of factly. "I know that Ina, but how can I get a document that shows a date that's not expired?" I ask with frustration in my voice. "They won't let me into the country without it!" "Just a minute, here's Paul." "Paul here." I repeat the situation to Paul, and he simply suggests to rip the top off the paper, as the registration is only on the bottom. "Ok, that makes perfect sense." I replied with a renewed sense of purpose.

So, they ended up giving me a 7 hour permit for $150. There was another $28 in fees, which normal people would pay only, but i'm special. Either way, i didn't have it, so we jumped in a cab and paid another $25 for that, and by the time 9 pm came around, I had to give $20 to the guy to pay the police officer on the side, then him and each of his helpers, so it was probably $250 just to get through the country, which i did expeditiously with a foul taste in my mouth. I will never forget having to go back into the border office and see the face of the administrator, with seeming disdain at my situation, and frustration with me. He lets me use his computer as I assure him my documents are real. "No se puede", he says. I can't do that.

We go into the administration office, where two young girls are working, one on a computer, and one with a typewriter from the 50's. We get things going anyways. Something clicks for me. I've been mistrustful, stressed and worried the whole afternoon - why not just enjoy it? So, I put my arm around the guy I hated all day, and trusted it would all work out. While we were back at the bank, my helper's brother had taken care of everything

The Nicaraguan border came about 3 hours later, was considerably easier and quicker, and i was out in an hour or so, after paying a tip to the border guard guy, and then yet another 'helper' who asked for $5 which i didn't have. I promised to come back the next morning to pay him, and i did, but it turned out it had actually changed to $10 somehow. I offered to pay in Cordobas, Nicaraguan currency, and his rate now changed to 30-1 instead of 21-1. I just paid him and decided to smile. I was on my way.