In Mexico at Last

Dear friends, I received terrible news just before posting this entry. My nephew Scott was killed last night. Please pray for my sister Rebecca's family and all of us grieving our loss. Scott would have been 25 on New Year's Eve.



I am in my room at the hotel outside of Mexican customs where across the 3/4 wall is the sound of friendly banter in Spanish. It is my new friend Ana and her friend Hector who have helped us all day through the unnavigable customs process at the border. My dad is asleep with Guthrie on his bed and Eli on mine. Even the pups are exhausted. Though they much preferred laying around and under the car at customs all day than riding in the car. And we were there all day.

First we were with Mario's cohorts in Texas. Nacho and Kevin. They checked off our items on a list and bonded us, or they were bonded. Or maybe our things were bonded. The pups lay under the car there because it was hot and they could watch the chickens on the other side of the rutted empty lot where we were parked and hear an occasional bray from the donkey tied to a feathery-leafed, down-hanging branched Texas tree.

Then we learned how much cash we needed for this whole escapade and I Understood why yesterday's US border patrol didn't believe that we had enough cash with us. Sheesh. There is one cash machine in Los Indios, where we would cross. We can use credit/debit cards in Belize, but not much in Mexico. Even gas stations take cash.

So maybe going through a broker, I would fly through customs. I envisioned us spending the night in Ciudad Victoria, three hours past the border. Instead, we are staying 1/3 mile past the border at a little place called "Hotel" as far as I can see. The vacant land all around it is full of the vehicles we saw yesterday - semis hauling mangled cars, school buses pulling boats...you see a strange array of vehicle combinations. My friend Ana is in a semi cab hauling another semi cab on which stubby rig rides a pickup truck balanced on a tractor tire. Who can explain it? I didn't ask Ana.

We were the only Leisure vehicle as far as we could see. Everyone knows something I didn't know. Next time maybe I will take my dad around the Entire World in order to save a little money on our winter trip.

We did not "fly" through customs. We flew through Pedro's section - he was Mario's man. And then I followed the truck in front of me through the lanes and ended up trying to exit when I was supposed to go to the inspection line. But I and my goods and the man who did the paperwork are bonded, I wanted to say. In order to go to the inspection line, the only English speaking customs agent I met had the semi (with full trailer) behind me Back Up so I could backup and swoop around the whole lot to the Back of the Line.

"Look for the one in a blue shirt who has your name," a helpful vested agent told me.

I envisioned a line up like at the airport with chauffeurs in suits bearing placards of the name of their international guest. It was not like that. There were many agents in reflective vests (I will write a letter to Mexico later suggesting a spiffy uniform on their customs agents would really make the experience a better one. Why should I give a guy in a mere reflective vest the title to my car? It doesn't seem right.

We parked and I latched Elias and the Gute to the u-ring of the (open) back door with a caribeaner. And put out a bowl of water. They were placid all day except to two men. I love this about dogs. They are unabashedly prejudiced about nonsensical things. Or about very sensible things that are beyond our capacity to perceive.

Eli, after all, knew there was cancer on my leg before I or the doctor thought to look. He would put his Wet Snout right on the mole on the back of my leg when I was wearing shorts and then look up at me expectantly. "CAnt you smell it?" he wondered. It bugged me, I didn't like him touching the spot. Eli knew. Guthrie likely also knew but felt if he kept quiet it might mean that his next home would be a family of Rabbit hunters, and he'd like to see that happen while he is still in his hunting prime.

This is when I was hit up for $11.

I paid $200 to Mario and $350 to Nacho and $600 to the United States of Mexico (of which $540 will be returned if I depart to Belize as I promised.) Can you imagine me quibbling then about $11? What is $11?! It made no sense at all but I wanted to understand.

It turns out he wanted $11 to search my car. I'd actually rather you don't search my car, I thought. Then we can just call it even...

It turned out to be okay at the back of the line because I met Ana. She and Hector are headed to Honduras and we will caravan with them most of the way to Mexico. Til Vera Cruz where my dad and I may stay one day (depending on energy) and then finish our trek to Belize. At first I couldn't not see Mexico no matter how much I tried to think and plan that part of the trip. It was only all about Belize. After a day in customs, I would like a little Mexico playtime before facing my Second Customs Scenario in Belize.

Ana helped me with every single step of customs. We spent five hours sitting and waiting. When the blue-shirt girl at last came with my Papers, she glanced through the windows of the car and said "Pobrecitas!" (Poor things!) about the dogs splayed out on the blacktop next to the car and then nodded.

"You're ok."

What? I waited five hours and you aren't going to search my things or count teabags or see that I gave away in Texas the machete that I had under the back floor of the wagon so I wouldn't be traveling with any possibly weaponry? At Least ask me for my hard-fought International Travel Certificates for the dogs and let me tell you why I do not have the listed cat in my charge.

Ana helped me figure out what people were saying to me. She is Salvadoran and lives in Houston. She helped me know what was next. She told me I still needed to take my passport in to immigration after the approval of the car.

I didn't listen. I meant to, but I asked and asked. "Que hago ahora?" (What do I do now?)

Go, they told me with a motion to skidaddle.

But I have papers for the dogs, what about my passport.

Go, they motioned to an open lane that used to be full. My road into Mexico. I took it. Thank God for Ana who came to our shared hotel room later and said, "You didn't do your passport. You need it stamped."

Ah, no one had stamped my passport. Of Course I needed it stamped. How confusing. Why did they tell me to go, only to be stopped later by Federales and appear to be a rogue American at large in Mexico without a Stamp.

We can go now, she said. It was 5:30. I will go with you, there are many lines and I will help you through.

Is she an angel, not a real person?

We went to Immigration and our passports were stamped just under the wire. The cash window was closed so I couldn't pay. Apparently a deal was worked out. I give the agents $10 each and they give some necessary approval on the form. Then when I leave the country, I pay another $20 each. As my discipline for not getting to the cash window before 6 p.m.

I think what I did was pay a bribe. But I didn't know it til Ana explained later that I would have to pay again.

What I didn't tell you is how I wound up in Room #8 at the Hotel. I told Ana that Jorge, the customs agent, told me to stay overnight at The Hotel on the other side of customs so we wouldn't drive at dusk.

It's not that everyone had told me not to drive at dusk, it's that no one has not told me - every single person who knows anything about Mexico says not to drive at dawn or dusk. From customs agents to Mexico map sellers online to arbitrary friends.

Yes, Ana agreed. It is very important to plan to stay at the hotel tonight and start out at 6 in the morning with the caravan of all of the vehicles traveling our route. (we get to be in a caravan!)

"It's too bad there won't be rooms left after all of these cars go through customs," she said. "But do it anyway."

"Do what?" I wondered.

"Sleep in your car if there's no room. No matter what, don't drive at night."

I looked at my dad working on his next scrabble word on the Deluxe edition board that has ridges to hold the letters. I wondered about brining the bigger box of the Deluxe edition. It was the right choice. He held the board on his lap and my tray of letters sat on the dashboard. I didn't thinkI could bring myself to make my dad sleep in the car overnight.

What if we call ahead and get a room, I asked Ana.

We can walk, she said. She checked with a vested man. Yes, indeed, we could enter Mexico without our cars, without our passports stamped, just walk on through and rent a hotel room.

We stood in line in the little square room, max cap 4 people, and saw a lone key on the wall. #8. The man before us asked about it, shook his head no and accepted soap and toilet paper from her and went on his way.

Only one room is left, Ana translated for me. It has four beds.

Can we share it? I asked her. We both liked the idea. Share we did. She and Hector on one sideof the half wall, he drinking rum and they talking in happy Spanish. My dad and I and the pups on the other side of the half wall. Bone tired.

I asked my dad at customs, "Did you ever think I would put you through something like this?"

"No, never," he responded. And we laughed.