Before we reached the border, it was unclear what we needed. I knew we needed $20, but I had read online that you needed to have proof of your income. When I asked everyone, they said "No" you usually don't need that." "It's okay don't worry about it." Perhaps I should have been worrying about it. I had no credit card because I left in the machine and all I had was cash. When I checked my online amount through my Venezuelan buddy's phone, everything was there and the card was not used. There was no way to save that page on his phone as he was using it.
When we got to the dirty, dark border at 10pm, we had to take our suit cases out for inspection, fill out our forms, and get in line. At that moment I thought, I would much rather just take a plane. We stood in line and I couldn't see what was happening. When I got to the front with a female officer, she looks at my passport and looks at me.
"Where's your credit card?" Customs
" Well it went missing in Costa Rica just this morning." Pris
"Oh I see."
She is talking to the unconcerned, blank faced officers behind her saying she is missing a card.
She looks at me, "It looks like you are not going to Panama young lady."
"What? Isn't there something else I can do?
"No. Next."
I walk up to the next window and ask the guy sitting at the desk if I can show him a proof by bank statement.
This took five minutes because I was being completely ignored with no recognition of my presence. I asked the guy at the desk-no response, the man to the left-no response, the man standing in front of me finally responded.
"Go print it out and come back with it."
Thankfully, there is a wifi café and I go to log on to the website. Citibank is security enabled where it only lets you log on from foreign locations with proper security information. I had pulled it up and I asked her if I could print it.
Another unhelpful girl said, "Yes, it's ready to print."
I printed it, logged out, and walked toward the front.
"No, it didn't come through the system go print it again."
This was not going to happen because I could not log on again to a foreign computer without my card number. This was tragic as this was my only hope...so I thought. I asked everyone where there was wifi so I could pull it up on my phone. "No wifi." "No wifi."
I walk back by the bus and at this point I am really upset. I am borderline panic attack and my Venezuelan friends are calming me down and trying to figure out a solution.
Out of nowhere comes this truck driver who says,
"Come on I'm going to help you. Come with me."
He is completely comforting and telling me to not worry because we will find a solution. I am still crying thinking about having to stay there overnight and the bus leaving without me with just $20 in my pocket.(This was end of trip the dollars were all gone).
He keeps telling me to calm down, it will be okay. He said, " I know there is another internet café that has wifi." He knows this after I asked ten people who could not tell me this. We go upstairs and the guy lets me use the Wifi, I pull it up, and I am breathing again. He is still comforting me and being beyond nice. God sends angels.
Feeling confident and relieved, I walk up to the front to show the guy the paper. Again, they are not listening and ignoring me. I said, "Please I'm just in transit to Panama to go back home." I had the itinerary showing my flight and they knew this already. The man from the desk is looking at me and "shaking his head." The other guy is sitting and laughing. This does not look good to me.
Were they going to let me through or what?
They wanted $750 in my account and I had over $1000. There was no problem at all with the money. The problem was just with them and their complete discriminatory behavior towards me. When it came to all the locals going in, they were perfectly nice to them.
If I had given them attitude or done something wrong, I would definitely understand this behavior. This just made no sense.
Finally, the guy in front of me looks at it for a few minutes.
"No, you're not coming into this country."
"But I have the money that you want and I did what you told me to do."
"Did you hear what I said "No."
"But the balance is fine. It's right here."
They go back and sit down and completely ignore me. At this point, I'm tearing up and shaking my head. I've got to stay at this border and then catch another bus to Panama with $20? There is no way that is going to happen. There is no Western Union here to get money. I had planned to get money right when we crossed the border or even at a stop.
I ask them kindly, "Is there something else I can try and do for you? My bus is leaving soon and I'm going to miss it."
They are laughing, "You can miss it because you are staying here."
The bus drivers are standing there with their hands on their hips and their hands up in the air.
"What's going on?" They were not friendly and I'm sure they were hoping I missed the bus I paid $65 dollars for. So, what does a girl do to get what she wants with a man? She cries.
There I am crying and saying, "Please I just want to go home. I'm not going to stay in your country."
They are ignoring me AGAIN and I keep saying the same thing until the guy comes over. He looks again and says, "How do I know this statement is real?"
"This is my name, Priscilla Raj, and the statement and date is right there and that is the balance."
"Oh I see the balance. I was looking in the wrong place."
I had pointed it out five times.
Finally, he sits down and starts doing paperwork.
He looks up and says, "Just let her go."
And that is what they finally did.
This thin kid who had attitude and treated me horribly was being nice and stamped it. "Have a good trip."
Everyone I made friends with was asking me if I was okay and I said, "I'm fine." I gave them my backpack to put under and I got back on the bus to sit in silence. I did not want to talk with anyone as I was too upset and needed peace after that psychological abuse they just put me through.
I always say the worst kind of abuse is psychological. I would rather be hit than have someone taunt and tease me cruelly.
Again, my heart goes out to those kids who are bullied in such psychologically torturing ways.
God bless them and please protect them.
When we got to the dirty, dark border at 10pm, we had to take our suit cases out for inspection, fill out our forms, and get in line. At that moment I thought, I would much rather just take a plane. We stood in line and I couldn't see what was happening. When I got to the front with a female officer, she looks at my passport and looks at me.
"Where's your credit card?" Customs
" Well it went missing in Costa Rica just this morning." Pris
"Oh I see."
She is talking to the unconcerned, blank faced officers behind her saying she is missing a card.
She looks at me, "It looks like you are not going to Panama young lady."
"What? Isn't there something else I can do?
"No. Next."
I walk up to the next window and ask the guy sitting at the desk if I can show him a proof by bank statement.
This took five minutes because I was being completely ignored with no recognition of my presence. I asked the guy at the desk-no response, the man to the left-no response, the man standing in front of me finally responded.
"Go print it out and come back with it."
Thankfully, there is a wifi café and I go to log on to the website. Citibank is security enabled where it only lets you log on from foreign locations with proper security information. I had pulled it up and I asked her if I could print it.
Another unhelpful girl said, "Yes, it's ready to print."
I printed it, logged out, and walked toward the front.
"No, it didn't come through the system go print it again."
This was not going to happen because I could not log on again to a foreign computer without my card number. This was tragic as this was my only hope...so I thought. I asked everyone where there was wifi so I could pull it up on my phone. "No wifi." "No wifi."
I walk back by the bus and at this point I am really upset. I am borderline panic attack and my Venezuelan friends are calming me down and trying to figure out a solution.
Out of nowhere comes this truck driver who says,
"Come on I'm going to help you. Come with me."
He is completely comforting and telling me to not worry because we will find a solution. I am still crying thinking about having to stay there overnight and the bus leaving without me with just $20 in my pocket.(This was end of trip the dollars were all gone).
He keeps telling me to calm down, it will be okay. He said, " I know there is another internet café that has wifi." He knows this after I asked ten people who could not tell me this. We go upstairs and the guy lets me use the Wifi, I pull it up, and I am breathing again. He is still comforting me and being beyond nice. God sends angels.
Feeling confident and relieved, I walk up to the front to show the guy the paper. Again, they are not listening and ignoring me. I said, "Please I'm just in transit to Panama to go back home." I had the itinerary showing my flight and they knew this already. The man from the desk is looking at me and "shaking his head." The other guy is sitting and laughing. This does not look good to me.
Were they going to let me through or what?
They wanted $750 in my account and I had over $1000. There was no problem at all with the money. The problem was just with them and their complete discriminatory behavior towards me. When it came to all the locals going in, they were perfectly nice to them.
If I had given them attitude or done something wrong, I would definitely understand this behavior. This just made no sense.
Finally, the guy in front of me looks at it for a few minutes.
"No, you're not coming into this country."
"But I have the money that you want and I did what you told me to do."
"Did you hear what I said "No."
"But the balance is fine. It's right here."
They go back and sit down and completely ignore me. At this point, I'm tearing up and shaking my head. I've got to stay at this border and then catch another bus to Panama with $20? There is no way that is going to happen. There is no Western Union here to get money. I had planned to get money right when we crossed the border or even at a stop.
I ask them kindly, "Is there something else I can try and do for you? My bus is leaving soon and I'm going to miss it."
They are laughing, "You can miss it because you are staying here."
The bus drivers are standing there with their hands on their hips and their hands up in the air.
"What's going on?" They were not friendly and I'm sure they were hoping I missed the bus I paid $65 dollars for. So, what does a girl do to get what she wants with a man? She cries.
There I am crying and saying, "Please I just want to go home. I'm not going to stay in your country."
They are ignoring me AGAIN and I keep saying the same thing until the guy comes over. He looks again and says, "How do I know this statement is real?"
"This is my name, Priscilla Raj, and the statement and date is right there and that is the balance."
"Oh I see the balance. I was looking in the wrong place."
I had pointed it out five times.
Finally, he sits down and starts doing paperwork.
He looks up and says, "Just let her go."
And that is what they finally did.
This thin kid who had attitude and treated me horribly was being nice and stamped it. "Have a good trip."
Everyone I made friends with was asking me if I was okay and I said, "I'm fine." I gave them my backpack to put under and I got back on the bus to sit in silence. I did not want to talk with anyone as I was too upset and needed peace after that psychological abuse they just put me through.
I always say the worst kind of abuse is psychological. I would rather be hit than have someone taunt and tease me cruelly.
Again, my heart goes out to those kids who are bullied in such psychologically torturing ways.
God bless them and please protect them.
No comments:
Post a Comment