Panama Border Abuse

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.

Is this Heaven?

It turned out the priest wanted to switch seats so I agreed to sit by the window and take in the beauty. My favorite part of the bus is the window and staring out into sky, clouds, mountains, stars, trees, and people engaging in their daily work. Sitting on the bus with my head laying on top of the perfectly cleaned window, I stop for moments and just stare. I say in my head, "Wow this is so beautiful" like ten times over.


The real Costa Rica outside of San Jose is absolutely stunning. It's just God's beauty that is so present in overwhelming ways. The villages, the varying shades of green, the people smiling as the bus passes, the birds, and the way the sun shines on the people. I don't feel my description does any justice to how special it actually is, but I can say it's similar to the feeling of Kerala, India. Kerala is called "God's own Country." The nature is just exploding with God saying, "Don't worry I'm here watching over you."


If Heaven is something like Costa Rica or Kerala, India, I would be 100 percent satisfied. The rich nature and beautiful people would be the perfect fit for me. Heaven is a place where you spend quality time with God and his natural creations. It could be this environment with all those people you are suppose to meet in heaven....


Heaven Is Real. What do you imagine it to be?

Comfort Meets Attitude

With this Tica Bus, I had mentioned it went from Granada to San Jose, Costa Rica to Panama City. The one night stop over was in San Jose and then we went back on the bus Sunday at 10am.  I had previously had an extensive, fun filled trip through Costa Rica and just wanted to continue with my plan to go to Panama. 


My hostel choice was located about 5 minutes from the bus station and it was Hostel Colon. As I had read in reviews, you would never ever consider this a hostel. It was beautiful, peaceful with great food, nice tourists on their Ipads, and watching movies.  They had a great living room with a huge flat screen, nice furniture, high ceilings, great art work. It kind of reminded me of a small museum or gallery. It was just classy, sophisticated, and tastefully decorated.



I shared the dorm with two other girls in these enormous, super clean, comfy beds. One of them, a Chinese girl from Las Vegas, invited me out, but I was not in a socialization mood especially when I was in full social mood on the bus. I just felt like buying some black beans, tortillas(best tortillas I have ever had), and some green pepper/onion. Perhaps a yogurt if I could find one and an apple-done. That's exactly what I did and I stopped into the frozen yogurt shop, some fancy salad shop, and Subway. The prices were outrageous and I wondered how these people afforded this, but these were the rich Costa Ricans. The rich, arrogant Costa Ricans.


Sitting on the terrace eating my food, I was thinking about how this city is not the real Costa Rica. The people at Tica Bus in Costa Rica were completely rude. When I was asking locals about how to get somewhere, they would keep walking. It was some serious disrespect towards a tourist and I had no desire to stay another day. When I personally asked a guy why they have so much attitude he said, "Tourists made us this way." All I could think my head was Wow. 
"The locals don't like Americans because they come in and act superior to us. There are too many Americans visiting this country. "
Alright, so I got my answer there just asking him directly. It was clear that he was one of those people and I just let it go.


When I woke up in the morning to have some fresh pancakes and fresh orange juice-yum. I decided to take a long walk up towards the national landmarks. This didn't exactly happen because I seemed to misplace my Iphone charger instead of waiting I had to find a new one. I had to write while I was on the bus ride and I had to have a charge crossing the border in case I needed something in my phone. I went to a local shop and he had the original lightening cable. They didn't accept cards so I went upstairs in the mall to get cash. It's the great machine where stick your card in and then they don't give it back to you until the end of the transaction. 


Well, I just walked away not taking it back.  Someone told me they actually do this on purpose to take your card- a lot of crime in San Jose. 
I went to pay for my charger, not realizing the card, and I ask a few questions on it.  Oh boy, those questions got me in trouble. The owner happens to be there and says, "What you don't think it's good?" "It doesn't meet your American standards?" I am fighting for my rights as a customer saying I am just asking standard questions. I am continuously being cut off by him over and over. He is getting angry and he grabs the charger out of my hand. "Get out of here, I'm not selling." I had walked over to another shop and their cheap one did not work. I need this charger so I have to use my charm and be super nice and apologetic. "I'm sorry I really shouldn't doubt your product. I just bought a charger in Belize and it didn't work so I just want to make sure."
Not to mention this charger was $30??
He puts it back down and sells it to me. It's not over for him as he says, "I don't want to see you back here again."


With this waste of time, I have some time to walk around the market and the main streets. It's full of amazing fruit, pastries, full cafes selling coffee and all kind of muffins and cookies. I grabbed a coffee(can't leave Costa Rica without one) and some powdered sugar cookies.  The coffee was great before I spilled most of it running back to my hostel. Grabbed my bags and walked to the bus station for the next bus ride to Panama City. 


 

Venezuelans Starting Over

The country of Venezuela is a very corrupt, poor, and suffering country. The black market and trade is flooding with corruptions all to benefit the government and politicians who have taken over everything. The own all businesses. It’s not a place to live and many locals leave and start over in a new place.

When it comes to the country of Venezuela, a person may believe in the presented news about the country-violence, political corruption, and poverty. What happens is that people translate these characteristics of a country to a person. It's believing people are bad, violent, dishonest because of their countries negative state. It's not fair for Venezuelans to also feel this same lomd

On the bus, I met two lovely Venezuelans early 40s who had been best friends since childhood. With all the corruption and political mess, they decided that it was time for them to leave the country and start over. They tried a couple startups in Brazil and Argentina, but it was way to competitive. They went back to Venezuela to support their family and to recharge their batteries. After things becoming politically worse and losing a business their to government corruption, they left. They were on a trip through Central America to find a good place to land their business.
 
They had checked out Guatemala, Honduras, and Nicaragua and felt like Honduras was a good spot for them. He was explaining all the business details and how it's difficult to get a business license in certain countries i.e. Belize and Panama-no surprise there.

While I was staring out the window with the sun shining in my face, it felt so nice to hear their story. These people were so genuine and they experienced such struggle with their own country.  When you hear there is a shortage of food, it's just a shocking statement to hear. There may be people who can't afford to eat, but a shortage of food? A shortage of food raises prices enormously and people can't afford to eat what is available. To hear what is done to businesses with the government taking control over the business and market, it's absolutely appauling. The country has run short on dollars leaving them to borrow, dig a hole of debt, and then watch people suffer. The main problem is that the market and the country's people don't believe anymore. They have lost faith in the government for their corruption and selfish choices. The Bolivar is collapsing and the country seems to be on the same page.  It's a shame for these lovely people.


Along with this guy, I met a girl on the street who walked me to bus station. She was so sweet and kind explaining the times. She was also emphatic with how I felt, which was refreshing. When I asked her where she was from I got "Venezuela."
I said to myself, "Of course she is." It seemed like from Nicaragua to Costa Rica to Panama-  nice Venezuelans were coming my way and I was quite thankful for their presence and kind being.

 

Stay strong Venezuelans and if you have the opportunity-remove yourself from the environment and start life on the right foot. 

Come on Costa Rica

It was pretty unanimous that everyone in Central America wanted Costa Rica to go to the finals of the World Cup. In each and every conversation, people were proud of Costa Rica's hard work and efforts.  People were always rooting for them over Brazil, Argentina, and Colombia. They were gems in the eyes of Guatemalans, Hondurans, Belizians, and of course Costa Rica's. When they lost, it was one sad day for mi amigos in Central America. 

As for me,  my eyes were glued to the beach bar TV at the hotel.  I sat there drinking my club soda, literally sitting on the edge of my seat.  A couple Americans were sitting next to me with no expression except the one from their happiness with their margaritas. While I sit making my comments with the guys and eating peanuts, the locals sitting at the bar are laughing at my expressions.

People even laugh at me when I am just watching TV. They probably enjoyed seeing a girl so passionate about the game.  I was rooting for Costa Rica thinking how amazing it would be to follow them country by country to the finals with the amazing energy. I wanted so badly to go to Brazil for the World Cup, but I have all my energy right here in Central America. It's so nice being so passionate about the game. I knew I had a passion for futbol, but with the World Cup it just blew up.  

Anyways, with this Costa Rica game, it came down to the penalty kicks. My friend Mexico had lost to these penalty kicks and I was aware of their unfortunate outcome.  It's a bit painful to watch all their sweat and hard work combined into just a few penalty kicks. Priscilla thinks this is just ridiculous, but this it's the game.

 After closing my eyes on two shots, I watched the last one and that was it- the losing shot for Costa Rica.  I acted like a 10 year old having a tantrum over the loss. I was walking around the pool stomping the feet. The bartender was laughing at me and asking me in Spanish, "If I was going to survive this loss." I told him it's going to take sometime. I may never recover. He laughed at my emotional ties to the game and offered me some peanuts.