Travel Story: Spencer james conway - south america
BULLET ANTS AND NAKED CUSTOMS OFFICERS
Many adventure riders and travellers find Customs and border crossings one of the most frustrating experiences of their whole journey, what with the delays, the petty officialdom and often open corruption and bribery. I fully understand that but I have had some of my most memorable experiences at border crossings. South America has not disappointed. The mantra I always use and which helped me hold on to my sanity throughout Africa is ' day by day, border by border, nothing lasts forever and delays are part of the journey'. This simple sentence has turned frustration into calmness and has once again proved invaluable on a number of occasions on this adventure. Let me illustrate one example. The San Ignacio border between Ecuador and Peru is a small quiet affair and at first glance looks like smooth sailing. However, I approached it with the same philosophy I always do- that my whole day will be swallowed up in red tape and even then I might not make it. Anything quicker than 12 hours I see as a bonus.
As I approached the Ecuadorian side, the Customs Officer (yes, the Customs Officer) was standing outside a small rickety office chewing on a piece of stick. His uniform was crumpled and sweat glistened on his brow and dripped from his impressive moustache. He reminded me of John Cleese, albeit a John Cleese who had been shrunk to about 5 foot. Add an impressive paunch and you get the idea. He looked like he had swallowed a basketball. He seemed to be pretty approachable and friendly so I had a glimmer of hope that all might go well. As I always do, and this is another one of my golden rules, I stopped the bike, took off my helmet, jumped off and walked towards him with a big smile, an outstretched hand and a hearty Buenos Dias Senor.
This may seem basic, but you would be surprised how many Adventure Riders fail to follow the basic etiquette of respect whether it is a Police Officer, Customs official or a member of the public. Even if just asking directions it is very rude to pull up to someone, helmet on, bike running, no introduction, just ' Do you know the way to...' It certainly starts you off on the wrong foot and does no favours for future travellers. He responded well and gave me a firm handshake. After a brief discussion in broken Spanish, I ascertained the basic procedure and just as I reached into my rucksack for my passport and
relevant bike papers he halted me with a raised hand. 'Momento Senor', and with that he disappeared into the little office behind us. I was used to this 'I'm in charge, we go at my pace' attitude but it was all harmless and friendly. I sat on a small concrete wall, happy to wait until he had dealt with some important paperwork or had finished a pressing engagement with his non-existent superiors. However I wasn't prepared for his next move. After fifteen minutes or so he came out, gave me a brief nod and crossed over the potholed single road to a large tree. He then proceeded to strip off all his clothes and stood under what I now saw was a makeshift hose and shower head hanging over a branch of the tree. With gay abandon and stark naked, he proceeded to lather up and had a truly efficient and detailed wash that lasted for no less than 20 minutes. After drying himself off he redressed slowly, brushed his hair in the reflection of a truck window and sauntered over, well waddled over, nodding his head in the direction of his Office. He was ready for business.
My paperwork took five minutes. I loved it! I was not out of there yet as the Peruvian Customs Officer on the other side had his little party trick. As soon as I had greeted him, he looked at his mobile phone and stated that it was his lunch time. At ten O clock in the morning? I had to stifle a laugh because I had actually heard of this man! No matter what time of day it is, he apparently has to have lunch when a foreigner turns up. It's a cunning ploy, because, you see, his sister owns the only little shop/restaurant at the border. He heads there for an hour or so, eating at a snail's pace. Eventually any traveller who is waiting, will go and buy water, a soft drink or even a meal! Hey presto, she gets thirsty customers who otherwise would have rushed through.
Loved it too! The theatre of it. After forty minutes I followed him in, bought the obligatory drink and secretly filmed him having his Seafood Ceviche. Only when I had bought something was he ready to stamp my papers. I had one more border surprise. As soon as I was through I stopped for a sardine sandwich as was bitten by a bullet ant. I jumped six foot in the air and promptly swelled up. My whole body was burning. It was like being burnt by twenty cigarettes. If you think I'm being soft, Google bullet ants. Supposed to be one of the most painful bites of any insect. I can attest to that. Great day!