They got me. For those of you who wondering just how long it would take before the five-O caught up to my loose living...you can rest your thinkers...it happened. Really a little over a month ago, but since I'm still not really in the swing of this blogging thing, you all are just now finding out about it.
I was cruising along the Pan-American Highway with my new friends, Bubba, Talley and "Doc" all from around Franklin, Tenn. when it happened...a roadblock. The fuzz were everywhere...they were like an army (at least 5 of them). Now when I first came down roadblocks made me a little nervous, but by now I felt like I had the system perfected to an art...slow down, smile and give them a sucker... For some reason these guys (child and adult alike) love blow pops. So I try to always have a bag of candy readily available...just to let the police know how much I appreciate their hard work. Unfortunately for me this go around they were stopping everybody and I was out of suckers.
The four of us were on where way back from visiting the medical clinic in Las Pitas when we happened upon a random police roadblock. Most of these Police stops are stationary and they don't move...no sense in making things difficult for the bad guys...but this one was right next to the cock fighting ring and caught me off guard.
They waived us over, being the driver/guide/translator they naturally came to my window first and ask what we were doing. I told him as I started easing on the gas and letting off the clutch, hoping to kind of slip away--maybe he wouldn't notice--he did...and then he dropped the bomb, "you have your passport?" Of course not...what do I need to carry that around for? At some point this fellow got confused and thought I was down here working illegally so I could send Limperas ($) back to support my family in the states...Let me work a month digging ditches so my grandparents can treat themselves to a Happy Meal on a Friday night...
With each new group I give an orientation on their first night with Mission Lazarus...and I strongly emphasize the need for carrying your passport...so needless to say all of my travel buddies had theirs, the missionary/guide was the only one without--it was a little annoying and embarrassing...
I had to get out, leave my nervous Gringo companions alone in the car, and go plead my case with the "jefe"--boss. His proposal was to hold their documents and we could drive to the house and get mine---about and hour away---I kindly rejected his offer and told him I'd stay, give the gringos (cause I'm not one) their papers back and they could return with mine. He was obviously disgruntled--he would have rather me make a contribution to his retirement fund and get it over with. So I walked back to the car, laid out the plan of action, grabbed my sack lunch and proceeded to bust a fat chill with the Honduran Po Po.
As I opened my lunch I could tell they were interested, so I shared--it doesn't take much to make friends-- and about a half hour into the ordeal they stole a tomato from an old man driving by and offered it to me as a gift. ENTRAPMENT!!---I've seen Matlock and Perry Mason---so I cut it up to share, that way they were guilty too...I had no plans of going to a third world prison alone...
Then, about the time I thought things were going good...they started asking about "my love life". One thing led to another and since I have no wife, girlfriend or "woman", its only natural to assume I'm batting for the other team... Luckily I was able to clarify with some "Jesus talk" and inviting them to church...
By the time it was all said and done, I had been there about an hour and we were laughing and shaking hands...they even apologized for detaining me. Two days later, the boarder patrol stopped a group of Mission Lazarus volunteers coming from Nicaragua, he jumped on the bus saw it was gringos and (since we all look alike) said "Ya'll know Camaron?" the North Americans said yes, the police let them go...Makin new friends everyday...
