Illegal residency

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(Spoiler alert - no pics for this one)

July 21 - Well, this was a day to remember. I woke up around 5am again, when I heard someone from another room get up. I could hear rain all night – it really rained hard on the metal roof. And after the rain, it was still constantly dripping from the trees. Not bad, just there. I did some repacking, emailing, and generally getting ready. I found that instead of drying, my sarong actually got wetter from the humidity in the room. That didn't help. My plan was to skype with Jeroen around 7am and be ready to go when the Spaniards finished breakfast. I paid right after them and then realized they were leaving right then and not having breakfast. I had to end my skype call about two minutes in and hurryto the boat. I knew it would be a long day to get to La Ceiba, and it would be an hour before the boat came back after they left, so I had to go with them. I got off the boat and directly into a minibus around 8am. The bus was heading for Entre Rios, close to the border. I was the last person to get a seat, but far from the last person to get on. It has been a long time since I traveled like this, and I had forgotten what it was like. The minibus kept stopping every time we came across someone else, and the bus filled up even more. People were standing and the bus was super full and speeding away. At one point, the money taker kept the door open and was hanging out because he didn't fit anymore. Scary.

They dropped me off and a cab driver tried to sell me a 10 dollar ride to the border. Luckily another minibus pulled up and charged 3. He put my bag on the roof and off we went. We stopped at the immigration building and he took my passport in for me. A few minutes later he came back to get me. There was some kind of problem. Eventually he took my bag off the roof and off they went without me. The immigration officer asked me about my past trip to Guatemala in 2008. He said there was an exit stamp when I left, but that I did not have an arrival stamp when I first entered, making my being in Guatemala illegal. Which made me an illegal immigrant for the last four years. Of course, this made no sense as I had a stamp out of the country, so I didn't spend four years there, and bunches of stamps from other countries in the meantime. But I could not explain why there was no entry stamp, just as he could not explain why they had stamped me out four years ago without a problem. That did not stop him from asking me to sign some sort of form that I was illegal and telling me I owed about 150 dollars. We talked about it over and over and I did not sign the form. He said I could go to Guatemala City and figure it out there, on Monday. It was very far way and two days later that I would have to be there. Then he said there was nothing he could do and walked out. I just sat there. Another guy eventually handed me what seemed to be brochures for Guatemala. I just started crying. I was so frustrated and had no idea what to do. I just sat there and sobbed. So awful. I didn't want the guys to see me like this, but in the end it was the right thing. Full of machismo, they couldn't handle the crying. Eventually they came in and stamped my passport and gave me some water and asked me to go and not come back. They hailed the next minibus to the Honduran border post and got me on board. Crisis averted.

This brings me to something I've never understood. In so many countries, the immigration offices are quite far apart. This was a 10 minute drive. So what is the land in between stamping out of one country and stamping into another? People live and farmed in this particular place, so where are they? Guatemala? Honduras?

At the Honduran immigration, it was so easy. They let me in no problem. I admit I am a little nervous about leaving, as there is no exit stamp from that same 2008 trip. Why, I have no idea. Hopefully they don't notice. I had to walk for a couple of minutes to get to the next minibus and as soon as I got in, it started to rain. We waited 30 minutes or so, and I talked briefly to the other girl in the van. Then a couple got in and were speaking in English and I talked to them the rest of the way. He was from the states and his wife was Guatemalan. When we arrived in Puerto Cortes, I said goodbye and was whisked away to another minibus going to San Pedro Sula. Another full bus. I got a seat but by the end it was even more full than the first. As we drove into San Pedro Sula. I started to see America chain restaurants. Burger King, Pizza Hut, Burger King. Dunkin Donuts, Wendy's, Basking Robbins, Denny's. It was so weird, like being in the states but not. In San Pedro Sula, I went with a guy advertising the bus to La Ceiba, my final stop. It was a proper bus station and he brought me to the right ticket counter for a bus that was leaving soon. I gave him a tip for his help and carrying my bag for me. This was a real bus, though not air conditioned. The windows were open and it was fine. The woman who sat across the aisle from me eventually started talking to me, but it was all about Jesus and the bible. In Spanish. It was terrible. I am no fan of religion, any religion, but get particularly annoyed with Christians. Man, she was insanely happy, like fresh from an asylum. She gave me her phone number. Weird. Three and a half hours later I arrived in La Ceiba. From there, I got in a shared taxi and got dropped off at the Hotel Case de Espana. The rooms were more than I thought, but I got him to give me a bargain. I now have a room to myself, air conditioning, wifi, a cable tv, and a private bath, for like 25 dollars. This is my first private bathroom of the trip. I don't know if it because I am older, or if it is because of my recent travels, or living in Switzerland and earning more money, but I find I am much less of a budget traveler than I used to be. I am a little bit horrified when I think I am spending 25 dollars instead of the 10 I could have spent in a dorm nearby. And yet, it feels so good to be in this room right now. I love it. It is so hot and humid here, and I always feel gross. My clothes haven't dried in days, and in this room, they have. And I feel good. Anyway, I went through the entire day with no food or water, as I was afraid of being sick on this long day after another bad tummy this morning. But when I got settled, I tried to find some food. I went to a close supermarket and bought some bananas and a couple of cookies, and then went to a nearby restaurant, but it was closed. I didn't want to wander a new city in the dark, so I just ate a banana and the cookies and that was dinner. Not bad, but not much. But it didn't matter. I made it out of Guatemala.

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