Las Policias ... but not really...

So.... I had a bit of an adventure about a week ago, which was pretty scary but also makes for a good story...soo.... I´m going to relate that story here.



I had taken a taxi home, but given the driver poor instructions and ended up about 5 or 6 blocks from my house... not really a big deal - so I thought. The taxi driver seemed a bit concerned for me, but I didn´t understand what he was saying and I figured I´d be fine, so I got out of the taxi, crossed the street and began walking home.


I had my big backpack on since I´d just gotten back from a trip to Santiago with the other SALTers and IVEPer and I heard a lady call me. "Señorita! Señorita!" I thought that maybe my backpack was open, so I stopped.



(*side note: all this took place in Spanish... I shall relate it in English with a few Spanish words inserted here and there... please forgive me if my spelling is bad)



Thankfully my backpack wasn´t open, she just wanted to know the time. It was 4:38pm and still perfectly light out. After giving her the time I turned to walk away, but then she started asking me which micro she should take to go North. I told her that I couldn´t help her because I didn´t go that way, but she persisted in asking, telling me that she´d been looking all over for her micro. I apologized again and again tried to walk away. Just then a man walked up to us and said, "Excuse me ladies." and began to reach into his shirt pocket. I half rolled my eyes, expecting some sales pitch on a calling card or something, but instead he pulled out a laminated card that stated he was a Policia (Police officer) and asked to see our documentation. My heart skipped about two beats and I started to pray. "Dear God, please let me have my passport." I did. I remembered that Laura (the MCC Bolivia connecting peoples person and all-round cool person) had said if we were ever approached by "policia" and asked for documents, we could give them the copies of our passports, but we had every right to refuse to go anywhere with them. That proved to be a very helpful piece of advice. ... Especially since these people were not actually real police.


Anyway, I showed him my passport and he read out my name. I was hoping that once he saw I was Canadian and had a right to be in the country, he´d let me go. He didn´t. Instead he said, "I´m afraid you´re going to have to come with me."

All my eye-type fluid flushed into my ear canals and I decided to get angry... well, not really angry... just a little angry. I stuffed my stuff back into my backpack (they were nice enough to point out some of my clothes on the sidewalk), swung it onto my back and said ¨No puedo.¨(I can´t).

The man continued on about something to do with having to take foreigners to their office for questioning. "It´ll only be 5 minutes," he said. At about this time a taxi pulled up and asked "Do you need a taxi?" to the fake police. They said, "yes."(... since when do police use taxis?).

"Please get into the taxi," the man said. I shook my head again, "No puedo." (I seemed to have forgotten how to say anything but "I can´t" in Spanish). The other lady tried to reassure me, "It´s OK, I have to go, too... There´ll be two of us females. You´ll be fine." 'What?!' I thought, 'You´re going along with this??' I was pretty scared at this point because I didn´t understand what to do. I prayed, "Dear God, please keep me safe."

Again the man tried to convince me to get into the taxi..."It´ll only take 5 minutes." I again said "I can´t!" Then another man showed up. I thought he was coming to help me... coming to see what the commotion was about. Nope... he was a "policia" too. He showed me a card quickly. I tried to look at it, but he wouldn´t let me... instead he gave it to the other lady and said, "It´s hers." Oh dear, I thought, she´s one of them, too! I´m in trouble.

Again they tried to get me to get in the taxi, telling me it would only be 5 minutes. I figured I was going to have to think of something better than "no puedo" to get out of this, so I said "No puedo!" a little firmer.

Man #1 asked why not. My chance! "My family," I said guestering towards my house... I tried to get them to understand that I was expected somewhere... that my family would miss me (although I don´t think they cared too much about that).

"OK," they said, "just get in the taxi, it will take 5 minutes and then we´ll take you to your house."

Throughout this exchange I focussed my attention on man #1... not on purpose, automatically... I think that helped me not feel so overwhelmed. And, since there was absolutely no way under any circumstance for any period of time was I ever getting in that taxi, I told him - very strongly (Yay Heidi!) - "NO." I was quite proud of myself as I became more and more frustrated and more and more angry.

"OK," I said, "let me call my family, OK?"

"Sure," they said, "just get in the taxi. It´ll only take 5 min and you can call your family after."

"No," I said, "Before!"

"Before?" They seemed confused... maybe they were starting to lose confidence... "Why don´t you get in the taxi and we´ll take you to your family after."

I was tired of their constant, obvious lies and was getting frustrated at having to make all these arguments to let them know that I didn´t believe them and that they weren´t going to get their way.

"No," I said feeling somewhat in control of the situation (perhaps that feeling was false... turned out alright, though), "Before!"

"Fine," they said. "OK." They were letting me make a phone call? "There´s a phone booth down there. Two blocks. No more! Two blocks!"

Yes! Finally! I planned on calling my host family and not going anywhere until they came to get me. I was so close to tears at this point. I was scared at what they might try to do to me, but I was also pretty mad and proud of myself for sticking up for myself so well (even if it was with very few words).

I started walking away and I thought man #2 was coming with me, but he stopped. I walked 2 blocks and didn´t see the phone booth. God was looking out for me, though, because those two blocks took me straight to the road that leads to my house. I looked back to where the policia had stopped me and I couldn´t see them, so I turned down my road and started walking to my house. If they followed me and asked what I was doing, I´d say I was looking for the phone booth. I was scared that they were in each taxi that passed me. But, they never were and they didn´t follow me. I don´t know why they didn´t follow me. Maybe they realized that they weren´t going to get the better of me, or maybe they were scared I was going to call the police instead of my family, or... I don´t know. But, I do know that God was taking care of me. I got to my house safely and my whole host family was amazing at comforting me and making sure I was OK. I felt very much loved.

...and that´s my story... hasta luego!