Crossing the line...

When you cross borders down here it can be quite the event ranging from pretty easy if you are in an executive coach company that will take care of the border crossing by getting all the paperwork done when you board, to crossing the line on your own. It also depends on which line you are crossing and which way you are going, seriously it’s different going from Costa Rica to Panama then from Panama to Costa Rica The line between C.R. and Nicaragua is border crossing chaos with people everywhere, policia, transito policia and coyotes { the horde of money changers}. People leaving and coming, coming and going and people not going anywhere. The coyotes  are like fleas with a big wad of notes in one hand and the coyote calculator in the other. One gives them currency from one country and they quickly do their numbers on the calculator and show you the exact sum that they are happy to give you. Except most of the time the cc is fixed so that they are actually giving you 10% less but they show you the all mighty calculator like  electronics don’t lie. Bancos are a pain in the ass but at least you get a valid rate. Be prepared to walk though the coyote crowd ready to throw out a “largate” "piss off" to the most ardent currency rat.
The most important part is being drogas and dinero clean. no drugs, no shitload of money and no false bottom briefcases. The crossing from Panama to C.R. has a lot of scrutiny. Now I’m not stupid so I always make sure when I cross any line that I’m the perfect law abiding citizen whether it’s crossing the line into Northern Ireland or back into Costa Rica on the way from Panama. A dozen passengers on Nature Air’s godawful early morning flight to San Jose from Bocas and I was probably the oldest person on the flight and definitely the one with a shitload of tattoos. We landed at Tobias which is the redheaded {sorry Katy K.} stepsister of the internacional aeroporto. There were the officials waiting for this little plane with 4 policia, 4 customs and a dog and handler. Now I know HST is gone and wasn't on the flight but I has just finished reading Cocaine Nation as I have ranted so was pretty cool about the whole thing and ore concerned how I was going to get to Jaco and confidently innocent. We single filed to immigration while our bags waited for us to bring them through customs. the young handler had the dog all over our luggage and I start looking at all the other passengers trying to figure out who is the big narco smuggler bringing shit back from Bocas? Then the dude brings the dog over to us and he lets the dog go around my legs and then between them. I don't make a move for the dog, no nice little pero pat just ignore the dog. Now I'm a clean line crosser so I'm getting a little pissed that this is silly and is it because of my tattoos? I'm just an old guy traveling on the road and having a ball so don't profile my ass. Through immigration adn the my backpacks and bag through the xray machine and now it's wait a minute let's look in your stuff. They look at my little Buddha which has a hole in it's terra cotta bottom and the dude's trying to figure out if it's a pipe or something but then they strike pay dirt or at least that's what they think. They find my 66 year old guy with medical issues like high BP, arthritis and start questioning me about the meds. Uh oh, pain meds, pain meds that I got over the counter in C.R. from the hospital and Dr Mandosa for legit reasons. OK maybe I had more than he prescribed but they were over the counter so wtf? The world stopped, three more officials showed up and 'm just trying to get to Montezuma which they affectionately call Montefumar so it's sort of like bringing coals to Newcastle or a hooker to a whorehouse. "No,no,no you can't have these senor unless you have a prescription!" So I whip out my Mass General Shoulder center letter from the chairman of the department stating the I'm basically a one armed paperhanger on narcotics so it's OK, si? No I wind up opening my shirt, showing them the scar splaining that you hand the Rx {prescription in pharmacy/medical talk} and they give you the meds and keep the prescription paper. You fucking dolt! But I didn't say that and then finally after the dog had another go around with my stuff they must have thought this poor old gringo is so lame and the head {no pun intended but he had a huge one}custom policia said that he will let it go this time, like there is going to be a repeat of this farce? Off I go to Jaco to party for the night and then the sloppy boat ride to MZ.
Five days later I go into a small plastic carryout bag that i had put my concentrated laundry soap and shaving cream in and in the bottom of the bag is the little plastic envelope that a friend had given me in Bocas with a small bud for Red Frog Beach one day. Holy shit, dumb dog and lucky guy, who didn't know he crossed the line when he crossed the line. Just saying. TmyO...