Problems crossing the border from Guatemala to Honduras (cont’d from part 17)
The guard refused to budge on the issue. My companions were very nervous because they had depended on me to keep them out of trouble. At least they had their original passports!
Finally, the guard said she would allow them to pass, but not me. I kept telling her the bus driver had assured me there would be no problem when I had left Copán Ruínas that morning. She wanted to know the driver’s name. Geez, I didn’t know his name!! She just could not believe that I left Honduras with only a photocopy of my passport and that I had not stopped to clear Guatemalan immigration upon entering.
I knew I was a long way from a U.S. Embassy at this small checkpoint. Also, complicating things was that my family back home had no idea I was even in Guatemala.
I remember standing in the immigration office looking at the trees on the hill through the window and wondering if I would end up sleeping on the leaves until I could figure a way out of this jam. I also thought about making a dash for the border, but without knowing the consequences, I decided that was a foolish idea.
During all this time the guard kept asking me the same questions: what driver had told me it was ok to cross into Guatemala without an original passport? The answer from me was always the same: How do I know what his name was? We were just going around in circles.
Finally, I decided to swallow my pride…….and beg for forgiveness!! I explained I was just a student that didn’t know any better. I showed her my business card and told her I was a legitimate businessman. I may have even showed her my AAA card……..I’m not really too sure. I promised her I would never do this again. She finally just looked at me and said something like “get out of here”.
We walked quickly across the border which was about 50 yards away, no one saying anything to anyone else, never looking back. We all ducked under the road barrier at the same time.
Have to say, when I stepped across the border, I breathed one big sigh of relief. There was a mini bus waiting and the driver shouted for us to get on, he was leaving. I was not going to miss that bus and risk staying around.
We jumped on the mini bus and headed back to Copan.
Next-I will start giving you a perspective on the town of Copan Ruinas, Honduras.
Steve Barrymore firstname.lastname@example.org
To read about my other travels click here