Pam and Bethany’s Big Panama Adventure, Part II

So after getting back to the hotel from the police station, we parted ways at the elevator. We make the plan for Pam and Bethany to wake me up at 7:00. We’ll have breakfast, get to the police station at 8 to get the passport back, and hopefully put an end to this ordeal. I stayed up and did the poker grind for a couple more hours before finally turning in.

Next morning, my room phone rings, and it’s Pam. She says that it’s about 7, and they were going to come down in a few after getting ready. I groggily acknowledge and hang up. In my half-dazed sleepy stupor, I caught a glance at my cel phone laying close to my head on the bed. I notice that it says that it’s only TEN AFTER SIX!!! What the??? I call Pam back and curtly tell her that it’s only about six, we still have an hour! She shamelessly responds to that saying that they didn’t have a clock, and she just assumed it was close to seven! They had been using Bethany’s Itouch as the alarm clock and it was obviously no longer in her possession. I grunt and hang up, thinking that I have some snooze time.

Twenty minutes later, they’re at my door, dressed and ready to go. I’m standing at the door with my sleeping shorts and bedhead, wondering what the hell these guys are doing to me. What did I do to deserve this??? I need some more sleep! They say they’ll wait with me in the room, while I get ready. Great, now there’s NO snooze time.

I jump in the shower, now that my extra sleepy-time has been sadistically stolen from me. After I’m ready against my own freewill, I call over to the police station to have them pick us up like they said they would the night before. The officer who answers says that they’re not quite ready for us and that we should call them in two more hours. I tell them that’s no good because they have to be at the airport at noon, and two hours from now is 10 AM, which is just cutting it too close. We need to get the passport from them now, just like the lieutenant promised the night before. He puts me on hold, comes back on the line and tells me ok, call back in one hour.

I curse myself as I got off the cel phone. I KNEW I should have been more of a jerk about getting the passport back last night. Knowing what I know about how things work (or don’t work) in Latin America, I really was afraid that this was going to happen. I tell Pam that we’ll go get breakfast, get a cab and just go directly to the police station. That’s the only way I can see us getting the passport back, to be there demanding it.

After breakfast, we jump in a cab and head to Casco Viejo. We get to the tourist police station just a little before nine. The desk sergeant sees us coming to the door, and walks out to meet us. We tell him why we’re there, and we need the passport. Now. He shrugs and says that the passport isn’t there anymore, but they took it over to the courthouse office place where Pam and Bethany filed the original report. They’re the only ones who can release it.

I’m looking at the cop rather flabbergasted, reiterating to him that we were PROMISED by the lieutenant last night that we would have the passport back by 8AM, an HOUR AGO. I then asked him what was the status of the “investigation” and where was the suspect? He said that they released him the night before, and they didn’t think they were going to get anything else back. Now things were getting a little tense.

The cop tells us all we have to do is go to the other office, and they will have some paperwork ready for Pam and Bethany to sign, and they’ll get the passport back. He tells us that they don’t have the “authority” to just give the passport back, it has to be done through proper channels. I told him that I found it VERY difficult to believe that the lieutenant didn’t tell us anything about this process the night before. So we then ask if there’s a car that can take us there so we don’t have to do another taxi ride. He shakes his head, saying that there are no cars available, and we’ll have to taxi it out there. This just keeps getting better.

After we get the taxi, we head to the offices where Pam and Bethany filed the report. We noticed that there was a group of demonstrators huddled outside the main entrance. Apparently workers at the courthouse want higher pay, and they were organizing to get it. We sneak through the group of workers, who are now clapping and chanting “UNIDAD! UNIDAD!”. There was a tv crew there, and we saw the footage on TV later that morning at the next police station we went to (wait for it).

Once inside the building, I found a receptionist and told her the situation. We handed her the copy of the report, and told her we needed to get the recovered passport back asap. She went over to an office in the back, and comes out a few minutes later to tell us that the passport is not in their office. Rather, it’s with the police who arrested the fat-oaf-extortionist guy and transferred him to the police station by Panama Viejo, where the crime allegedly occurred. It was not even 9:30 and I was already out of patience. I told her what the tourist police told us, and that we needed to get this passport back RIGHT NOW. She disappeared again, I think she was just trying to hide from us at that point.

Meanwhile, Pam recognized the lady who served as the translator while they wrote up the police report the day before. She asked her if she can help. She was on her way to an important meeting, but took a few minutes to find out what was going on. She found her supervisor, who supposedly knew the situation and told us we were in good hands with him. He told us that he had been told by the police that they had gotten the whole purse, and they were holding it where the suspect was being held. This was very confusing, because the cop at the tourist police told us exactly opposite. That they didn’t get anything else back, and that they released the guy! In short, we had to go there and he would arrange it. He lined up a car and driver, and off we went to the other police station, with him along to see how he can help.

Along the way, he told us that he had nothing but bad experiences with the tourist police. He said that they do absolutely nothing right, they’re poorly trained, and get paid less than regular police. It was odd, because it seemed like they were friendly enough, but I can see how they can be viewed as useless. Especially if they don’t even know if a suspect is in custody or not.

We arrive at the other police station in a part of Panama City called Parque LaFevre. We get there thinking that this whole thing will take a short time and we’ll be out of there. That’s what we were hoping at least. We get to the office where the translator supervisor leads us and tells us to have a seat. Pam immediately chimes in saying that they need to get to the airport by 12 if they are going to make their flight. I already told her that if her flight left at 3pm, she really doesn’t have to get there until 1-1:30 pm to check in. It’s a little later, but that’s not much consolation.

After an hour and a half of sitting in this waiting room, watching bad Mexican and Colombian soap operas, and news footage of the demonstration we just walked through an hour before, we go over and ask the translator guy what was up. Why is this taking so long??? He shrugs and says that they’re just waiting for the police to bring the stuff over from the tourist police office in Casco Viejo. HUH?? We were just there, and they told us that they didn’t have the passport anymore! They said it was transferred to the courthouse office, and then this guy said it was at the other police station we were at right now. This was beyond insane. Where is the passport? Does anybody really know? All we can do is wait, he said. He was definitely trying to help but just didn’t know what else to do.

Pam and Bethany are getting restless. She calls the airline to find out what the situation will be if they miss their flight. Maybe they can get on a later flight? The airline tells her that all the flights are booked until three days later. And, to add insult to injury, they would have to pay penalties of at least $300 per person. Pam is in tears, and saying that they just have to get on their flight at 3pm. Bethany’s a wreck at this point too, probably wondering why the hell she even came to Panama in the first place.

It’s now just before noon, and it’s just too close to the time they can safely check in, and nothing is happening. I decide it’s time to call the US Embassy. Luckily, I had a guest onboard not that long ago who works at the embassy, so I called for her. Monica, who works in the State Department, was very gracious and transferred me right through to the right office. After telling the embassy official about the situation, she said that under no circumstances were they supposed to hold the passport without notifying the embassy first. And even then, the embassy has the right to tell them to give the passport back. She said she’d get on the phone with the police right away and call me back.

In the meantime, I called the tourist police again, and told them that they really screwed up with this passport situation. They needed to fix this now. And we needed to know WHERE THE DAMN PASSPORT REALLY WAS! The officer said it was in an envelope sitting on his desk. I thought I was going to have a stroke right then and there. They still haven’t left to deliver it to us??? I told him in no uncertain terms and in the best spanish I can must that they need to get the passport back to us RIGHT FUCKING NOW. The officer answered back that they were taking care of it, and they would have it there right away. I didn’t sound too convinced, but I suspect that he officer at least knew that I was really pissed.

Two minutes after I hang up with the tourist police officer whose eardrum I just blew a hole in, my cel goes off. It’s the embassy official. She said that she was successful in finding out who had the passport and that they were expediting the passport in a squad car to the police station where we were at as we spoke. It was getting close to 1pm, so Pam and I made the plan that I would go get their bags at the hotel, and meet them back at the police station. They would wait there to receive the passport, sign whatever they need to sign in order to save time. I told Pam to call me every few minutes and keep me apprised of what is happening while I’m gone.

I run out to the street grab a cab, and I’m on my way to the hotel in Calidonia. The driver does good time and I’m there a hair before 1pm. I ask the driver if he can run me right back to the police station after I get the bags from the hotel, to which he says no. So I pay him, run out to the street and try to land another cab.

In Panama City, the cab drivers will only take you if you’re going somewhere THEY want to go. If they don’t feel like driving to a part of town that you want to go to, or have to deal with traffic, you’re screwed. I’ve never been anywhere else in the world where cab drivers pull this shit. But they ALL do it in Panama City.

After four or five tries to get someone to take me back to the police station, I decide that it’s better that I just go straight to the airport. I’m assuming Pam will call me and I’ll just tell her I’m on the way to the airport. The very next taxi I hail down is more than glad to take me to the airport, considering it’s a juicy fare. I tell him to wait, I run up and grab their bags out of the room. I’m off to Tocumen International. Airport, the time is now about 1:10pm.

On the way to the airport, I found myself cussing at my cel phone. Why isn’t Pam calling me?? Did they even get the passport yet?? I need to tell her I’m heading to the airport so if they did, they can just hightail it there. The minutes felt like HOURS during this time.

Finally, about 1:25, the cel rings, it’s Pam. I tell her I’m on the way to the airport with their bags, just to go straight there. And hurry up! She says they’re on their way. I get to the airport, run to the airline counter to tell the airline agent what is happening, and that two more passengers were on their way. It was now about 1:45, and he basically said if they got there any later than 2pm, he wouldn’t be able to do anything to get them on the flight.

Again, minutes seemed like hours. Where the hell were they?? I call the phone number from where Pam called me at the police station to find out what the hell was going on. She tells me that they had left about 15 minutes earlier and should be there shortly. Minutes were going by meanwhile.

Pam and Bethany come scrambling into the terminal with literally no time to spare. By my watch, it’s 1:58pm. They go to the counter to check in the bags and get their boarding passes. The agent I talked to basically does a “whew, just in time” gesture to me as they’re being checked in.

After they get their boarding passes, Pam starts running for the gates. I slow her down and remind her that they don’t need to hurry anymore. They’re on the flight. They made it. Despite this, Pam and Bethany start beelining to the security checkpoint, almost without saying goodbye. I remind them I can’t go through the checkpoint, so we say our goodbyes and I see them off. The whole thing was FINALLY over.

On the way to getting a cab back to town, I realized that I will have just spent over $30 on cabs getting Pam’s luggage to the airport. Not to mention all the other cab rides in town, while chasing this damn passport. Oooh, she owes me big. 😛