South of the Border

Family Update

Greetings from Mexico! After and interminable drive, we made it in to Guasave, Sinaloa around 9:30 pm on Monday. The children were all wearing matching shirts upon which were the very appropriate words, "Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Are we there yet?" I thought about writing it on my shirt about eight hours into the drive. We only got lost twice. Here is a brief breakdown of the trip.

5:30 am – start loading all the luggage and missionary gifts into the truck; frequent stops needed to thaw hands and remove frostbitten skin; temperature 16 degrees F
6:30 am – eat breakfast
7:15 am – dress children and herd them into the truck; head out, all the while thinking, "I hope I didn’t forget anything!"

8:00 am – enter Nogales, border town of Arizona and Mexico

We thought at this point that we were in Mexico, but were still in the USA. We were trying to find the place where we were to get our tourist visas, driving permits, etc. We were flagged into a parking lot which we thought was the place to go. It was not. The man told us that he could not give us papers because our truck was too new. This was a very suspect piece of information, so we began to think that perhaps we were not in the right place. After sitting in the parking lot for five minutes, he told us that we owed him the fee for a full twelve hours parking. I was outraged at the gall of the man to flag us in, as if we were supposed to be there, when in fact, it was a shuttle bus agency, and then charge us for the whole day. We left in a hurry.

8:15 am – finally cross the border after driving through frighteningly narrow streets and twisting roads littered with worn-out vehicles and foolish tourists who walked into oncoming traffic with the brazenness of a Sherman tank

8:45 am – decide to turn around because we can’t find the "paper place"

It was at this point that we turned into a narrow curbed road, only to find that is was the wrong place. We had no recourse but to back up into oncoming traffic. This development greatly affected our prayer lives, as you can imagine. When we finally pulled into the right side of the lane, the truck skidded and slipped on a large patch of black ice. We clutched our respective "designated handholds" (aka steering wheel and dashboard) and hung on for dear life. Paul’s first comment was, "I told you they were sweeping up ice!"

9:15 - 9:45 am – sitting in line to get back into the USA

We figured we would go back in and find out where we were supposed to go to get our papers. It was at this point that we want to interject that no one we talked to knew where we were supposed to go. "Experts" in the States provided information that ranged from gross exaggeration to outright falsehood. The border official looked at us with disbelief, and then with a mixture of amusement and pity when we told him our story. He told us that we had to drive 21 kilometers to get to the permit station. We turned around and headed back into Mexico for the second time that morning, this time with great relief at finally knowing where we were to go, and anxiety at all the time and energy wasted already.

10: 15 – arrive at permit/visa place

Paul went in with all of our birth certificates, and truck title to secure a permit to stay in the country for two weeks. He came back out in a while with a frustrated look on his face. "They won’t accept my birth certificate." Once again, I was outraged, not only at the Mexican government, but also at the South Carolina government that issued the crummy, computer-generated birth certificate. Now what were we going to do? "You have to go in and fill out the paperwork," he said. As I stomped toward the building, papers in hand, I was thankful that he was the only one born in SC, where they resort to such idiotic ideas. I filled out the paperwork, jumping ahead of the retired couple in line in front of me. This was because they had been sent to the back of the line for not bringing their own pen. Really, the only things in the office were an employee, and TV, and a telephone. I loaned the couple one of my pens, and hurriedly filled in the information. I was then sent to another building to get the vehicle permit. When I handed them the truck title, things began to go bad. Paul’s name is on the title, not mine. My name is on the permit, not Paul’s. "Do you have a marriage license?" they asked. Of course, I do! It’s back in the green file at the trailer… " What about his birth certificate?" No – that won’t work either… I was getting upset. "Do you have one of your children’s birth certificates?" Yes, but what does that have to do with the price of rice in China? Whatever the reason, they accepted Josiah’s birth certificate in lieu of Paul’s. As I walked away from the counter, I resolved that our next big expenditure would be passports for the family. This idea was heartily seconded by Paul, who was already making plans as he sat in the truck with the wild and happy children.

10:45 am – finally, really, truly on our way
10;45 am – 1:00 pm – drive, drive, drive et. al. ad nauseum
1:00 pm – prepare lunch on the road (figuratively speaking); preparations momentarily delayed by carsick child in the back seat, vomiting up a glass of water
1:10 pm – devour lunch
1:20 pm – 7:15 pm – drive, drive drive et. al. ad nauseum; children figure out what their shirts say, and begin reading them
7:15 pm – stop at Pemex to get food and use "el bano"

Paul was rather nervous because of the loitering hoods in the gas station and wanted me to hurry – he told me when I got back to the truck that the hoods were probably afraid to cross me just because of the way I walked up to the store. Believe me, they would have been messing with the wrong tourist! With only two hours to go, now in the dark, we headed for Guasave like a barn sour horse!

9:00 pm – we are now in Los Mochis, having passed several check points, with armed guards

Some confusion over the map resulted in getting off the main highway and heading into the downtown area. Not good… the resulting terrors still haunt our dreams at night. "Turn this way – yes! That is the direction we need to go! Agh! This is not right!" This followed by more rabid driving (not ours alone). One lane streets turned into two by hurrying nationals who use their horns more than their turn signals. At one point, we were driving in a two lane street, and looked up to see a transit bus (going the opposite direction) pull into our lane to pass a slow moving police truck. As there was nowhere to go, we slowed down (I hid behind the map) and the bus careened around the police truck, who had no intention of slowing down or speeding up, missing us by too little for comfort. Whew! After a few more turnarounds, we pulled across an intersection only to find that the two-lane, bi-directional street had changed to a three-lane, one-way street! "Agh! Turn left! Turn left!" I screeched (nicely, of course). Paul had no other option but to follow my directions, since we had progressed too far into the intersection to turn right, and unlike earlier in the day, we could not back up, since there were several honking cars behind us. Finally, we found our way back to the highway, and made it to Guasave with no further incidents.

9:30 pm – pulled into the Watson’s, jumped out of the truck, and kissed the ground

They were glad to see us, of course, and the further adventures of our two families will be chronicled at a later date. Believe me, they are accumulating already. Jimmy is threatening to "pull the plug" on the computer if I tell about the slide race. Of course, I may not say anything about it, but just put a link to the video footage of the event! Tune in next time for "Adventures with Paul and Sarah!"