Leaving Colombia is Hard

Photo credit

No, I don't mean it was emotionally difficult; physically getting out of the country is difficult, or at least the process of getting through security is. Upon the advice of our wise friend Wojteich, we left for our 8:15am flight at 4:30 to get to the airport by 5:00am. It started off normal, an attendant helped us check into our flight (he even spoke English) and we proceeded to the line where we could check our bags. Another woman, who also spoke English then wanted to play 20 questions in regards to our luggage: Are you travelling alone? Who owns the luggage? Who packed the luggage? When was it packed? (Oops, lied on this one. I said they were packed the night before, but David packed his on Sunday! I'm now on the watch list.) Has it left our sight since it was packed? Any electronics? Have they been out of our possession for repair recently? Don't accept anything from anyone.  Keep your belongings with you.  Don't let them leave your sight.  Oh and have a nice flight. On to the ticket counter. After my luggage was weighed I was sent around the corner to some man behind a window (but David wasn't...) and the conversation there went something like this:

Man behind window: Cuando llegaste? (I thought he was asking when I was returning. Note to self: study Spanish verbs over break)

Me: Tres de Enero

Man behind window: Enero? Solo Diciembre...

Me: Oooooh sí, sí, Augusto

Man behind window: (shows me my immigration stamp that says July 31) Julio?

Me: ....Sí, 31 de Julio pero....que pena, comiencé trabajar en augusto

Man behind window: Tienes tu cedula de extranjeria?
Me: Si, aca
Man behind window: Es el Español, siempre tan difícil para usted?
Me: No. Pero es muy temprano y no duerme mucho, que pena. Gracias.

And so I returned to the original counter with a new stamp in my passport, the same David got from the woman AT the counter. Then we were asked if we'd sit in the exit row and agreed before we actually realized what she was asking us. Then we went down to the security checkpoint. Great news about security in Colombia, you don't have to take off your shoes. But they WILL feel you up and search your carry on bags thoroughly; I'd rather lose the shoes. I'm not kidding (I rarely do), female officer hands under my shirts and brushing the waistline of my yoga pants. Good morning to you too ma'am. And then the kind police officer went through both my carry on bags, asking questions, to which I had to respond each and every time with "como?" so he could repeat and I could get a second chance to understand. He opened my computer case and smelled my laptop, which was weird. Guess that's a common place to hide your cocaine? Just FYI: they know. And then he proceeded to go through my clothes bag and rifle through my belongings from extra coat and last minute packed purse down to my underwear (that I always hide at the bottom). After all, my grandparents did teach me to always pack the necessities in my carry on. Embarrassing, and slightly violating.

THEN we had to go to the emigration counter to get our passports looked at again and our fingerprints scanned, and our passports stamped again.  Sheesh.

Finally we were at our gate and after a two hour wait, ready to board.  But not before they randomly searched bags again (not ours thankfully) and asked yet again if I had accepted anything from anyone.  Apparently Blondie looks like a good target for drug traffickers.