Bribing Policemen

Corruption runs right though Central America. Is it wrong? Definitely. But can it be justified? Probably. It’s not for me to judge but I have had to learn how to deal with it when it leapt up and confronted me in the face. In particular, I have learnt effective strategies for dealing with corrupt policeman. More concisely, as rich western expats living in a country where the averages wage is less than a quarter of ours, we have developed our own “Bribery etiquette” which include when to bribe, how to bribe and most importantly how not to bribe.

The most important and really only rule of the so-called “bribery etiquette” is don’t speak Spanish. Ever. Not even the innocuous “hola”. There seems to be a direct relationship between the amount of Spanish you speak and the amount of money you pay; principally, the more you speak, the more you pay. The reason behind this is quite clear. The average corrupt policeman wants your money but at limited cost and effort. If you cannot understand that he is asking you for nor the “crime” you have committed, how can you possibly pay the “fine”?

This worked particularly well in Honduras when a policeman was attempting to extract money out of Marek and myself for not possessing the regulation triangle and fire extinguisher in our car. After five minutes of blank faces while he futilely repeated the word “triangulo” at different speeds and volumes, he gave up and waved us on. Luckily, he didn’t speak enough English to realize that “triangulo” is rather similar to its English equivalent.

It has be said, however, that despite being told on arrival to El Salvador that we should never speak Spanish to policemen here, we learnt this rule the hard way. On the same trip through Honduras (which was actually only a 2 hour drive through the country on the way to Nicaragua) we were stopped 5 times. Yes, 5 times in 2 hours. And by the time we arrived at the border we were $10 lighter as we had failed to follow the “Bribery etiquette” rules.

The first of five stops was because Marek wasn’t wearing his seat belt. (he couldn’t as the mechanic had trapped it under his seat).We were clearly in the wrong. But so were the other 80% of drivers on the road. Our white faces had obviously turned the cops’ eyes into flashing dollar signs. He demanded $30 that had to be paid there and then. In Spanish, I refused and I said I would happily pay the fine in the police station. Of course, that offer was refused and the “fine” was swiftly reduced to $10 if we would pay there and then and require no documentation. We paid it. But what really bugged me later was would we had to have paid anything at all if we hadn’t ‘understood” the traffic offence?

Yet, like all defenses and plans, there are also flaws and the “Spanish-mute plan” is no exception. A couple of weeks ago we were stopped coming back from the beach and we couldn’t produce our “tarjeta” which is the documentation for the ownership of the car (Marek had accidentally left his wallet at home complete with the tarjeta). This is a real traffic offense but the “policeman” appeared to be off duty. They had no official documents with them and they began recording our details on the first scrap of paper they had encountered in their pockets. So while I stayed silent, Marek attempted to deal with them in English. After a while, the police realized that they weren’t getting anywhere with Marek and turned their attention to me. They asked, “Do you speak Spanish?” Of course, I said no. Yet, they kept on asking and asking me the question, “Do you Spanish? Do you speak Spanish?” until it turned into a more accusatory, “You speak Spanish, You speak Spanish.” Only then it dawned on me that they had stopped us before. The plan was ruined; they knew I understood the situation perfectly and the only thing I could do was still insist I knew no Spanish. It came down to a battle of the wills. They won. We drove away from that confrontation $10 lighter. $10 that went straight into their pockets.

When it comes down to it, we might have lost $20 to corruption so far but at least it is corruption at an individual level and if that money goes to feed their families rather than feed a system of corruption, I’ll pay. Especially if they wave their guns about.

Views from Earth lodge

Christmas goats

The goat shit bingo game.

Go goat go, you are in my space, drop your load and win me a prize!

Montecristo

These are photos from Montecristo which is a national park in El Slavador. We climbed up El Triunfo, which apart from being the second biggest peak in El Salavdor is also a peak where honduras, Nicaraagua and El Salvador meet. Therefore, we were standing in all three countries at the same time! The tree is a love tree as it has a heart on it and the male tree and woman tree are joined in a rather compromisng position!

Isla Menaguera in the Gulf de Fonseca

These are images from Isla Menaquera which is in the Gulf of Fonseca and overlooks Nicaragua and Honduras. It was disputed terrority for a long time but El Salvador won the rights to it in the 90s. Yet, the island is so close to Honduras they watch only Honduran TV. To get there we had to take this cramped boat by 10am in the morning but to get back we had to get the 5am boat as there is only one a day! Even our adopted pet, Achiles got a ride. We did see amazing sunsets and we saw dolphins swimming alongside the boat so getting up at 5am was worth it in the end.

Exploding Navidad

It’s the 9th January and I am back to school. Christmas and New Year are faint memories in the recent past. Yet the lack of snow or general coldness made the events seem dreamlike and unreal. I could almost believe they didn’t happen. Only almost though. The relics of the Christmas adornments still cling desperately to the walls of houses and the huge Santa hat still sits on Multiplaza, one of the shopping malls reminding me that it is time to return to the joy of nine to five, or seven to three as it is for me.

Christmas in Latin America is certainly a different affair to the traditional English occasion. Firstly, it starts earlier. I didn’t think it was possible for Christmas to start earlier than it did in the UK apart from, of course, in the USA Yet, as El Salvador is the USA’s biggest fan, they follow the rule that decorations in Mid October are not immorally wrong but aesthically pleasing. They certainly follow the adage that more is better. Most trees appear to be bending over from the weight of the lights they now carry. If you could electrocute a tree, they would be ashes by now.

Since October we have been subjected to Christmas overload. Counts jobs have been created due to the Christmas season. Yet, unlike England, these are not extra sales jobs to cover the shopping rush. No, these are jobs where the applicants have one sole purpose, to stand and guard the bright, sparkly yet unbelievably overpowering decorations. From theft. This is particularly true on roundabouts which have lost their traffic purpose in order to blind the passing drivers with their dazzling lights. The sight of an armed guard in the middle of roundabout with huge automatic rifle scowling at passerbys who dare to daze at the lights is certainly not uncommon. Are the guards needed? Of course. Christmas lights are big business here, the flashier the better.

Yet, even they are surpassed by the fascination with fireworks. Since October not a night went gone by without hearing the exploding bangers in the distance. It culminated in a massive display on Christmas Eve at midnight where it seemed if it obligatory for every house to take apart. This was shortly encored by New Year Eve who banged and shook the city for at least 30 minutes around midnight. The poor dog we were looking after climbed into our bookcase to take shelter from the noise.

For a religious country, El Salvador might seems far too preoccupied with Santa, lights, fireworks and plastic snowmen, which like the real ones do in fact melt by the hot hot sun than the true religious icons of the festive season. Yet, their saving grace are the nacimientos which fill the food court every shopping centre and the lounge, of nearly if not all houses. The big problem of the nacimientos is that Jesus is missing. Yes, the crib is empty. They sit from October to December in the malls with Mary, Joseph, The three wise men and the various animals that must have been in the manager which according to the El Salvadorians include Giraffes, Elephants and lions without Jesus. That is, until Midnight on Christmas Eve when families help Jesus “pop out” of Mary while they consume their Christmas feast and simultaneously set off the fireworks in attempt to create the effect of erupting volcano. .. or to encourage one of the volcanoes to erupt. I am not sure which one.

The only thing that seems more important than Christmas is the upcoming mayoral election which is slowly turning the country red, white and blue, the colours of ARENA, El Salvador’s USA backed, very conservative government. Every rock, post, pole, house and building will be painted red, white and blue long due the judgment day in March. In fact, most of them are already done. I wouldn’t be surprised if they start colouring in people when they run out of rocks and walls to paint. Rather than campaigning it is political graffiti in permanent paint. At least, it doesn’t waste paper.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed your English Christmas experience, my mum’s picture of Sausages and stuffing certainly made me year for it even if it was to escape the fairy light town I still live in, the el Salvadorians have made no attempt to take the decorations down, for a while.