I guess Bolivia liked me, because it tried really hard to keep me from leaving.
On Tuesday, somewhere on the walk from the Mexican restaurant where we had lunch to the ice cream shop a few streets over in the city of La Paz, my wallet and phone were stolen from my purse. Inside my wallet was my driver’s license, all my cards, about 200 bolivianos (about $30), and my passport.
This means I was now 3 days out from my flight back to the US, with no passport or visa with which to leave the country.
We immediately go to the US Embassy in Bolivia (praise the Lord that there’s one in La Paz) and they tell me to come back the next morning, at 8:15.
Now I’ll recount the saga that ensued.
TUESDAY
The Embassy also told me that I needed to fill out and print 2 forms before I came in tomorrow. So, Regan and I go to a print shop and then she treated me to a Cinnabon, so I could eat my feelings.
WEDNESDAY
7:30 AM – My champion of a friend Regan and I leave our hostel for the US Embassy. While our driver yesterday found the Embassy no problem, our current driver got lost and took us to an official Brazilian building (not even the Brazilian Embassy) and told us to get out and ask for directions. We then told him no, to take us to the US Embassy and showed him a map. He took us a little farther, then told us to get out on a street corner and we then walked 3 more blocks to the embassy.
8:05 AM – We arrive at the embassy, and are told to wait to check in with the receptionist. All of this is outside by the way, because you can’t just walk into an embassy.
8:15 AM – The time I was supposed to be at the embassy to begin the process comes and goes.
8:30 AM – Reception checks me in, and we go through security (and fail, numerous times, because they wanted to take the strangest things out of our bags, like pens). But eventually, we make it to Window #8 where they told me to go for American Citizen Services.
8:45 AM – I am called up to the window to submit my paperwork, when I am informed of two things: 1) that the next two days (Thursday and Friday) are holidays, and if I don’t get everything squared away today, I will miss my 2:00 AM flight on Saturday morning, therefore stranding me in Bolivia, and 2) I can’t use the passport photos I brought with me on the trip because they were taken in July of last year before I left on my trip, and they can only be taken within the last 4 months.
9:30 AM – Reg and I leave the US Embassy to get new passport photos taken at the photo shop across the street. Can you tell which picture I had taken that day?
10:00 AM – We go back to the Embassy (we’re pros now and just basically empty our bags) and head to the window, where we are advised to go around the corner to pay for my emergency passport.
10:05 AM – My friend had given me his card to use (y’know, since all mine were stolen), but I couldn’t use it since he wasn’t there with me to sign, so Reg had to use hers.
10:10 AM – We meet a new friend at the window, who had spontaneously moved to Bolivia 5 years ago and now runs his own company here. He also had a great sense of humor and gave back to his community.
11:00 AM – I am called back up, and asked if I had my Driver’s License, to which I replied no, they literally stole all my ID and all I had was my photocopies of everything (yes, HIGHLY recommend you take photocopies of all important documentation and cards if you travel overseas). A couple moments later, I am handed my emergency issued passport (PRAISE!) but the adventure wasn’t over yet. I had to go purchase another visa ($160) from the Bolivian Consulate so that I could leave the country. But first, I have to go to the Bolivian Immigration Office. Luckily, the US Embassy is super prepared and helpful, and gave me a map to get there and a picture of what the building looks like.
11:05 AM – We leave the US Embassy and take a taxi to Immigration.
11:30 AM – After arriving at Immigration, we walk straight back to the Inspectors department with no problems. After explaining the situation, (in Spanish, no English speakers at Bolivian government offices) I fill out a small form, and am told about this mysterious Certificate of Visa that I need to get from the Consulate.
11:35 AM – Once outside Immigration, Regan and I finally have “breakfast,” AKA a snickers bar for her and a small bag of chips for me from a tienda right out front. We proceed to inhale our puny meal while sprinting uphill to the Consulate. (Keep in mind, we are currently at 12,000 feet elevation. It is very hard to breath literally always.)
11:45 AM – We ask the guard at the Consulate building where to go, and he points us to the building for the Ministry of External Relations, where inside a man tells us we have to go to the OTHER office for the Ministry of External Relations, and then kindly walks us there.
*This is when the day gets cray*
11:50 AM – We try to enter the building, and the guard tells us he will keep our passports here. I tell him no, you can’t do that, we need our passports, because we’ve been using Regan’s to show everyone what kind of Visa I had. He reluctantly complies. I’m learning I can be very persuasive, and when I stand my ground, I can make things happen.
We also can’t find the elevator to the 3rd floor (where the Consulate Office is) and a nice woman both helps and laughs at me, because I was gasping for air and told her “Lo siento, el altitud es el jefe,” which means, “I’m sorry, the altitude is the boss.”
11:55 AM – We meet the angel of this story, a woman, Salina, who worked as a receptionist in the office. She immediately is concerned for us, and tries to help, but tells us that their office doesn’t have time to help me today, and to go back to Immigration and talk to Alejandro, and to tell him to call their office.
12:30 PM – We arrived at Immigration for the second time today, but this time we get stopped by a guard on our way to Inspectorias Department. He wasn’t exactly very kind to me, and told me I would have to wait to talk to the man until 2:30 that afternoon (the governmental offices all close at 3:30 and I wasn’t confident that 1 hour would be enough time to get everything squared away). But nevertheless, I waited at that desk for 2:30 to come.
12:45 PM – I see the man who helped me the first time I came to immigration (who speaks a little English), walk by in the back, and called to him to come over. He ended up bringing out Alejandro, who said that he couldn’t do anything for me. I told him that the Consulate office told me to tell him to call them. He said he wouldn’t do that. I said again, the Consulate told me, to tell you, to call them, and by the grace of God he goes “okay, I’ll call them,” and walks back to his office. He comes back a few minutes later, and tells me I have to write a letter to the consulate asking for this “Certificate of Visa,” printed out, in Spanish, and to speak to another man, Gorge, at the Consulate office when I go (spoiler alert: I never meet Gorge). Before leaving, Alejandro implores me not to go to the Consulate before 2:30, and I couldn’t help myself, I ask, “okay, fine, I’ll wait, but why?” He simply replies “we have lunch.”
1:00 PM – Regan and I find a print shop and write out my letter to the Consulate, then we go to Burger King for our first real meal all day (we were stressed and craving American food, okay? Don’t judge…)
2:00 PM – Our taxi arrives at the Ministry of External Relations building for a second time that day, and I walk in to go to the Consulate office. The guard working at reception sees us and tells us “You have to wait until 2:30!!” I’m thinking “I KNOW I WON’T DISTURB YOUR LUNCH I PROMISE,” but I just tell him I will wait here, across from him, if that’s okay, and he looks at me confused but shrugs and lets us wait inside.
2:15 PM – Salina comes back from lunch and sees us, and she immediately looked so concerned, and asked “did you get everything figured out?” I told her no, and started to explain what Alejandro had said, and she interrupts and says to the guard “can they come with me? GREAT!” and motions for us to follow her to the Consulate office. #favor! Megan Small doesn’t wait until 2:30!
3:45 PM – We finally arrive back at the hostel. At the Consulate, Salina was SO helpful, and she definitely fought for me to get helped. She was running back and forth in the office (in heels) to get my Certificate of Visa (on which they spelled my name “Megam Rae Small,” that’s a new one). We even met the Director of the Consulate, who gave us his card “in case I had any trouble at customs when I tried to leave Bolivia,” and told us to friend him on Facebook or WhatsApp him. We offered for his daughter to stay with us if she ever came to the States. These people fought so hard for me to be able to leave the country with my friends, and were so kind and encouraging the whole time, telling me “wait a little longer, we are taking care of it!” When Salina handed me the Certificate she looks me very seriously in the eyes and said “Don’t. Lose. These.” And Regan said it best when she said, “yeah, she’s definitely a mom.”
The Director told me “this is all you need! You won’t have to pay anything else.” I whispered to Regan, “WAIT, we didn’t pay that extra $160 for a new visa, did we?!” and she replied “no, I would’ve had to pay for it and we definitely didn’t.” A HUGE blessing in the middle of all the storm I found myself in. I also had a friend offer to pay for the fee for the emergency passport. Throughout this whole process, God showed me that I am worth taking care of, and He wants to do that through the people who love me.
I asked if I could hug Salina, because I saw Jesus move through her that day. She had been his hands and feet, advocating on my behalf, standing in the gap for me, even telling the Director “it helps if you speak slowly to her” because she knew I’m not THAT great at Spanish. She loved us through service, and went above and beyond what was required of her to help a stranger. I am so grateful to have crossed paths with her. I was so touched by her compassion, and it just reminds me to have compassion on others, when they find themselves in difficult situations.
So today, I am flying home with my Squad! I am not stranded in Bolivia. I will be Stateside in less than 24 hours. And that is the story of how I was robbed, ran all over a foreign city, speaking Spanish the whole way, to receive an emergency passport and visa to come home. USA, you should feel loved, I have fought hard to return to you!
A Prayer Request:
On my phone, I had bunches of notes where I processed through grief, including a note of “Momeries,” memories about my mom, which is now completely gone, because I don’t use the iCloud (I’ve now learned my lesson.) Please pray for me to remember all that was lost!
PS: I couldn’t ask for a better friend in Regan, who sacrificed her whole day at Debrief to keep me company, help me, spot me since I had no way to access my funds, and comfort me throughout this wild ride. Thanks Regs! Love you lots <3
