The Peru Chronicles - Living in Interesting Times

There is a saying, ¨the enemy of my enemy is my friend.¨ The converse is also true, the enemy of my friend is my enemy...

Dedication:

To Paty - for her fearless determination to protect her husband

To Coco - for his bravery and willingness to put himself in harm's way for our sake

To Paola - my personal lawyer, our family lawyer, and Coco's girlfriend - always ready to help us with all the complicated problems we face here

12-27-05

Coco and I had been arguing war and peace, international politics, domestic and foreign trade policy and national and global economics all morning. At times he irritated me so much, and I irritated him so much, that we were almost shouting at each other. Every now and then, when my blood presure could take no more "everyone says that..." I would explode with a profanity and a loud, "don't be stupid!" To which, from the kitchen would come, "Jason, calm down." We were having fun. Every time I was thrashing his arguments he changed the subject, and I would thrash him again.

Around noon today three "immigration police" showed up at our door. They said that they were searching for a foreigner - a foreigner who's name they didn't know. But somehow, perhaps by divine revelation, they knew he was "living" in Paty's house. When they saw me, they tried to ask me questions. Paty immediately jumped in front of me, yelling "don't tell them anything, they aren't police, they just delinquents!" They were not wearing any kind of uniform, and they were driving a junky little Ford Fiesta. When we demanded that they show us the order (which their leader was waving around in the air) they refused. When we demanded that they identify themselves, they refused. Paty insisted on seeing their "order", and started to lunge toward their leader, screaming at him to give her the document. I grabbed her before she could touch him and drug her back into the house. At this moment I felt two emotions, fear and rage. A rage like I've never felt before because I knew where this was going and where it came from. I was so furious that I slammed the door so hard that the latch couln't take hold, and I had to slam it again.

After dragging Paty back in the house I told her that to call the police. She tried, but the line was busy! So I told her to find the phone number for the American Embasy in Lima. Meanwhile, Coco went outside to try to find out what they wanted.

They insisted that they needed to inspect my immigration documents. They didn't know my name, but they were very insistent that the knew there was a foreigner living in the house, and that I must present my passport. Coco refused to give them my name. Since they were already acting illegally, they didn't dare complicate matters by forcing their way in. So they issued an order to appear at the police station to present documents. And since they didn't know the name of the person to whom they were issuing the order, Coco gave them his name. After getting in a shouting match with them, Coco came back inside and took pictures of them and kept them under surveilance.

Meanwhile, Paty got the embasy's number from someone and I called them. I was patched through to American Citizen's Services, and then connected to the consul's office. I explained the situation briefly to a very nice lady and gave her my phone number because my phone card was almost used up. She said she would call me back if it cut off. It did. So I waited a while, figuring that she was looking into the matter. In the mean time the District Attorney and several more police showed up.

Coco was outside talking to them. They insisted that all they wanted to know was my name and to "see" my passport to be sure that I am not here illegally. (Hey, now there's a twist! Peruvian officials trying to make trouble for me because they suspect that I am an "illegal alien." And here I was under the naive impression that only brown-skinned people who speak Spanish could be "illegal aliens." I guess I'll have to update our local talk-show hosts - I'm sure they didn't realize this either.) Coco refused to give them any information. Finally, they decided to issue a summons, but still they didn´t have my name. Coco gave them his and returned to the house with the summons. The summons was issued in Coco´s name ordering him to appear at five that evening and present his immigration papers. It was rediculous on its face!

I was finally able to talk to the consul in Lima, Charles Smith. He told me that he had never heard of Peruvian immigrations officials performing ¨routine¨ inspections of unnamed gringos. However, he also said that they do have a right to review my documents to be sure that I am here legally, and therefore I should comply. I gave the consul the details of the summons, and we found the phone numbers of the local police stations. He called and was able to talk to a captain in the local precinct. According to the consul, this guy knew all about the matter. Also, the consul said that the captain definitely was scared by the call from the consul - which was exactly what we had hoped for. The captain told the consul that I should appear as scheduled and ask specifically for him - that he would attend to the matter. Then I proposed sending my lawyer (Coco´s girlfriend Paola) - which he liked very much.

Finally, Paola arrived. I explained everything to my lawyer, and showed her the summons. Then she left to research the law that they cited, and to appear in my stead. She took no documentation with her except the summons. The strategy was that, since they didn´t know my name, why give it to them. Clearly, once they had it, whoever was responsible for this incident, could get my full name and press false charges against me. She returned several hours later to tell us what happened at the police station.

To be continued...

// posted by Jason y Paty @ 3:21 PM