One of my favorite and most ridiculous memories comes during my trip to Bolivia. I was in grad school and asked my boss if I could participate in his study abroad program to Bolivia just after I graduated. I went as the oldest participant as the rest were undergrads, with my boss and his wife who had been my internship supervisor. I didn't speak a word of Spanish but it was one of the best experiences I've had. You can read through monkeytalestravels.blogspot.com for more Bolivian adventures!
So...my passport. In the Summer of 2008, my fellow Boliviano Trip colleagues and I made the trek to Cochabamba, Bolivia where we would spend the next 2 1/2 weeks. It took us 3 flights and over 30 hours of travel to get to our destination. When we got there we were told to just put our stuff down and we were off for a day of adventures. After some excitement that day we headed to a Brazilian cafe to finish off our night.
I put my bag between my legs and enjoyed a nice conversation with my colleagues. I was sharing about my tattoos and started talking about my mama and when I went to grab my locket to show them her photo...I realized my bag had been stolen. I could share all of the could'ves, should'ves and would'ves but that won't turn back time. We think it happened when a woman came up to us to sell us something and wouldn't take "No gracias" for an answer...i just got too comfortable. It was stupid, but I was tired and wasn't thinking clearly.
Inside my bag was...my passport, my airline tickets, $, my debit card and checkbook, my phone, car and house keys and my locket from my father as a graduation gift with a photo of my parents in it. Despite our looking, especially by my boss Jim but it was clear it was gone for good.
So that evening, Kimber, our amazing translator, Jim and I went to the police station to file a police report that we needed to get a new passport. The taxi driver dropped us off with pleas to stick together fearing for our lives. He told us that we would need to walk down the street to get a taxi when we were done as none would pick us up where we were. We learned later it was a very dangerous part of town.
We walked into a very sketchy building that just had a counter and a man behind it smoking and reading the paper. He wouldn't speak to us but rather pointed us around another building showing us to walk through the very dark and scary alleyway. Kimber went first, then I did, then Jim did. All the while...really nervous. Bolivia...has an unusual amount of stray dogs who were barking and staring at us at this point. It definitely felt like the setting for a nice Stephen King novel.
We walked into a plain room
with just a small table, two plastic lawn chairs, a bench and a tv which was
currently playing a dark and scary horror movie. We sat and waited for
the officer to be ready for us as he finished his cigarette and in
walked this guy...who was covered in blood from head to toe. All over his face, shirt and
pants and his pants were torn as well. I had to laugh when he walked in
and sat directly next to Kimber. 
He was incredibly calm and just sat there patiently waiting his turn as if he wasn't completely and utterly covered in blood. Add in a little light flicker and it would be a scene out of the movie Hostel!
He was incredibly calm and just sat there patiently waiting his turn as if he wasn't completely and utterly covered in blood. Add in a little light flicker and it would be a scene out of the movie Hostel! When
it was our turn to share my story with the plain clothed officer, Kimber translated. Dude just wrote
directly into a journal...no computer...just a spiral notebok. It felt
very weird and not what I was expecting. The officer never turned off the tv where we had just seen someone's
skull bashed in but rather...just turned it down! It was absolutely
insane and truly kind of hysterical. When he finished taking my statement, he went into another room and we waited calmly with Bloody Man at our side. I saw the officer writing in another notebook and didn't think much of it until 20 minutes later when he came back with another sheet of lined paper that contained my written statement that we both had to sign.
After a while we were set to go
with instructions to come back the next morning. He told us to go
outside in front of the building and wait for a cab. We stood out there a
little bit petrified and a little bit goofy. We waited for at least 45
minutes to get a taxi and it was totally sketchy. No one would pick us
up! We finally got back to the hotel around 2 or 3am grateful we had made it through our little adventure safely!
Over the next couple of days thanks to my boss and his kindness...we were able to get new airline tickets and Jim took me to the US Embassy to get my temporary passport. While I was there the not so kind woman behind the desk with a severe face and frown, asked condescendingly if I had even tried to find my bag. "Did you put an ad in the paper? Did you put up signs in the neighborhood?" "Ummm....No ma'am...I didn't think that would be helpful, but here is my statement I got from the police station." I said smiling. She didn't think I was charming. I got a very stern lecture about selling passports on the black market. See, my passport had been stolen once before in Italy, so my credibility was a little shot. She made me sign a document understanding that if I should lose or have my passport stolen again, I would never be issued another passport again. The rest of the trip was absolutely incredible mixed with a severe case of food poisoning for my housemates and myself, the cutest kids I've ever met, hilarious times at our host family's house and riding in the back of the truck, a visit to a monkey park, cake smashed in my face, so much laughter, kindness and a truly life changing experience. My passport was not the only thing I left behind in Bolivia...I also left my heart with the children, families and community in Bolivia.
