¨What To Know When You’ve Been Detained¨, And Other Lessons

What an eventful couple of weeks it has been! My time in Argentina is rapidly coming to an end—I leave Saturday night. That’s the day after tomorrow. I’m definitely excited to go home, but also definitely in denial that all the fun I’ve been having is ending and real life has to start again. How has my gap year gone by so quickly? True, I have more than three months and a whole summer ahead of me before I start college, but my summer job starts in a month, and my exotic travels are over....EEKS. But at the same time, this year has been absolutely perfect, and feels like it has run its course. I’m ready to back in Boston, ready to be done with airplanes and packing and unpacking, ready to be with the people I know and love the best.

Alright. Enough with the gap year angst. I have so much to say about what I’ve experienced in the last two weeks, and so much to say about Argentina in general. Let’s go.

The most exciting event in the last two weeks was a long-weekend in Santiago, Chile by way of a day in Montevideo, Uruguay. I had an amazing time, as I got to live and spend tons of time with my friend Molly, who is studying abroad and living with a host family in Santiago. Before I jump into all my observations about Santiago, etc, however, I have to talk about the adventure that was getting to Santiago. It was quite the adventure.

Basically, I proved to myself last weekend that, as much as I would like to think of myself as this grown up, adult, ultra-competent person, this is not the case in some respects. I am still a 19-year old girl, who, when faced with the consequences of her own inexperience, more often than not ends up crying on the phone with her parents. My big mistake was that I left Argentina last Wednesday night without my American Express card—I just had my debit card. This was not a very smart move on my part, even if it was a complete accident. I meant to bring the card, I just didn’t double-triple check that I had it. So I get to Montevideo and my hostel and spend a nice day wandering around Montevideo (cute town, pretty buildings, some cool museums, but definitely not a place I would want to spend an extended period of time...Montevideo really is a boring, smaller, less important cousin of Buenos Aires. But I’m glad I’ve seen it.). When I’m preparing to return to the airport to catch my flight to Santiago, however, I go to an ATM and realize that I have about $30 on my debit card, and I don’t have my American Express card—and I realize that I left my AmEx on my desk back in Buenos Aires. Shoot. I spend about a half hour trying to find a phone to call my parents, can’t contact them (turns out they were both in an astronomy lecture.....???), contact my sister, explain the sitch, hang up, and desperately board a public bus (super cheap..yes) to the airport. The bus takes longer than I expect it to so I’m now really late getting to the airpot, and I almost don’t get off the bus at all because it’s SO crowded that I had to climb over people; once I’m in the terminal, I go into auto-pilot because I’m freaking out that I’m going to miss my flight. I run to the check-in counter, wave my E-Ticket at the lady at the check-in desk and practically yell that I’m not checking any luggage, and turn to go to rush to my gate. The lady has to practically yell at me, twice, in order to get my attention, that I can’t go directly to the gate. Why? Because Montevideo charges a $36 ¨airport fee¨ to all people flying out of the airport. Uh-oh.

I run to the desk where I have to pay my fee and hand the lady my debit card, the whole time saying that I don’t think there’s enough money on it to pay the fee and I don’t have any other credit card. Obviously, the debit card doesn’t work...for about 30 seconds I’m standing at this counter just staring at the lady and spluttering, wondering not only how I’m going to get on my plane to Santiago, but how I’m even going to be able to leave the airport, and how I would be able to even get back to Buenos Aires. I would probably still be standing there, spluttering, if it weren’t for my savior: Pablo from Spain. Pablo, the man paying at the window next to me, very nicely paid my fee, saying I could wire him the money later. I have always depended on the kindness of strangers. So, big shout-out to Pablo from Spain who saved my butt; who knew that there are people out there who are willing to help and trust people they don’t know. Now I know.

So I get on my plane to Santiago (after, while apologizing profusely and wondering whether I left my self-respect and standards on my desk in Buenos Aires along with my AmEx, jumping the entire security/customs line). Shaken, not exactly knowing how I’m going to get from the airport to Molly’s house if the cab is expensive. Mad at myself. Little did I know.....

....because when I got off the plane at Santiago, I found out that when Americans enter Chile they have to pay a $132 ¨reciprocity¨ fee, because the US, being an incredibly friendly and welcoming superpower, charges Chileans to enter the US. It’s 9:30 pm, I’m already tired and mad at myself because of the Montevideo debacle, the customs area is empty because no one else on the flight had to pay a fee, and now I’m standing in front of a Chilean customs official, explaining that I have no cash, no credit card, and not enough money on my debit card to pay the fee (I did, however, have $100 in Traveler’s Cheques...prior planning or just really good luck, I’m not sure). I end up being sent to this room which is basically the customs people’s office, where I sit in a chair in the corner, staring directly at a poster in Spanish and English which says ¨What to know if you’ve been detained¨ with detailed description of my rights as a detained person. Abigail Bok, Detainee. Perfect. Exactly how I always wanted to end up.

Eventually, after much discussion on the part of the bemused Chilean customs officials (I wonder how often are they confronted with a weepy blonde broke American girl? The impression I got is that they’re used to Americans being able to pay the fee no problem...), they finally bring me to a phone so I can use my calling card (I kept saying that I just had to call my parents, and that I had a calling card, but I don’t think they understood and thought that I just wanted to call the United States and charge Chilean customs for the bill...which would have been satisfying, but...). I call my dad, in tears, he puts more money on my card...and problem solved.

This was obviously an interesting evening. For me, it will definitely stick in my mind as a learning experience. I have never felt so incredibly YOUNG. And so incredibly inexperienced. For someone who has traveled as extensively as I have throughout my entire life, I proved that I can still act like a complete amateur. I can’t believe I didn’t a.) remember my AmEx or b.) research what sort of fees are involved in travelling to and from Chile and Uruguay or c.) talk to my Dad before I left about how it would be good if I had ample amounts of money on my debit card. I was also shaken by how quickly I broke down in tears when confronted with a relatively simple, harmless, almost funny situation. I guess travelling by myself stresses me out more than I would care to admit. I think it also made me think about how other countries perceive Americans, and the accuracy of those perceptions; to me, $132 seems like a pretty big amount to just surprise someone with, but people pay it no problem every day. And, at the end of the day, despite my angst/lack of organization, it wasn’t a problem for me to pay $132...I have $132. In fact, I have a lot more than $132, if I need it, in an emergency or unexpectedly...I have an absolutely ginormous safety net. And thinking about it, even the brokest tourist is going to have $132...because international travel of any sort, even the absolute cheapest, shoe-string sort, requires having a fair amount of money, somewhere...if you can buy a plane ticket, most likely somewhere there is a bank account that will most likely have at least a couple hundred dollars in it. A rainy day fund, at the least.

I had always bristled at the assumption by many people in China and in South America that anyone with white skin, or anyone who looks like a tourist, has tons of money and is a walking dollar sign. But, as much as I hate to say it, it’s a true assumption, relative to an average Chinese or Argentinean person. Basically, this whole episode put another puncture in my inflated image of myself as Abigail Bok, sophisticated and intrepid and uttlerly independent world-travelling, gap-year-taking adult. I think I will recover, haha. And I think learning lessons like this is the most important part of taking a gap year. So, Lesson 1: Always bring your AmEx. Lesson 2: Be humble, and always remember that you are never completely independent, always reliant on a safety net.

That’s all I have time for now. Tomorrow: thoughts about Chile, final adventures in Argentina, and some deep thoughts for the road. Chau chau!