Headlights and Machine Guns

Last night after class, one of my students invited Kane and I to play squash with him and a couple of his peacecorps buddies. We jumped at the opportunity to get in a little late-night excercise and show off the squash skills that had been honed by miss kait, my college roommate. I knew that this student was a great guy and had really reached out to previous volunteers so 6 of us piled into a old Fiat and took off for the campo. About 10 minutes outside the city we pulled into a super fancy all-inclusive hostal (Ecuadorian equivalent of a resort) and sweet-talked the owners into giving us some playing time on their one and only squash court. Yet another example of how important palancas (connections) are here in Ecuador. The resort was absolutely beautiful with equa-volleyball courts, 2 swimming pools, a hot tub, tennis courts, and massage parlors- all part of the amenities you get for a $50/night cabana rental. Squash was an absolute blast, although it can be rough if you cant find a partner with your same ability level. The boys were all dominating me and the other girl with us couldnt quite return my serves, but it was a great time nonetheless. Anyway, after a few rousing hours of squash we piled back into the fiat with elbows sticking out the windows, my left thigh straining to steer clear of the gear shift, and the 6`2" boys struggling to keep their knees out of their throats. As we slowly made our way back to the city, my student remarked that his headlights didnt seem to be working and we were thus driving back on a dirt road with only the street lights to guide us. Just then, we saw another color lights coming up behind us- the red and blue kind. Chuta (Shoot!), we all thought as the national trooper pulled closely up behind us. "Pull off here and stop the car," the police instructed. I must say, as waves of military fatugues and machine guns flashed before my eyes, I almost lost it. The butt of one officer´s gun was inches from Kane´s face in the passenger side window. They instructed us to get out of the car as they questioned my student about who we were, (Are they tourists?), and why he was driving with 6 people in a 5 passenger car without headlights. Now, I had a large bag sitting on my lap with a decent amount of money in it and my passport (we are required by law to carry it here) and I had heard horror stories of corrupt military officers demanding bribes. I struggled with whether to take my bag with me outside the car and risk pissing off the armed men or to leave it in the car and risk losing my money and passport. I decided on the later after hearing my father`s warnings about south american countries echoing in my head. After a quick search of the car to make sure we hadn`t been drinking and weren`t smuggling drugs they told us to get our light fixed pronto and be careful driving back with such a full car.

And that was it. They left. No bribes, no insinuation of bribes, no violence, no questions for us gringos to answer, no searching through my bag, no human trafficking to Columbia, not really even any intentional intimidation (although seeing a machine gun was quite intimidating to us Americans who were not accustomed). The police were simply doing their job and were looking out for our safety. I was shocked.

On the way home as we pressed my student about whether this was a normal run-in with the police he said that we were lucky that it was the national police and not the local police. He said about 50% of the time a small bribe is neccessary to get the local police off your back for infractions such as broken headlights. On the contrary, the national police are usually buena gente (good people), take their job very seriously, and generally conduct themselves fairly and with honor.

While I do intend to be a little more choosey when riding in cars and a little more weary of late-night escapades, I will say that the experience gave me greater respect for the Ecuadorian government and military. Hows that for a cultural experience!