It was opening night. The inauguration of what was to become the coolest bar on the beach, for one year to the day at least but more about that later.
I had already had a few Rums during a happy hour at another bar then had run home for a quick shower, a bite to eat and to roll a couple of single skin joints, pocket rockets as we called them, then back down the beach. I have no idea what time it would have been but it was dark so I would say after 7pm, not that it matters.
Arriving I could see that the party was getting underway and there were already a fair few people laughing and joking. I spotted Fabio so headed over to say hello. Fabio is a Rasta, surfer and all round good fella, we got on well so had a couple of drinks and got into the party mood.
Sometime later I gave him a nudge and looked down at the spliff I had palmed and ready to go. I nodded to the waterline and strolled in that direction. Arriving at the water’s edge I hunched with my back to the prevailing wind and sparked it up. Looking up as I took that first luxurious lungful I saw that Fabio had gathered a small clan to join us.
At his side was his brother Dominic, Dominic’s girlfriend Yan, and then came Americo, Jose, Jorge, Juan and Pancho. I knew most of them, good people, so we got to polishing off the joint and enjoying good company. The first spliff was almost done when I happened to glance downwind to where the passage from the street spills out onto the sandy beach and saw a cop step onto the sand, look in our direction then duck quickly back up the passageway.
I immediately alerted the others, I knew he had smelt the weed and it was a matter seconds before he would be back. I fished the second joint out of my shirt pocket and flicked it in the direction of the water. I was already stoned and a little drunk so wasn’t particularly surprised that it fell short but I had no time to remedy the situation as two cops were already coming towards us. I turned my back on them and walked casually back towards the party.
‘Oye, a donde van?’ “Where are you going?” One cop called out. They trotted up to us and demanded that we stay put as they began to scout around the area where we has been standing. In no time at all they found the discarded roach then the fresh joint and came over to us, grinning in triumph. “Turn out your pockets” the first cop said whilst his compadre held the flashlight on each of us in turn.
During that quick search on the beach the cops found two things of significance; they found a small block of weed in Dominic’s pocket and €500 in his brother’s. Fabio was due to fly out to spend the summer with his girlfriend in Europe and had ill-advisedly brought the cash with him. “You’re all under arrest” the first cop said, “Follow me."
We followed the first cop in single file while the second cop came behind in case of an escape attempt.
I wasn’t particularly bothered by any of this as it is important to remember that the cops here don’t actually want to do any work, they just want money, which I didn’t have. With this in mind I settled in for an entertaining evening.
Exiting the beach I lost one of my flip flops so kicked the other one off and into a garbage bin as we passed. There were a few interested looks as we were escorted through the village to the police station at the entrance but this kind of thing was not an unusual sight in a tourist village, at night, in Latin America so most people just ignored us. We arrived at the police station about ten minutes later and were ushered into the Sergeant’s office where we were arrayed in front of his desk in a semi-circle.
The first cop passed the small block of weed and the joint to the Sergeant as he leaned in and whispered something to him. The Sergeant looked up and I swear his eyes focussed on me a little longer than the others but, being the only foreigner in the group, this didn’t surprise me. Also, being stoned as I was, I dismissed the thought and put it down to a touch of paranoia.
He stood up from behind his desk and with exaggerated emphasis walked around it to stand in front then sit back against it holding the spliff up in front of him. He paused then, looking at Americo to my left, he asked “Is this yours?” “No Sergeant” Americo said. His eyes looked left then asked Yan the same question to which she replied “No Sergeant.” He continued around the semi-circle until he reached me. His eyes locked onto mine then he asked “Is this yours?”
“Sergeant” I said, gesturing to my missing arm “I can’t make one of those.” “Hey!” He said “The last time we spoke you explained to me how to put a nail in the wall using only one hand, DON’T lie to me!”
“No Sergeant” was all I said.
Reaching the end of the line without a positive admission we were all, except Yan, escorted into an adjoining cell and told to sit down. The escorting cops then left us and went back to the Sergeant’s office where we could hear the muffled sounds of the discussion taking place. I looked about me and saw one or two of the guys were looking a bit nervous. I wanted to ease their minds but there was really nothing I could say so I simply rested my head back against the wall and waited.
Not long after, the two cops came back into our cell and ordered us to stand up. One at a time we were to strip and receive a proper search. They weren’t about to check cavities thankfully, I think it was more for intimidation, and to give them a chance to thoroughly search our clothes.
One at a time my companions stripped. When it came to my turn I wasted no time dropping my jeans, t-shirt and boxers then just stood there. The cop absent-mindedly searched one of my pockets then the other cop barked that I should get dressed. The one searching my clothing approached me and offered to help me dress “I don’t need any help from you” I barked, mildly irritated. He recoiled a short distance then handed me my clothing without comment.
I dressed then sat back down.
The cops went back into the Sergeant’s office and this time we could all clearly hear the growing argument. They wanted the €500 but had been unable to find it during the strip search. Fabio and Dominic had stood side by side during the search and had expertly switched the cash between them foiling the cop’s attempt to steal it. They should have been happy as they had found a few Dollars and plenty of local currency on the others but they were greedy for more so the argument gained ferocity as they shouted out ideas as to how to get the money. By now there were eight cops, not including the Sergeant and the argument had spilled out onto the street in front of the police station.
The tension was rising and even I began to feel a little uncomfortable when one cop came back into our cell and began yelling at Fabio. He just stood there but I could see he was feeling the strain too. Just then Papa John, Fabio and Dominic’s father stormed into the police station. He barged past the stunned cops and shoved his way into our cell. He grabbed at Dominic and swung a punch at his face, missing by millimetres and striking his shoulder a glancing blow. “What have you done” He cried “You’ll be the ruin of this family.” With the back of his hand placed across his forehead, he collapsed to the floor.
One thing I should mention at this time is that Papa John is a retired actor and well aware of the local’s love for the Soap Opera. He had been told of our predicament not long after we left the beach so had followed us down the station and waited for the right moment to act. He had barged in to diffuse the situation and distract the ever more aggressive cops. It worked as the cell became a hive of concerned activity.
Another thing I should mention is that the respect held for elders here is great so having the venerable Papa John incapacitated on the cell floor was too much drama for these cops and worked fantastically to divert attention, even if only for a while.
Fabio rushed to his father’s side and gestured to Americo to help. They took Papa John by each arm and gently raised him to a sitting position. Papa John was doing an excellent job, even managing to get red faced and panting as he weakly dabbed at imaginary sweat on his brow. The cops looked on anxiously as he was lifted to his feet and the two boys slowly escorted him towards the building’s exit. They were on the verge of walking out the door when the Sergeant yelled “Where the Fuck do you think you’re going?” Gesturing to another room with a bed in it he said “In here” and pointed to the bed.
He then asked his constables for a phone and called for an ambulance. Inside I was congratulating Papa John for a job seriously well done and relaxed back against the wall of our cell with a faint smile on my face.
In due course the ambulance arrived and there was once more bustling activity as the paramedics attended to the incapacitated Papa John. I was immensely grateful to him as all of this activity served to eat up time as well as calm the tension. Although many cops here are corrupt they would not want to be seen to be in front of outsiders so the quest for cash was put on hold while the medics did their thing. Papa John recovered swiftly and was soon escorted out onto the street to amble back into the village.
The ambulance left and the discussion recommenced, though with less aggression.
Some short time later Fabio looked out the door of our cell and his face showed dismay. “Man!” he hissed, looking at me “here comes Simon! You gotta sort him out man!”
“What?” I said “why me?”
“He’s from your country right!” Said Fabio.
“No he’s not, he’s Belgian and I’m English!” I stated, somewhat alarmed.
“It’s the same thing” Fabio said “Help us out man, he’s fucked on coke and gonna fuck things up for us once again.”
Not sure what I was going to do, I got to my feet and stepped out of the cell door and seeing Jorec I call out “Hey Simon, wha….”
“Hey!” The Sergeant screamed “What the fuck are you doing? You’re under arrest, get back in your cell."
Meekly I retreated but kept looking out as I wanted to see what Simon was doing.
His jaw chewing away as only a coked up person can, he said loudly “Do you know who I am?”
I groaned. Simon was a restauranteur and had been here many years. He was a well-connected man back in the day and was having a little trouble accepting that he was no longer as influential as he had once been. He began strutting between the gathered cops, poking their chests and muttering about the Generals and Ministers he was acquainted with. The cops were taken aback by this skinny foreigner strutting about and talking at nobody in particular. The Sergeant stood up from behind his desk and stepped out of his office. He knew Simon and gently taking him by the elbow suggested to him that he should be elsewhere or end up in the cell with us. Simon took the hint and stalked off down the street.
By now it was late and I think the cops had enjoyed quite enough drama for one night. Those who had arrived late took their share of the stolen money and disappeared back to the beach, to look for more victims I guess. There remained only the first two cops who had arrested us and the Sergeant.
The two cops were actually quite friendly and were stood in the cell with us chatting. Suddenly the first cop jerked his thumb in my direction and asked “Did anybody actually search the Gringo?” His companion looked a little embarrassed then hung his head, looking at the floor. “You” the first cop said “how much money do you have?” I fished in my pocket and pulled out a thin wedge of notes. Counting quickly I replied “Seventeen B’s” (about $2). The first cop just looked at me with a blank expression. He didn’t even bother to take it from me. I almost laughed outloud at my luck, the only foreighner in the group yet the only one to end the evening without having lost any cash, what a night!
A short time later the Sergeant came into our cell. Dominic was to be taken to Jail for possession of weed. They had to make an example of someone after so much drama but they assured us that he would be released the next day; it was just a formality really.
After a brief lecture about the damage done to society by the evil weed we were allowed to leave. I found it hard to keep a straight face as the Sergeant spoke; my English mind struggling with the morality that it was ok to extort money from us but we were in the wrong for smoking a bit of herb. I even shook the Sergeant’s hand before leaving and told him I would come see him with some more one handed carpentry tricks if he liked. He nodded then walked back into his office.