Life After Losing My Passport in Bolivia

Bruce and I flew out of Cochabamba, Bolivia this morning after making presentations to missionaries there Tuesday through Thursday. We were scheduled for a layover in Santa Cruz long enough to spend several hours with the missionaries in Santa Cruz, and then fly on to Lima this afternoon.

We landed and left the plane. I usually count my carry-on items when I leave a plane - pillow, backpack, carry-on bag, and fanny pack. Not this time. I realized as we walked through the terminal that I didn't have my bolsa (black fanny pack). MY PASSPORT WAS IN IT!

Heart pounding, I walked over to a security person and told her what had happened. She called someone who said they would check the plane as soon as all the passengers had disembarked. She told me to wait there for news. I waited. Waited. Wanted to visit the baño, but stayed in place in case the person came back with news while I was gone. Finally a guy came along and said I couldn't wait there any longer - he was going to close that area.

We waited some more in another part of the terminal. (Erin, think of the Beira terminal, but a little bit bigger.) They finally told us (with little sympathy) that the bag was not on the plane.

My passport, two debit cards, a credit card, two checkbooks, my little bolsita with about 200 soles (about $75 American) in it, the lipstick Jenny gave me (my favorite), a flash drive with a lot of work on it that was irreplaceable, and my mission journal (present from Joy).

As we waited we became later and later for our presentation to a group of missionaries waiting for us. I kept exercising calma, tranquilidad, paz - and I did manage to keep from hyperventilating. I wondered if I would be able to talk to these missionaries about how to manage their thinking.

What if I collapsed in tears!!!!
What if I had a panic attack!!!!
What if I found that the trauma was so great I could no longer speak Spanish!!!!

We arrived at the church and found the missionaries singing hymns (rather than swinging from the rafters as I had feared). The mission president wasn't there because he had had to fly out of town earlier in the day.

I presented my information - the third time in four days - all in Spanish. At the very beginning I almost began to cry. But Bruce said the presentation was the best of the three I've given. That would be because I was mentally praying so often and so fervently that I would be able to get through it without breaking down. I did get through it. Then Bruce did his presentation.

While he was talking the phone rang. We hadn't been able to get a signal before then. It was Liliana calling from our area office to ask me about my passport - did I have a copy of it with me (of course not), did I have a copy of it in my desk at the office (of course not), did I have a copy at home (yes, but I'm not sure where). OK, I'll call you back later.

While I was doing my presentation, the church attorney came to talk with Bruce about the problem. He said he would try to work things out. So - three sets of people working on it, counting the church travel people got involved as well.

After Bruce was done we said personal good-byes to a couple dozen of the 80 missionaries that were there, one of whom assurred me with a lovely grin, No se preocupe, Hermana. Va a obtener su bolsa hoy. (Don't worry, Sister. You're going to get your purse back today.) I thanked him and wondered/hoped he was a really faithful missionary. And then Presidente Calderón showed up! Their flight plans had gone awry and they were in town after all.

Oh, Happy Day!!! We had been wondering what we were going to do about eating and getting places. They took us to lunch - really good food. While eating President contacted the American Consulate in Santa Cruz (no embassy here). A woman there told me what I had to do to get a new passport.

• Make a police report at Interpol - do this in a hurry because they would be closed tomorrow and not open again until Monday, and it would take a couple of hours to get the report.


• Get a passport photo for an American passport, 2x2 cm on a white background. (I guess countries have different requirements.)


• Come to her office on Monday (!!!) and fill out forms that will be sent to La Paz that afternoon, be completed on Tuesday, and sent back to Santa Cruz on Wednesday.


• OR


• Do the police report in a hurry (ditto above) and get the passport photo. (Ditto above)


• Fly to La Paz (But I don't have ID!! Oh, I thought, this can be done without any identification, as we experienced this morning when we boarded our flight from Cochabamba and only had to show our boarding passes. And we didn't have to remove our shoes. And they passed out the snack for the flight as we went through the gate before getting on the plane. And they let us bring on bottles of water that were purchased who knows where!) and be at the American Embassy 9 a.m. Monday for an appointment she would set up.

OK. We could do all that because Presidente Calderón was willing to drive us around. We arrived at the police station (Main Police station for the city of 1.5 million people) and found three men there to help us: the church attorney, a church travel worker, and someone else with another job which seems to be to help stranded missionaries.

We had to get badges to go to Interpol and then walk through a metal detector. When I say I don't have any ID, she shruggs her shoulders and gives me a badge. She motions us through a metal detector. When I say I can't do that because I have a marco-pasa (pace-maker), she says it doesn't work anyway, so go on through.

We all go up, and very quickly I am told to enter the office (before at least half a dozen others who are waiting, including a Mennonite couple). The woman asks me nothing. She talks with the attorney who has come in with me. He answers all her questions, shows her the copy of my passport the area office has sent, and shows her Bruce's passport with the Visa and the papel de engres (entry paper).

She is not impressed. Where is HER papel de engres? How do we know she came in legally? Here is her husband's passport with Visa and proof of entry, says the attorney. She considers with narrowed eyes. She finally turns away, answers a call on her personal cell phone, then looks at me. I say, Muchas gracia, señorita, por ayudarme, (for helping me) with as much warmth as I can pull up in my traumatized state. She smiles for half a second and goes back to her stone face.

She pulls up the papers and fills out one small part. Regresa el lunes de la mañana, (Come back Monday in the morning) she says while placing my papers in a file. My eyes go wide. Por favor, señorita, says the attorney, she needs to fly to La Paz Monday morning. She sighs, pulls the papers out, notarizes and signs them with a flourish. Espere (Wait), she commands. She returns in two minutes with the papers and gives them to me. (I'm thinking, Come back Monday in the morning because it will take so long to finish this?!!!!) But I say, Muchas gracia, señorita, with a huge, genuine smile. I know my skin has been saved by the church attorney.

The church travel person has been talking to Presidente Calderón. They should fly to La Paz tonight, he says, because the planes are not dependable. The flight could be delayed for hours and she could miss her appointment. Then her passport would be delayed another day. OK, we agree. We drive to the airport because there is a flight to La Paz in a couple of hours. The ticket is being changed from Lima to La Paz by the travel guy. I'm thinking, Where will we stay in La Paz? Who will get us to the Embassy? Where will we get food? Can I get gluten free? Do we have enough money for all this?

As we walk into the airport I say, we should check with Aero Sur one more time to see if my bolsa has shown up. The Lost and Found office says we have to ask Security. I walk up to the check-in counter and explain that I lost my bolsa on the plane this morning and need to go to Security. ?Donde está? (Where is it?) He bids me, Espere, and calls someone, then walks away. I wait. Wait. WAIT. With patience and humility. He comes back after 10 minutes and says, (Hay un pasaporte, pero no pienso que es suyo. (They have a passport, but I don't think it's yours.)

I wait some more. El está viniendo. (He's coming.) I strain to see over and around the people in front of the man. Is that a black bag in his hands???!!!!!

I break into strains of Muchas gracias! Muchas gracias! I hold the bag to my bosom. The travel man, with patience, says, Mire para el pasaporte (Look for the passport.) I look. The money is gone and so is my favorite lipstick that Jenny gave me. Those young women sitting behind me, I think!!!!! But my passport IS there with the papel de engres!

!!!!OH HAPPY DAY!!!!

But the flight to Lima has already left. We find out it will cost$800 American apiece to change our tickets to tomorrow. We need to stay another day. The church travel man lives nearby and will pick us up for church at 8 a.m. on Sunday and get us to the airport in the afternoon. So here we are in Santa Cruz at the Sun Hotel having a vacation.

We swam in a lovely pool this evening. Dad learned to float!!!! The water was delightfully warm. The sun was going down. The sky was beautiful. The bats came out. So did the mosquitoes. So here I am inside, learning to blog.