Lies, Censos, and English Lessons

When the MPIE team first arrived to Quito last July on tourist visas, one of our first organizational tasks was aquiring an Ecuadorian Censo, or year long volunteer visa, to make us temporary Ecuadorian citizens. Along with a very official looking stamp in our passports, we were issued ID cards that have proved useful in getting us discounts to national parks and tourist attractions- along with making us feel media-Ecuatoriano. This blog entry is premised by noting that Dunc and I recently lost our beloved Censo ID cards (mine was pick-pocketed with $20 at the Ecuador vs. Argentina World Cup Qualifier game- totally worth it, and Dunc´s was stolen by the Troll that lives in the Manna house). I was unconvinced that spending the time to get a new Censo was a priority, but when Dunc told me he was going into town to get a new card, I made the decision to tag along…

We wake up bright and early and are out the door at 8:15 sharp. First stop of the day is the police station to report our missing Censos. Dunc and I decided earlier to explain the situation as arising from a single incident (aka theft), rather than two separate ones, to simply things in an otherwise very complicated bureaucratic structure. On the way to the police station, the two of us go over the details of our “mugging” so that we would be on the same page when questioned by the police. *Let it be known that while we were indeed fabricating an event, Dunc and Mark have both been mugged on different occasions and I have been pick-pocketed, which seemed to partially validate our actions.* Arriving at the police station, we get the gringo treatment as an officer immediately escorts us through the crowd, past a sketchy looking man- who may or may not have been selling fake passports in front of the police station and all of the officers- in the side door, and up to the office where robberies are reported.

As we go through the details of the incident with the police officer upstairs, she tells us that to request a new Censo we first have to file an official report with the Quito police. No problem. "So when did the incident occur," she asks. "Saturday," Dunc responds, and her face twists a bit. She informs us that they only accept reports that have happened in the past 72 hours. To report a prior incident we have to go to the city police station a few blocks away. When we get there, the scene is straight out of a Hollywood film that takes place in South America. We walk down a grimy smelly cement hallway, past a bench with 3 handcuffed men- one of whom had recently vomited on himself- to a small windowless room leading to a smaller windowless office. The line to enter the office is about 30 people long, and Dunc gives me a look that clearly says “how the hell do we do get ourselves out of here FAST?!”. We timidly ask the policewoman if it would be possible to lie about the (already fake) date on our police report, changing it to something within the required 72 hour period to avoid the smelliness of the current police station and the ridiculous line. We were pleasantly surprised when she agreed at once with a smile, looking just as relieved that we had been the ones to bring it up as we were to get out of there.

The three of us trek back to the first office, and Dunc and I fill out the required paperwork reporting the fake mugging with the doubly fake date. After getting the reports stamped and official looking, we were just getting up to go when the officer asks us a question about English grammar. She then goes on to explain that she is trying to translate the Aerosmith song that has been playing all morning in the background of the office- on repeat- and pulls out a copy of the lyrics from her report folder. Mind you, there is now a line of gringo tourists waiting behind us to file reports with the lone policewoman, but Dunc and I being seasoned English teachers just couldn’t help ourselves. So we dive into long-winded explanations, such as the difference between “awake” and “wake up”, as the officer took notes with a furrowed brow.

Ten minutes later, after wishing our new police friend a good morning, Dunc and I hail a cab to take us to the Immigration office in north Quito, where, supposedly, we will be able to attain new Censos with our fake robbery reports (yay!). Our taxista weaves in and out of the late morning traffic, turning up the radio to an annoyingly catchy reggae-ton song, and the two gringos in the backseat chat about the silliness of our encounter at the police station. We recap, finally getting to the point in the story where we filled out the date and time of the report... all of a sudden, as if a light bulb turns on above each of our heads at the same time, we realize that the incident we reported had, in fact, not occurred yet, but was scheduled to take place in about 7 hours, at 5pm that same day. Oops!

Knowing that the people at the Censo office probably wouldn’t notice this minor detail, and even if they did, would look the other way, we continue on to the office bright eyed and optimistic. However, upon reaching the Censo office, we are informed by the grumpy police officer at the counter that the Censo office doesn’t open until the afternoon. “Come back at 1:30 to get in line for when the doors open at 2:30 and they’ll start helping people at 3” he tells us. Unfortunately we don’t have time to stick around because of afternoon programs, so we head over to Sanduches del Rey for an early lunch before making the trek back out to the valley empty-handed. All in all a pretty typical morning in dealing with Ecuadorian government/bureaucracy!