Book bribes
For the most part, driving in Panama is easy. The roads are smooth, straight and well-signed. I don’t know if a sign was warped or my head from the sun as I left the Azuero Peninsula to get onto the Interamericana highway heading south, but I found myself stuck at a fork debating which way to go. I had taken an overpass from the highway toward Azuero, so I decided to do the same instead of taking the narrow bumpy road to the right. Wrong. No worries I thought as I caught a glimpse of a sign saying “retorno 100 meters.” Part of me realized that it had only been about 50 meters when I followed the painted arrow through a break in the barrier. And, when I saw a couple of orange cones blocking my way, not seeing any gaping holes, I just maneuvered around them. Relieved the wrong turn had not caused me too much time or inconvenience, I exhaled.
Just as I was shifting into second gear, a tall man in a tan uniform jumped out from underneath the overpass and waved me down. Argh, a police officer! “Do you know what you just did!” he said incredulously. I explained that I had seen the retorno sign and followed it. “No,” he said. “The place to make a U-turn is further up.” He looked at me and then back at the road while pursing his lips and sucking in a deep breath. For a minute I thought I was going to get away quick.
“Let me see your license,” he asked. I handed it to him and placed my sunglasses on top of my head. “California, eh?” He stood sideways looking down the road and in a long drawn out voice repeated: “Do you know what you just did?” I’m thinking he may have been getting ready to ask for a bribe when another officer casually dressed in a tan polo shirt and jeans walked over and asked the officer if I spoke Spanish. He said yes and while peering closely into my back window asked what I was doing in Panama. “I’m a travel writer promoting tourism in Panama,” I said wondering how they might react. They both looked at each other and the man in the polo shirt told the officer to “let her get on with her work.”
The uniformed officer didn’t respond. A few seconds later, he leaned into my window and asked if I had any English books or magazines because his girlfriend was studying English. I picked up the Miami Herald from the passenger seat. “Don’t you have any books or magazines in English?” he said. I could have said no and probably would have been allowed to continue to Panama City, but I just couldn’t drive away without trying to fulfill someone’s quest for knowledge! So, I opened my door and told him that I had a sad novel in the trunk of my car. I pulled out “The Glass Castle.”
He looked at the cover, thumbed through the pages and asked:”Will you give this to me as a gift?” That’s a bribe I had no problem forking over.
