from a nice, young, german friend

When I was in Bocas del Toro, I met the love of my life in white, heterosexual, male form.  (Therefore, there were limitations to our love.)  

In a message to a friend, I wrote that:

He and I make Hitler, black, sexist, dirty, IRONIC etc. jokes constantly and also are on the same exact page socially/politically. He can't really command syntax and vocabulary at a high level, but he is able to execute this wonderful type of humor (which you and I share) despite it. It's just amazing being around him.

Then in a message to me, he explained what happened to him on the way back into Panama from Costa Rica.  He had left his passport on the way there (having never contemplated living the country when he came to Bocas from the capital, and coudn't manage to sweet talk to attendant to get her 'official' okay, so we 'snuck' him over the border.  We figured he would be okay because he was white, foreign, and male.  When we left Puerto Viejo I went north, he went south.  

In his words we tells me that:

so... i got 30 dollars left (from 400 at the beginning of the week) so i bought a bottle of Rum and a busticket for the way back. I got totally drunk on the bus and were singing songs with Beatz. On half of the way (somewhere in the mountain area) we had to pass some kind of checkpoint. Police came in, controlled the bus and us. I felt dizzy and gave the policeman my ID-Card - what for him had not been enough. So he dragged me out into the policestation. It was so fun - i saw the bus vanishing while i was stucked in a mountain-policestation, stinking, ugly, without passport, drunk and 70 centimos in my pocket. I hided my beloved rum in my bag Harr! The policeofficer asked me all the bla bla questions. Where do you come from, porque no tienes pasaporte, que nacionalidad bla bla. I felt drunk and dizzy and was really in trouble to concentrate on him and answer in espagnol to his questions - my capability of speaking spanish is seriously undermined by alcohol. I asked him for a phonecall - a service an average panamanian mountain police-station is not offering. Next day i could take a call in the main police station in the big ciudad. The night i spend in a cell without water, food or a coat (that has also been part of their service-package i guess). I hadn't slept the whole night. Next morning we left. There were others before in that prison - they had carved encouraging jokes in the wall I was carving also: "i can strongly recommend this hostal to everone". In the town they didn't want to let me take a phone-call. They were not really interested to let me getting out of prison. A guy from argentina gratefully lended me his phone so i could tell my host the whole story - she was so pissed off (she's been in the middle of a meeting) hearing that her sweet little arian amigo got busted. She faxed me my passport. Since they still didn't want to let me go - she finally totally went berserk and told me to hand her some - how she articulated herselve - son of a bitch. I handed the phone to an office-woman and observed her face taking a different color slowly. It was so fun. My host later told me that she menaced to sue them and that they could get another job. Right after the call everything went out astonishingly fast: they handed a receipt for my stay (5 $) and got me free. A friend of my host came by, gave me 20 $ for busticket and food - and i even had saved meinen geliebten Rum to get wasted the last four hours back to Panama City. Being arrived totally drunk at the terminal my family said nothing - just lended me the way to the car - ha ha - what an adventure! wait a minute...