The incident at the Czech Border

Amsterdam is cold in November. The people are colder. Blood-sucking parasites desperate for money and willing to get it by any means necessary. This is why pot is so popular there, the only honest ones are just as stoned as the tourists. This is also why so many bad decisions come about, desperation to leave causes many poorly conceived plans to be executed.

I woke up on the day we were leaving earlier than I wanted. The girls on the trip were headed to Barcelona. Forgetful gave me a hug as her eyes tried to apologize for the last night, maybe she even had to. My eyes tried to accept the apology, maybe they did. They left and I went back to sleep. My head still hurt, though not from the drinking. Before they left Kiwi handed me the bag we had bought last night with specific instructions to mail it off with the rest of our stash. I packed her 5 grams in my bag and gave them my goodbyes and goodlucks for their own adventure to Spain.

Me, Dank, B. and Bruce Lee all went about our business. Getting lost in a marajuana smoke daze. As the day wore on the realization that we had not passed a post office, nor had we bought shipping material or coffee or peanut butter or the worlds largest bottle of toothpaste, I grew worried. I had a half ounce of contraband in my bag and we were travelling over international borders.

"Hey guys, can we stop and buy some peanut butter so I can put this stuff in there?"
"Dude, don't worry."
"Yeah man, you'll be fine, just stick it in your sock."
"Oh... yeah I guess that'll be alright."

Somewhere in my brain I convinced myself that my earlier travels by rail had brought no searches and seizures. This would be no different. My friends wouldn't convince me do something this stupid. I was holding it for them.

"Don't worry man, we'll find a post office as soon as we get to Prague."
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That night me and Dank smoked behind the fence in the Bus Depot before we boarded the night bus to Prague. As I handed the driver my ticket he stopped me.

"Grosse."

The word was soft and poetic, I love the Czech language. That word is forever burned into my memory.

"Grosse." He repeated the word and pointed to my backpack.
"I can't take it aboard?" I recognized the word from the little French I spoke.
He said more words I didn't understand, but his pointing at the the cargo hold made it understood, I couldn't have my backpack on the bus. It would stay in the cargo hold. I stuck a name tag on it and got into my seat. When we started my brain, seeping with THC quickly forced my eyes shut and I slept.
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I woke up to a warning. We were crossing the border. It was pitch black out when the German officials came on board the bus and took everyone's passports. There were two Czech's to my right, probably 2 years younger than I was. They were drunk and getting in fights with the driver the entire ride. I asked them if they knew if this was standard procedure or if something was amiss. They had no idea, it had never happened before. I started to sweat. I forced the calm when I looked out the window at the officials in the baggage hold. My friends thought this was funny. I tried to see the humor. The flashlights swung up toward the windows on the bus and blinded me to it. After 5 minutes they reboarded and gave back our passports. But I could still feel the heat in my cheeks. After the fear passed the invincibility came and I fell asleep.
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I woke up to a familiar warning. Though now it was morning and my eyes, wearied by lack of sleep and consumption were not telling me the truth. They pulled people at random from the bus. I kept my head on the window, my eyes more awake than my body. In the same moment as my body arose, I heard,
"And you." As I saw a uniformed finger squarely in my direction. I calmly got up and exited the bus. As I picked up my backpack from the cargo hold I noticed my nametag had fallen off. In a split second I had my chance at freedom. I couldn't though, the thought of winding up with something worse in a strangers bag forced my hands to my own. How would I explain 2 kilos of cocaine? I doubted the border patrol would be very sympathetic to me telling them my excuse for switching bags with someone smuggling 2 kilos of coke was my own effort to smuggle an admittedly much more reasonable amount of marijuana.
I tried to force my brain into a plan as the passengers they had corralled went on our 500 ft death march. Maybe I could slip the pot into my pocket and then flush it into the bathroom. The sheer ludicrousness of this thought did not deter my frantic, weed-addled, sleep deprived brain. I would make this happen. Even if the worst occured and they searched it, they would just throw my things around, frighten me, but not hold up everyone for an entire search of every passengers numerous belongings.
As the border patrol meticulously went through every article of baggage, the wallets and the shoes of the Czech kids sitting next to me, I grew worried. As I tried to open my bag the border official told me to put it at my side and leave it alone. I complied. When my turn came I kept calm. When they found my leopard print handcuffs I made no comment. The look when the found my red pants and shirt with the snakeskin "A" on them likewise elicited nothing. I explained the adderal I had in an altoids tin was ibuprofin. My collection of argyle socks was my undoing. When they finally opened the very last pocket they had to search they pulled out the one sock I prayed they would never find and poured out its contents.

"What's this?"
"I have no idea!"
"Really?"
"Guys. Did anyone do anything with my bag." They all squirmed and looked away offering grunts and mumbles to distance themselves from me.
"I've never seen that before in my life. I don't know why it was in my bag. It isn't mine." My stoicism broke.
"It's your problem now. Everyone back to the bus!" The room cleared.
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I followed them through corridors and small rooms until we reached a back room, the desk and chair with only one door told me what it was. I was asked the same questions over and over.

"Other Alex"

"The USA."

"I'm here on holiday from school."

"It's only for me."

"I got it in Amsterdam."

"I forgot it was in my bag."

"I have less than $2000 Euro's, I'm a student."

"On Holiday. We have a week off."

"Prague."

"Yes, it's only for me."

"I was holding it for me and my friends, for this, for the holiday."
"Come with me." The guard instructed. I went for my bag. "You won't need that."
I followed him through another maze of rooms and hallways and he stood by a door and ushered me in. When he flipped on the light the room was bare except for 2 jail cells.

"Go." He gestured toward the cell. I went in.
"Take down your trousers." I complied slowly, expecting the worst.
"Pants too." I did. The next 5 seconds were the longest of my life.
"Okay." He started to leave.
"One last time, who was the marijuana for?"
"It was for me and my friends, it was for the holiday."
"Come with me." He said. It was almost friendly.

He took me into the other room where the other border guards had weighed out the baggie. 13.3 grams. He handed me a sheet, explained that I would be taken to a nearby police station and then let go on the next bus to Prague. Then he sent me out to a front room, with all my things except my passport, and I waited.
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Hours passed. I read a play, wrote in my journal, sketched the antechamber I was stuck in and waited. A man was brought through in handcuffs and another man exited through the front door, apparently free. I tried not to think about which I would be. After two and a half hours two police men I had seen enter 5 minutes prior informed me that they were the "crime police." I was being taken into the station 2km into Germany, processed and fined for "Shmugglin" and let go. The put me in the back of a small BMW and we drove into the nearist town the name of which escapes me.
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I get to the station and get processed. Name. Age. Hometown. Reason for travelling. Finally they inform me I have to pay 245.50 euros and then I can catch a bus. I do not have 245.50 euros on me. I have 0 euros on me. Leaving Amsterdam I figured it would be a good idea to spend all my euros and not have to change money in Prague. This was a bad idea. They agree to drive me to a bank so I can use the ATM. On the way the police officer and I talk a bit. He asks how the marijuana is in Amsterdam. Tells me about how the fines have been changing over the years. I try to joke around, but something is lost in the translation and he doesn't laugh with any spirit. I began to think this kind of thing happens a lot.
We get to the bank and I use the ATM. It doesn't work. It won't accept my card. I try again. The cop tells me to try my credit card, which, since I don't know the PIN is an excercise in futility. Not that I want 250 Euros on my credit card anyway. He goes to the bank manager and I, in possibly my first logical thought of the day, try another ATM which works. We drive back to the station, I'm fingerprinted and get my change and go back to the border. Though not before reminding them they have yet to give me my passport. After running to retrive it I'm brought back to the front room at the border. I now have to wait while my passport is screened to make sure I'm not an international terrorist or drug kingpin. This will take 30-45 minutes. 1 hour and a half later I go to ask what is happening. They run around pretending to figure out what's happening. Then tell me it'll just be a little longer. 45 minutes later I'm given my passport and told that the next bus is at 10 tonight. It is presently about 1:30 in the afternoon. I have no euros, no ticket, my phone is almost dead, I'm at the German/Czech border in the assfuck of nowhere and the single thing I know about Prague is that we were supposed to go into Florence station. Life has been better.
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I got up and left the room where I was being held. Step one, calm down. I went to the resturant at the truck depot and spent my last 5.50 euros on cigarettes, forgoeing my plan to quit and a soda because I hadn't eaten in hours and didn't have enough money for food. I looked for an ATM, there were none. There were, however, 6 money changing stations. Step two, get some money. None of the money changing stations had ATM's, nor did they accept travellers cheques. While I had no cash, I did have $80 in Cheques that could be used to buy a bus ticket. I began to worry, with no money and no phone I had no way of making it to Prague. Though by now I have stopped worrying about partying in Prague and started thinking about getting my plane back to England in Budapest at the end of the week. I go back to the place where I was held to see if the border police have any insight. Step three, ask for help.
"None of the money stations take travellers cheques, will the bus driver let me get on here because I already had a ticket?"
"No, you'll need to pay."
"Well... will they take a card?" He snickered.
"No."
"Well, what should I do? There's no way for me to get money and I need to get on a bus."
He took me over to a window. "You see those trucks down there?"
"Yes."
"Ask one of them."

Step four, hitchhike.
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I went down to the Czech side of the border and found an outlet so I could charge my phone. After sitting there for 5 minutes the Czech border patrol came in and started yelling at me. In Czech. This proved problematic as I spoke no Czech and they no English. After a few minutes of gesturing to the phone and outlet I decided to leave, though when I got up to go they waved me off and went away. I sent a text message to my friend.

"Stuck at German border. Going to hitchhike to Prague. Pray for me."

I hoped for the first time in my life that there was a God, and that they would pray.
I went to the truck depot booth and went inside. This idea proved to be a poor one because the guard in the booth was very edgy. He immediately demanded my passport. I provided it. He entered some information into a computer, I tried to explain my situation, every time I took one step into the room he screamed at me to get back. Finally he gave me my passport with the instructions to just ask the drivers. Step five, ask around. I started asking every driver I could.

"Praha? You go to Praha?"

It was the closest thing I could do to communicate. After an hour of this I decided to ask the car drivers who were starting to come more frequently to the change stations at the border. After about 50 drivers two were heading there, one with a car totally jam packed with wooden furnature who apologized for not being able to help me and one woman who took one look at my haggard clothes and tired face, snorted "no" and drove off in her mercedes. This was fruitless so I went into the restuarant and asked the drivers in there. I asked drivers who were 6'6" and weighed 300+lbs. with huge bushy beards. I asked clean cut drivers who spoke no english. I asked drivers who looked like they hadn't slept in months. Nobody was going to Praha, Prague was 263km away and getting no closer. Finally I asked a man who looked about 30.

"Are you going to Prague? PRAHA?"
"Yes, I am."
"You speak English?!"
"A little bit."
"I was detained at the border and missed my bus, I need to get to Prague, can I get a ride?"
"I'm sorry, no, my company does not let me give rides."
"Oh... who's your company?"
"They are in the US Haliburton. I was driving military equipment."
Haliburton was my route to salvation.
"Wow. Where are you from." I was wasting time, but this was the first person who spoke english who wasn't involved in arresting me.
"Hungary."
"I'm going there after I get to Prague... That is... assuming I get to Prague. I should really get going, I need to find a ride before it gets dark." It was nearing 5 o'clock.
"Hey, I will take you. Get in. My name is Zoly."
"Thank you."
"I am only going to 20 km outside of Prague though. Then I switch drivers, he may not take you."
"20km from Prague is better than 263. I'll come with you."
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The ride was uneventful. We made small talk, which was difficult because his English was not wonderful, and my Hungarian was non-existant. Some other friends who were in Prague called at one point and agreed to meet me at Florence train station after I got to Prague. Then they would buy me a drink. I needed a drink. After 2 hours we arrived at a truck stop. The other driver wasn't there yet so I used the bathroom. When I came out I heard the first good news all day, he would take me. The 20 km went by in about 30 minutes. He offered me a cigarette at one point, I smoked on of my own. When we saw signs for Praha he posed me his first inquiry of the drive.
"Praha?"
"Yes, Praha."
He pulled over on the side of the road.
"Praha. 5 Kilometers, no more Praha."
"Okay... thanks."
I got my things and got out on the side of the highway. I was there, though were exactly there was I had no idea. I saw a gas station 1000ft down the road and walked there. Inside I felt excited as I saw maps and an American style highway rest stop. I went directly to the counter.
"Do you speak English?"
"No, but he does." The clerk gestured to the manager in the back talking with a woman.
"Hello, I need to get a map so I can get to the train station."
The woman chimed in. "I'm going there, I can give you a ride." Prague became my favorite city ever at that second.
"Thank you so much."
We went outside and got in her car. The station was close.
"So how did you get to that gas station?"
"I was detained at the border, I had to hitchhike."
"I used to do that years ago, that's why I picked you up."
"Thank you so much. What do you do now?"
"I manage a four star resort, there's a branch in Nepal, so I'm usually there, but there's one in Prague so I'm here for the month."
"Wow."
"So do you have enough money for a ticket?"
"No, will it not take a card?"
"No, here take this." She gave me 30 crowns. More than the 20 needed for the subway fare.
"Thank you."
"Here we are, just go down that ramp and the station is right there."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome."

I still don't know where she was from or what her name was.

I called the girls who had called me earlier and told them to meet me at the train station which I would be arriving at shortly. Then I went to Florence train station, still the only place I had a name for in Prague. I arrived and went to an ATM across the street to get some cash. When I got back to the station NYU had arrived to greet me. I ran and tackeled her screaming about nothing except seeing a friendly face. She asked me to explain but I said it was a long story and I'd tell it when we got back to Old Town where the other girls were waiting to get dinner. When we arrived they all wanted to know my ordeal. Just as I got prepared to launch into it a man off the street approached.

"Hey man, you want some weed? Hash?"

I said no.