Since we've talked about US and Canadian customs and border patrols, I might as well be fair and throw in a couple of stories about their Mexican counterparts.
The only place I ever went into Mexico loaded was at Tijuana. We had a customer there who hot capped truck tires and we'd sometimes take a full or partial load of strip rubber to them. Going in was no hassle as it simply involved picking up the paperwork at the brokers office in San Ysidro and crossing the border. Mexican customs never did anything other than look at the paperwork and wave us through. Coming out was no problem either because we were always empty.
The only bad thing about the whole experience was that they were a COD customer and, at first, we might leave Mexico with $40,000 US in cash! That's a good way to get knocked in the head!
Today, it would get you jailed. Later, we began picking up cashiers checks at the brokers, so that headache was eliminated.
Over at Mexicali, we'd go in empty and come out loaded and that was a whole 'nuther deal. Going in, Mexican customs wouldn't even bother looking in the trailer. It was just "Adios!" We only took the trailers as far as their custom drop-lot and a Mexican driver would take on down into Baja to get it loaded. He was usually drunk by noon and if you brought him a quart of US beer with the trailer, you'd usually get it back quickly.
Coming out, the broker sent a guy named Lokio down to shepard the trailers through. There might be one or two or three and we couldn't come out until all of them were there. Lokio would grease the process by carrying the paperwork into the office and doing something (probably el mordisco!) Then, we'd just be waved on across the little bridge to US Customs!
Once, though, I was coming out alone and something was going on because the little office was full of brass from Mexico DF (Mexico City). Even Lokio couldn't prevent my being stopped at the last instant by a little fat guy with half his uniform shirtail hanging out and his hat on crooked. He ran out and hollered, "ALTO!"
So, I alto-ed and a gaggle of high ranking officers strolled out and gathered up at the back of my trailer. Lokio stood there looking confused while the little fat guy stood right at my drivers side headlight watching what they were doing back there. I didn't have a clue what was going on and it crossed my mind that someone may have loaded something illegal into my trailer and I could easily end up in a Mexican jail!
Let me tell you....that's a sobering thought! I was in THEIR country, not mine, and their criminal justice system isn't based on English Common Law like ours and the accused is considered guilty until proven innocent. They have no habeus corpus nor any obligation to charge you with a damn thing. They can literally hold you for life without your ever knowing why. The US was just right there, about a hundred yards away across a little bridge (or, so I thought at the time), but it might as well have been on the moon right then.
The Jefe's were all around the back of my trailer and some underling was directed to go underneath it, where he squatted down in front of the first axle. Fat guy waved me on, so I released the parking brake, at which time they all jumped out and hollered, "ALTO!"
I alto-ed again and they went back to whatever it was they were doing. Fat guy waved me on again and we went through the same routine except this time it was "ALTO, GODDAMIT!"
The last thing I wanted to do was tick them off!
This whole affair had been going on now for about 10 minutes and Lokio appeared to be as clueless as I was...so I started planning my escape! I was ready to abandon the truck and try to outrun them across that little bridge to the safety of the US Customs gate at the other end. There were two roads which led from that gate, one up the hill to the left and the street, and the other up to the right to the Customs inspection shed. I didn't learn until later that the border wasn't actually until the top of the hill! The point being, though I didn't know it right then, is that even had I made it to the gate, I'd still be in Mexico and they'd have gotten me right there! And, of course, after having run from the truck, it would have been far worse for me!
Oh...the missed opportunities to REALLY screw up your life!
Finally, they let me go and I got out of Mexico intact.
But, a few weeks later I was down there again and discovered just how bad my escape plan REALLY was! My chances of having made it across that bridge afoot were far, far worse than I'd imagined!
This week, some drug cartel had publically threatened to snatch a US officer right off the border and kill him, so both sides of the border were crawling with cops of all kinds. I'd never seen that many guns since the Army!
Anyhow, while I was sitting there waiting for Lokio to do his thing, a uniformed officer stepped out of the Mexican customs office carrying the biggest rifle I ever saw. It was HUGE! It looked sort of like a BAR on steroids and was so heavy he carried it on a strap around his neck. It had a wooden stock and a barrel as big around as my thumb. The magazine was unusally long in both directions and I don't doubt it was at least a .50 calibre! I don't have any idea what it was and I've never seen one since.
What struck me, though, was the thought that had I panicked and ran away from the truck that other day, I'd have never made it across that little bridge, not with that thing available for use! They'd have cut me in half long before I reached the US side!
Ah, the joys of truckin'!
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Live in the San Antonio area so you might catch me in a year in a Swift truck if my other job plans don't happen.
