Trouble With the Law

Calama

My eyes open for the first time into harsh, white light. My feet are freezing, and I tuck them up into the warm torso of my sleeping bag. I probably should have used my tent, but I had wanted to watch the desert stars. I breathe in the cold, dry air through my mouth. My nose has long since crusted with desert dust and dried snot.

The RentaCar agent dropped the keys into my hand and I walked outside into the desert, leaving piles of paperwork behind me. Natan (age 12) and I headed over to purvey our new path to freedom: a four-door truck like the Miners use to drive the desert roads. And the most important thing… beefcake four wheel drive!

“Welcome to Chile! You have 90 days to get out.”

This is essentially what our Chilean tourist cards told us. The deadline was to ensure that we enjoyed ourselves in their country, but didn’t stay and try to work, or worse, stay and mooch. Day 90 came and went while the four of us were finally reunited in Calama. We were pretty busy with a conference at the church, an overnight trip to see geysers, and another side trip to Iquique. A week after, Daniel was the first to make the “oh, crap!” realization. We decided that we needed to head down to the police station to inquire about our new illegal alien status.