A
coyote, a jackal and a hyena ridens were just waiting for the closing
time of the customs offices.
We
arrived at about 11 am disembarking from the ferry that transported
us from the coast of Senegal to the shore of Mauritania. We parked
our campers exactly where the custom officials indicated near some
very long trucks. And here we are waiting with patience due to take
place the processing of paperwork, snooping around, chatting amongst
ourselves, also enjoying and admiring the arrival of an army of
camels to be ferried themselves on the opposite bank.
There
is much coming and going of people and even our documents ... always
missing something or the person who is dealing with the border has
left something ... unintentionally of course …
We
are close at 18 ... the customs closing time …
A
customs officer enter our camper ... one dressing the uniform ... not
as the one that goes back and forth with our documents.
He
inspects every corner, puts hands thoroughly in every drawer, makes
me empty that cartoon containing bottles of tomato, makes me unwrap a
couple of little packages that protect carefully delicious little
black angels ... finds nothing attachable and exits.
He
did not recognize those 5 cm of alcohol (the residue of my
limoncello) in plastic bottle of 75 cl in the fridge. He did not
comment on those empty bottles of beer and water collected in
cardboard under the table. Yet we know that can not be over.
Indeed
prior to this the jackal claimed his reward for having "helped"
to get rid of four bottles of beer Gazelle ... how?
The
jackal who took care of our documents was actually the henchman of
the customs officers; among other things he had recognized some of
our fellow travelers in transit from the border of Rosso the previous
year.
“Avez-vous
de l'alcool?
"No,
monsieur, pas de l'alcool
After
the second denial he repeats the question replacing the object and
moving his head in the affirmative:
"Avez
vous de la bière?
He
was frantic in his questioning and to my affirmative answer jumped
into our camper:
“Vite
… vite... ils arrivent … vite ... vite ... où sont les
bouteilles?
and
increasingly frenetic he "suggested" to pour it in the
toilet
"où
est l'eau?
But
despite the mood was increasingly frantic as if there were to be a
squad of soldiers with machine guns ready to shoot, I run
imperturbable the actions to get rid of the contents of four bottles
of La Gazelle from the supermarket of Dakar to bring as present to
our sons (by mistake we had bought those for which you pay the void,
perhaps less than 5 € in all).
"Il
faut 200€
"No,
je vais demander Michele
Seven
campers inspected, customs officers have found only three
infringements deserving a fine per capita of over 2000 € negotiable
to go down to 275 € each, by issuing regular report after having
withdrawn the passports of the three owners of the vehicles.
As
for us, there was no clear evidence that the customs officer had
detected a breach of law in Mauritania which prevents the import of
alcoholic beverages.
So
why pay?
The
hyena ridens was leaning against our camper while the jackal kept
running frantically from one to the other campers lined up ready for
the exit from the customs gate. I could hardly see the coyote. Was
this the trio that would have to "escort" our caravan out
through the gates of the customs?
Yes,
they were.
The
200€ dropped to 150€, withdrawn from the jackal and obviously
without any verbal.
Running
engines, a woman customs official checks the body temperature to each
of us as we approach the gate; the hyena ridens greets me with a
grin, "Au revoir, Madame!". I look at him in the face and
show my teeth in a fake smile.
It
seemed all over.
Instead
the jackal and the customs officer who had inspected our camper
arrived running:
"ne
m'a pas donné l'argent, est-ce pas? Is the gasping question of the
frantic jackal who does not receive a response but only a gesture
annoyed of the hand as if to say "Fuck you"
The
escort accompanies us outside the gates; some campers along the
kerbside are waiting the last and then drive to the customs parking
where passports and payment reports will be given back. Here we
spend the night.
Question:
if we had not paid what would have happened?
