January 12, 2015

The following is a “To Be Continued”, with the next part coming tomorrow. The events occurred a month ago, but are still an issue today. We are just now about to get back to this since government offices are now open from the holidays. We ask your fervent prays for this, as we know that only God can clear the way.

Thank you, Natalie

Bureaucracy-December 12

In the past few weeks, we have had several opportunities to see how things work here. Our biggest experience and one that is not complete is the importing of Solarbags. Our original plan was to have them brought in a container owned by a friend. It seemed like a great idea, until we found out that he already had three containers waiting in customs here, and that the one we hoped to use was going to be delayed being sent for a few months because of the other containers.

Plan Two was put together by our Board President. He connected with a well-known shipping company, and was able to send the 100 Solarbags to us for $300; more than we wanted to spend, but a reasonable rate since it covered customs, shipping and other fees.

After two weeks we were summoned to the shipping companies office (let’s just call them VPS), saying that we needed to pay $40 and we would be able to get our stuff. Of course we could not get it that day because it was in customs at the airport. They kept asking us if we needed to change the name on our items and if we had a broker; we did not really know what that meant, but in hindsight it would have given us a clue.

A week later, they called to say that we had two choices. 1) Get a importers license (I can only imagine how long that will take!) or 2) change the name on our packages to Stephen Marc Goff instead of NResponse2-Stephen Goff- very confusing, right? We opted for the second, with the understanding that by paying $15 to change this that we would get our packages.

The next step was to be directed over to the office at the airport. After talking with them, they made it very clear that we were on our own once we had the paperwork in our name. This should have been clue #2. A woman walked us about three blocks to a place where about 40 people were standing around waiting. There was a large gate and it was clear that only the right people could go in. The security guard looked at our paper work, and Stephen was the right person and I was not. For the next three hours he was on the inside and I was waiting with the lady who sold food, tape, and rented out chairs. Being the only gringa in the area invites a lot of attention. A man talked with me for about an hour, sharing with me that he had been waiting for his girlfriend for about three hours. He was very familiar with this process, which allows Nicaraguans to receive $500 worth of things every six months. I saw a lot of big screen TV boxes, beat up boxes with clothes and shoes tumbling out, and knowing that money was changing hands. My time outside had frustration, kindness, and some understanding as I saw people turned away from receiving their things as well as was offered a seat for free from the kind lady with chairs and supplies. Later, I saw this same lady who was 50ish, thinly built and in high-heels give a right handed hook to a man who was pestering her. The time was boring, but definitely not dull!

What I did not know during my three and a half hour wait was what was happening inside the gate.

The first thing he heard when he was released into the area was “Administracion”.  He headed toward a series of doors, and number 3 was Administracion. He thought, “This is going well”. The administrator stamped his paperwork, and then he was off to the next line. For the next two and a half hours, he was shuffled from one place to the next, asked to make photocopies in an unknown location, asked to make more photocopies that then were not required, and finally being asked to buy tape so that he could tape up his stuff after it was gone through. The door of hope opened again as he was let into a caged area so that he could open the boxes sent to us. He saw, he touched, and then he was escorted out of the room, thinking that there must be one more thing to sign and then someone will bring the items. I saw him through the gate at this point; he was happily walking toward an office. I was watching employees leave the primacies.

About 20 minutes late he walks to the gate with no boxes, and he can’t seem to get a word out of his mouth. Finally he says, “I have to come back tomorrow, because they are closing for the day”. The absurdity of it all was somewhere between laughing and crying.