Shakedown Cruise

Our arrival in Gao was not the stuff of tickertape and marching bands. Not that we would ever expect that given there are no marching bands in Gao and I don't even know how to say stock market in French. Instead we were greeted by a small minded greedy border guard looking to cash in on some stimulus rebate residue. Everybody does it. As per usual border etiquette he politely asked to see documentation, carefully read my passport in the upside down position and gathered the rest of the group's documents. After his equally exhaustive examination of the others, he then placed them all in his size XXXX-LARGE jacket pocket. That was no small feat since there was probably a half of a roasted chicken in there too. This move caught me by surprise as the same procedure had been practiced over and over again during this journey, except the guard always hands back the passports. I questioned his intent and he rattled off something about security, immigration,  for our protection, and pass the couscous in really bad French. Our new friends on the bus even chimed in with some hearty teeth sucking and loud questioning - all to no avail. Officer Doofy had our documents and there was nothing this side of a Ho-Ho™ that any of us were going to do about it. He finally assured us he would ride his moped in some circus-like fashion behind the bus and greasy hand-deliver them to the immigration officer in town. This did not make me feel better. We dropped our bags at our guest house and made our way to the immigration office in the center of the city. The officer was a very friendly man and thankfully our passports were laying on his desk when we arrived. He had us fill out some paperwork and requested a 'payment' for his services. We made what is called a counter offer on this payment and quickly settled. All that for a bribe, and to think I would have just paid him at the gate.