Meghan: To check our bags I guess. The Chilean border is always more strict than Argentina's.
Rachael: (to the officer) Do I put my bag here? I don't have luggage below the bus, just my backpack.
Rachael: No, I am not. No type of food what-so-ever.
Officer1: I am going to have to hand check your bag.
Rachael: (Confused because they didn't find anything) Sure.
Rachael: Todo esta bien? Is everything alright?
Officer1: Si... wait here a minuet.
Officer1: You can go in now.
Rachael: Hi, what can I do for you?
Officer2: Please show me your identification (takes my Chilean ID and my passport and then looks through every card, bill and piece of paper in my wallet)
Officer3: Rachael, why are you going to Chile?
Rachael: I live there, I am studying abroad in Valparaiso.
Officer2: Are you carrying any drug paraphernalia with you across the border such as (starts listing words for drug paraphernalia that I don't understand)
Rachael: I don't know what those things are (thinking to myself, because this isn't my first language and I am not a drug dealer...)
Officer2: (in a very, very slow, monotone voice) Do... you... speak... Spanish?
Rachael: But you checked all of my stuff...
Officer2: We need to check it again.
(Officer2 dismantles every single thing in my backpack. Those with favorite hiking bags know that everything has its own special place and also knows that you can fit a lot of stuff in those pockets)
Officer2: (throws everything into the main pocket of my bag, and stuffs everything in there[probably because it smelled so rank]) Okay, you are good.
Rachael: ...So you didn't find anything.
Officer2: You can go now.
Rachael: (Hugging my backpack to me like a long lost friend) Chao.