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One very real part about living in other countries is the fact that you Never Really Live There.  You can be having the time of your life, seeing the sights, or even be renting an apartment…. But eventually the sobering thought of your visa expiring will inevitably come up.

Border runs are my least favorite part of living abroad.

Why?

Border runs can be dangerous, expensive, exhausting, and no matter how settled you feel in your country of choice, the fact is that once you leave the country, you might not be coming back.

I’ve heard countless stories of expats that just went for a quick run and were randomly denied re-entrance back into the country where they reside.  On other border runs I’ve been lost, separated from my friends and weaving on a motorbike through rows of men clad with military gear and machine guns.

Having just returned from a trip to Penang, Malaysia, I want to share my near-rape/ death threat/ sexual predator experience with you.

While I consider myself a savvy traveler, I found myself completely tricked by a con-artist predator under the guise of someone who wanted to help me.  My hope for you is that if you are in a similar situation that you find yourself more prepared and on guard should such a situation happen to you. So with that…. The Worst Three Days of My Life So Far…

I arrived in Malaysia about four hours after I was supposed to. My minivan driver was quick to drop off every passenger at their front doorstep but me.  He tried to drop me off at the mall and told me to get out and get a taxi.  After twelve hours of being packed into an uncomfortable seat and hauled across countries, I wasn’t having it.  I sorted out where the guesthouse was, and made him take me there.   Huffing and puffing madly on a cigarette, he drove the extra two blocks, being sure to give me dirty looks as often as possible.  I didn’t see the guesthouse, and sick of his shit attitude, just told him to pull off.  Luckily, I looked up and had arrived just where I needed to be.  Not a bad first start!

After going into the office, I realized my luck had changed. There was no way the visa run could happen, and even worse, we were coming up on a weekend where the office would be closed.  I was going to have to pay nearly twice as much as anticipated.  Crap!  I went down to the ATM to get out cash and it didn’t work.  Fuck.  I went online to my bank to call to verify the transactions in Malaysia and the internet crashed.  I was told it would be down for several hours.  I couldn’t win.

General Overview of my current situation:

• I couldn’t get my visa.
• I had no money, or not enough to get what I needed.
• I had no access to money.
• I had no internet.
• My Thailand phone didn’t work in Malaysia.

I knew I had enough money to spend the night and pay for the visa with the extra fees.  I also had some money towards getting back… but not all of it.  I couldn’t even think straight.  I had a very sleepless night.

The next day I decided to just go ahead and pay for the visa and see what happened.  I had been able to get online and through a combination of IM-ing my sister  while she accessed my bank account online, I chatted with my bank rep via Skype.  Thank god for technology.  My sister was able to type over all my account info for access (Wells Fargo online was not accessible from Malaysia) and I was able to get just a bit more money transferred and sorted.  It might be enough, but barely.

Meeting a Sexual Predator

I decided to go for a walk to clear my head.  I had to wait until four to get my visa back and then I could just hop a bus and pray to god I had enough dough to get back.  This is where I casually bumped into my new Sexual Predator friend, which I will kindly refer to as ‘SP’ henceforth. SP was with his friend and offered a warm smile that was refreshing after all the shit I’d been through.  He casually asked where I was from and it wasn’t long until I had unloaded my long list of unfortunate events that had transpired in the short time I’d been there.  He walked back to a lobby where I thought he was staying and offered to buy me a beer.  The next thing I know, I was laughing again and everything was seemingly OK.  His friend was nice, and I was feeling better just being around other people.

SP was great at saying just the right things and making me feel completely safe.  He warned me about border towns, told me to be on guard and assured me I was safe with them, but to be on the lookout for other people. His paternal attitude was nice, because I was scared, being a female on my own in a border town.  He was overwhelmingly helpful and trustworthy, which in retrospect absolutely pisses me off.  I now know that it was all just a part of the bigger game:  To win my trust and lead me into more and more vulnerable situations.

So that is how the day progressed…winning my trust, saying the right things, seemingly being kind and parental and then leading me away from other people. Also, as the day went on, it went from a group of us to just me and SP.  All of this was planned.  He was just so good at it that I couldn’t see it.  He acted as that enthusiastic tour guide… wanted to show me the beach “around the corner” and just up the road…etc.  It was all good and fun until I needed to get my stuff back (he had put it at his place where it “was safe” because people break into cars at the beach.  He didn’t invite me in initially, because he was a ‘gentleman, and would never do that’.  But was insistent that I come up to get it back.

Getting Locked Up and Threatened

When the plan was to go up together and get my stuff, I refused.  The last thing I wanted was to be alone in some strange man’s house.  This is where the serious manipulation kicked in.  “What, after all I’ve done for you, you don’t trust me?  Are you racist?  What, do you think I’m the type of person that would hurt you?  All I’ve done all day is be nice to you!” This went on and on until I felt like a complete asshole.  But, my gut instinct not to go was right.  The next thing I know, I’m padlocked INSIDE SP’s house and he’s pinning me down and forcefully kissing me.  I’m choking.  I’m crying.  I’m freaking out.  I don’t know what to do.  He backs off and plays Good Cop / Bad Cop and is confusing the hell out of me.

His behaviors are strange and unpredictable.  He is telling me I’m racist and unappreciative. He’s telling me he can rape me if he wants to, or he could have earlier that day.  He is backing off, and then getting scary.  I don’t know what to do.  I need my stuff in his room but I’m sure as hell not going in there!

Somehow, eventually, I got out of there.  It’s unclear to me exactly what I said or did to get him to stop and let me go.  I told him I wanted to go to spend more time with him, but not there.  Let’s go to that restaurant/ bar on the beach.  Finally, he agreed.

As soon as I was there, I spotted two English couples by the bar.  I needed to talk to them… but HOW?

I was trying to act entertained by SP but I hated him.  After being pinned down, pushed, and nearly dragged into his room, I wanted him gone.  I needed to get away. The problem was, he also knew the hotel I was staying.  After I had gotten my passport, I found out that all the buses were full for that day (or so I was told, but this could have been part of his plan).  I had to stay another night.  He had graciously offered to cover my ticket and room and I was happy (at the time) to return the favor when him and his friend came to visit.  But that was all part of the trick, and how he knew where I was staying.  So technically, even if I got away, he would just go to where I was staying.  I told SP I’d take a taxi back.  There was NO WAY I was getting back in to a car with him. He refused and was getting shitty again.  As we got up, I approached the couples at the bar.  I leaned in and told one of the ladies I was in an unsafe situation and I didn’t want to get in the car with this man.  They invited me to join them.

This is where I found out about SP.  One of the guys explained to me that this is what he does, and how he operates.  They always see him with girls that came by themselves for border runs.  Everything he had done had been staged since the first casual run in.  All of the seemingly spontaneous events were planned to the detail and the dialog was tried, practiced, and perfected.

About the time I’m realizing all of this, the situation at the bar is beginning to escalate.  SP is realizing he’s been found out and is not going down without a fight.  The nice people who had invited me to join them are now being harassed.  The guys had tried to let him know I’d be fine with them and the ladies said they’d invited me back for coffee.  But, he wanted to fight.

Running Away

Going into the details of my drawn out escape seems a bit tedious, but the highlights were this:  Nice couple #1 were almost in a full on bar fight with SP.  He had a bottle ready to break over SP’s head after being threatened to his limit.  We were all told he was in the Liberian Military and he was going to hunt us down, find us, and cut us up into little pieces.  On my third attempt to leave (SP kept coming back), he chased after me and grabbed my arm so hard that I shrieked in terror.  That must’ve done the trick because he finally released me for good.  I escaped with nice couple #2, found the car, and ducked down when we drove past him.  We all found ourselves adrenaline pumping and driving aimlessly, not sure what to do.

We decided it wasn’t safe for me to stay at the hotel, because it was just a matter of time until he got there.  We drove to the hotel, and I was shaking walking back to my room.  The light was on inside and I was terrified he was going to jump out of somewhere with a knife. I opened the door slowly and rushed in to grab my bag.  I couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

By this point, it was about 2am.  The hotel was about 30 minutes from their house and I had to be back at the hotel to be on the 5 am minivan leaving in just a few hours.

Making Better Choices

Nice couple #2 made up their spare room, arranged a taxi for me, and my faith in humanity was restored.  I don’t think I slept more than twenty minutes.  I spent the time reviewing the whole situation in my head.  What had he said?  How did I get into this mess?  But even after going through the whole thing in my head, I realized something VERY strange:

Even if I had the same situations to do ALL OVER AGAIN, I would have made the same choices.

Let me clarify….It wasn’t because I wanted this to happen again.  It was because every choice I made at the time was The Best Choice of the options that existed.  What he had done so well was to leave me the element of choice that lead me straight into the trap. This is how I was suckered and this is how he makes it all happen.  This is also why I felt so stupid when the whole thing was over.

Before I knew it, my 4 am alarm was going off.  I had enough time for a quick shower and quietly packed my things.  I went upstairs to wait for the cab.  I waited, and waited and it never came.  My God, is this EVER GOING TO END?!? I didn’t want to wake up the nicest couple ever; I had already gotten them into enough drama already.  Eventually, at 4:30 there was a stirring upstairs.  She came down and realized I was going to need a ride back to the hotel.

We all loaded up again, my heart pumping, realizing that I’m headed back into the war zone.  I tried to shake off the awful comments that kept popping into my head about what he was going to do to me.

It was dark, and we were driving fast, whipping around the turns and blasting through red lights.  He let out a chuckle and let me know that red lights in Malaysia are optional, and more of a suggestion than anything.  We all laughed.  God bless them.

My heart beat fast as we approached the hotel, but luckily there was a minivan loading up with people.  I thanked Nice Couple #2 profusely and nothing short of ran to get in the van.  About five minutes later, the driver let me know I was in the wrong van.  I was not on his list.  My heart sank.  I had to get out and wait in the scary, dark, open to alleyway lobby of doom. I jumped at every shadow for the next bit of forever.  Finally, a van arrived, but the driver told me not to get in.  I felt like I was in some kind of nightmare that would never end.  When it circled around again I hardly even believed it.  I held my breath until he told me to get in, and spent the next 100 kilometers  sitting rigidly awaiting the border.  Finally, we passed out of Malaysia and into the familiar ground of Thailand.

At the end of the day, I count my blessings that I’m still alive. In the future, and what I wanted to pass along to you are the following lessons.  I believe that everything happens for a reason, so maybe I’ve gone through all this to share my story so that the same thing will never happen to you.

Lessons From Border Runs

1. Bring more than enough dough.  I’ve been told not to in case you’re robbed, but after this experience, I’ll bring the cash every time.
2. Assume your ATM won’t work.  Many banks block other countries, even if they are just across the border.
3. Pretend the internet doesn’t exist.  It may be less likely for you to find a café or get access in another town you are unfamiliar with.
4. Don’t go alone.  If you have to, follow the above steps and pay more to stay somewhere that isn’t a backpacker hang out.  That’s where the SP’s prey.
5. Be very weary of anyone who approaches you.  Even if it seems by chance, it may not be.  You are not there to make friends, get your stamp and go home.
6. If you do find yourself in a situation, don’t be afraid to ask others for help.  If you are lucky, you may find an older couple, someone of the same sex, and hopefully someone local.  Asking for help is the only reason I’m alive today.

My hope is that you never have to experience anything this awful.  But, as it is a scary world out there, and there are people that want to take advantage of you, it is also comforting to know that there are great people who can come to your rescue when the shit hits the fan.