A few weekends ago some friends and I went to Rio de la Pila in Santander . It was a warm Friday night so we sat on a set of stairs overlooking the rio while drinking a beer. All of a sudden cop car parks in front of us and the officer locked eyes with us. My heart dropped and images of a cold jail cell, packed bags, airplanes, and paying expensive fines crossed my mind. The two officers got out of their car, puffed up their chests, and tightened their belts. They asked for our ID’s and we handed them over quickly. They asked where we lived so we each gave our Santander addresses with confidence. They looked at each one of our passports and started scribbling on his tablet. We sat in silence for a minute until I built up the confidence to politely ask what the problem was. Drinking isn’t allowed in public (even though everyone does it) . We were exploited because we are foreign while the groups of Spaniards across the street and groups sitting above us were left alone.
I asked what will happen now, what they were writing down and how much the ticket would be. He replied in a casual tone of voice, “nada.” He explained in spanglish that we don’t have to pay anything since we’re foreigners, and nothing was going to happen to us except we have a “record.” He explained that for us, the record doesn’t actually mean anything unless we commit a horrible crime like murder. By this point it just felt like a joke because even the officers were rolling their eyes and making jokes as they wrote us up. After he finished scribbling, he handed us our passports back, and told us to enjoy the rest of our stay in Spain. They didn’t make us move, dump out our drink, or do anything. It’s our new running joke, “remember that one time we got written up by the cops in Spain?”
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