A Box of Trouble

About four years ago, on a summer student trip to Europe, one of our students had an interesting encounter with the law in Spain.  Where to begin…

I suppose I can start with a visit to the sword factory in Toledo, outside Madrid.  When we entered the factory with our eight high school boys, it was like setting six year olds free in a candy store.  They didn’t know what to touch or play with first.  Amongst the oohs and aahs was play fighting in the aisles, trying on the armour, and admiring the goods.  Some of them had been waiting for this stop as the place where they would buy their souvenirs, as opposed to places where the girls shopped for clothing and jewelry. 

Eventually everyone was on line at the cash register.  Trying to save money on shipping their purchases home, they opted to combine their items and carry their new belongings with them in one long sealed cardboard box.  They knew full well that they would have to carry it with them for the rest of the day since the return to our hotel was not until well after dinner.  They rationalized that they would take turns and it would not be a problem.

Our next stop was at the Museo del Prado, the main Spanish national art museum in the center of Madrid.  Sadly for me, no photos were allowed inside.  A few of the more well known artists who had works there were Diego Velazquez, Francisco Goya, El Greco, Titian, Raphael, Botticelli, Caravaggio, and Rembrandt.  As anticipated, the weapons box had to be checked at the front of the museum.  This was not a problem at all.  The boys were actually relieved to be able to put it down for an hour or so.

As was generally the plan, we had set up a time and place to meet outside the museum.  It was a very hot afternoon, close to 100 degrees F, and those who exited the museum first could be found trying to find a sliver of shade to hide in while waiting for our departure to dinner.  After counting our group, an obsessive practice I have as a group leader, I knew which students we were waiting for.  I finally saw the last straggler exit the museum with his box and spring down the long flight of stone steps.  As he did so, two Spanish police officers quickly approached him.

The Prado entrance

The others in our group were a little anxious that their friend might need help.  Of course I would have gone to his aid if he needed me, but he was a senior in high school and had taken four years of Spanish, so I allowed him the opportunity to have this experience alone.  After lots of hand gestures, the box was opened and two swords and a replica of a pistol were pulled out.  After a little more gesturing and pointing, the officers seemed satisfied and left.

When our student came over to our shady retreat, the other teens thronged around him to hear the details.  He was laughing as he recounted trying to tell the officers in his broken Spanish … "sword factory… part of a student tour…  the receipt…gun is not real…box was checked…American student..."  He admitted he was a little nervous, but it was an experience I know he will never forget. 

After dinner, we passed up the bus ride to the hotel and opted for additional free time in Puerta del Sol, which is a busy area in the center of Madrid with much to do.  At the end of a very long and hot day, we finally found the metro and made our way back to our hotel.  Box and all, the boys were great about taking turns being its keeper. 

The next day when boarding the bus for Seville, we decided the best new home for the boxed weapons for the duration of the trip would be in the upper rack over the bus seats.  It seemed to be a better idea than bringing them into and out of hotel rooms…

I wish I could say that was the end of our weapon woes, but alas it was not.  When we checked in at the airport in Lisbon for our flight home, we had to go through all sorts of forms, questions, and labeling of the box.  Supposedly it was labeled and cleared all the way to JFK now, to assure that our stopover in London would not present any additional flags. 

But it was not.  Some worker in Lisbon forgot to label the box as previously checked out so the student was detained and questioned extensively.  This time we did go directly to his aid and tried to answer all the questions swiftly and satisfactorily so as not to miss our connecting flight.

So what advice do I give to travelers wishing to buy swords and weapons as souvenirs?  Pay the money and ship them home.  That is certainly something I will insist upon on in future trips to sword factories.

PS – I didn’t even mention the switchblades that some of the boys purchased…luckily they were tucked away in their checked baggage.

Yes, one of these nice boys was the one who dealt with the Spanish officers.  Which one do you think it was?