Another Close Call: Crossing into Panama

Lined up against the wall in the bleak and stiflingly hot warehouse, I was little concerned, after all I had nothing to hide. My fingers pressed clammily onto the faded and peeling yellow paint which, rather than crumbling at the touch appeared to melt in my hands. The corrugated iron roof sweated and sighed in Read more about Another Close Call: Crossing into Panama[…]

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