El Commandante

This is the Commandante of the Ensenada Airport, reviewing my aircraft documents and making a mental calculation as to whether this is going to be a good day or  bad day for Senor McNabb.  He officially reports to the aeronautical authorities in Mexico City, meaning that he reports to no one.  And so he controls the dispensing and approval of flight plans;  he directs the recently post-pubescent military police with M16 rifles and a gaunt, paranoid drug sniffing German Shepard who inspect the aircraft; and he lords over the customs and immigration officials, not really in his department, who have the authority to either stamp your passport and enter your name in their log or to send you on a three hour spree through downtown Ensenada attempting to pay a special fee at an unnamed bank.

The Commandante is the final arbiter of where you can fly and land, when you can do it, and how much it's going to cost you to do so.  The approval stamp in his top right drawer represents the demarkation between misery and freedom, between being told you've entered the country illegally and your helicopter is being confiscated, and being allowed to briskly walk out to your helicopter and take off before he changes his mind.


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Location:Ensenada, Mexico