Evidently pepper spray is a prohibited weapon in Canada. Never mind the fact that it successfully journeyed on numerous chicken buses throughout Guatemala and Nicaragua, and all the way down to Panama, crossing countless borders with barely a blip. Canadian customs officials simply cannot abide the presence of pepper spray in Canada.
As a result of carrying a tiny can of pepper spray, I was questioned three times, and had to fill out two forms to "abandon" my pepper spray to the Crown. What, exactly, is the Crown going to do with it, I'd like to know?
I can procur another can easily enough. It's just $7 down at the local outdoor outfitter. I'll just miss this last can---the countless hours I spent with it clutched in my sweaty palm, walking to work through catcalls past "bars" (AKA fronts for prostitution). It's the can I gripped as I escaped from a overly zealous suitor through the streets of Xela. It's the spray I contemplated using when I was trapped in an taxi cab with two vaguely threatening men, and that offered me a bit of confidence as I walked down the heavily guarded Panamanian streets. That pepper spray saw me through some interesting times.
Goodbye, pepper spray. Goodbye, old friend.