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Arjewtino
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was wrong: Guatemalans love Argentines. Especially our money.
My otherwise amazing week-long trip to Guatemala with The Princess (more on that tomorrow) was capped off Friday night with the discovery that my wallet was stolen. An online check of my bank account activity confirmed my suspicions — somewhere between Panajachel, Solola, Chimaltenango, and Antigua, sometime during the six hours it took us to travel the seemingly insurmountable distance, at some point while riding four different chicken buses, someone lifted mi billetera out of my backpack.
The thieves were good, too, since my backpack was on me or near me at all times. Maybe they took advantage while I took a Dramamine-fueled nap, or when chatting with the locals about my trip, or while teaching Mayan children some English phrases.
And they were fast. By the time I was able to contact my bank and credit card companies, they had spent about $2,000 on a shopping spree of what appeared to be mostly electronics and gas.
My credit card company urged me to file a police report since they would be investigating my fraud claim.
The Princess’ guidebook to Guatemala, on page 278, gives the following advice when reporting a robbery or theft:
After a theft you may need a statement from the police for your insurance company. Tell them: ‘Yo quisiera poner una acta de robo’ (‘I’d like to report a robbery’). This should make it clear that you merely want a piece of paper and aren’t going to ask the police to do anything active.
Read that last sentence again:
This should make it clear that you merely want a piece of paper and aren’t going to ask the police to do anything active.
Of course not. Why would I want the police to help me in any way?
After canceling my bank cards, The Princess and I took a rickety tuk-tuk at 8:30pm to the “mobile police unit” in Antigua, a dingy bungalow where two police women told us to sit down and someone would come by in “diez minutos” to take my info. (Everything in Guatemala takes ten minutes.) They continued to watch telenovelas on a mini-TV, so I decided to take time to read their Jesus-themed motivational posters plastered on the wall. My favorite one read:
“If you’ve lost money, you’ve lost a little; if you’ve lost friends, you’ve lost a lot; but if you’ve lost your faith in God, you’ve lost everything.”
A police-sponsored tuk-tuk finally sputtered by and picked us up, taking us to a second police station near Antigua’s bus depot. This location was called Politur and, I was told, specialized in crime against tourists.
We walked into the stone building and met a young police officer who asked me where I was assaulted. I told him I wasn’t assaulted, that I only wanted to report a theft. He tentatively took out a nubby pencil and began taking notes on a piece of previously used scratch paper.
He asked for my passport and wrote down my name. Then he wrote down my date of birth. He stared at it for 30 seconds. What incredible police work could he be doing so soon, I thought, what astute display of crime-solving could he already be up to?
“Treinta-y-dos años!” he shouted with glee, after carefully divining my age.
“Si, tengo treinta-y-dos años,” I replied.
He continued for several minutes scribbling down information before I told him all I wanted was a police report. He called who I assumed to be his supervisor. A middle-aged man walked in and began to ask me the same questions his underling had already asked.
I asked him for his name as politely as I could. He proudly swept back his jacket to reveal his name badge barnacled on his clay-brown shirt.
“Jorge,” he replied. “Soy el Director.”
I turned to the officer taking down my information and asked him for his name. I expected him to reply with a similar, authoritarian-sounding honorific as well, like “Agente Oficial Perez” or “Señor Agente Dominguez”. Instead, he smiled broadly and answered simply, “Sebastian!”, showing the same zeal as a Boy Scout who’s cooked his first marshmallow.
I explained that all I wanted was an official-looking document showing that a theft was committed against me. They looked at me like I had requested to meet the Pope.
We need a voucher from the bank showing that this crime was committed, Jorge explained.
I don’t have a voucher from the bank, I told him. The crime happened because I’m telling you it happened.
You’ll need to come back tomorrow, Jorge said.
I can’t, I’m leaving for the U.S. All I need is a police report.
Well, Jorge answered, the printer’s out of ink.
The Princess had to stand up and walk away because she thought she was going to laugh so hard.
Out of ink, I thought, I can’t get a friggin’ police report because they’re out of ink?
We’ll have it for you tomorrow, Jorge added, come by at 8 or 9am.
It’s 10pm, I thought, is the Ink Store opening at some point in the middle of the night?
I thanked them for their time and left. A couple of police officers gave us a ride to our hotel room in the back of a police truck, eliciting some stares from passers-by near the market.
The next morning we returned at 9am. The police report wasn’t done. Jorge walked by me without even a “Buenos dias”. Sebastian, now in civilian clothes, said “Hola” and walked out, ending his shift. I sat down at the same desk as the night before, in front of a new police officer, and asked for my police report for the robbery.
Ok, he said, taking out some scratch paper. Where were you assaulted?
The police report I eventually received:
The Politur station in Antigua:
Politur’s fleet of tuk-tuks:
Comments
Did you go all Morty Seinfeld on the Guatemalans? “MY WALLET’S GONE! MY WALLET’S GONE!!”
I also donned a patient’s robe and refused to pay my medical bill.
This is what happens when you have more teachers than soldiers. Or is that Costa Rica? Or Cuba? Or Vermont?
There is little more entertaining than seeing a young soldier guarding Coca-Cola bottles with a big gun.
I’m just glad you didn’t say have your bright yellow Jew Patch on. They may have just shot you on the spot.
They love the Jews there. There was a jewelry store in the Antigua market called Estrella de David.
Where is this Bachovia bank you are a member of?
I know, I even wrote it down for them. Better than banking at TunSrust, I guess.
Hahahahahaha!!! This is way, way too good! Reading your post was like being back home (most particularly homecounty A).
Higher points:
a) police informality.
b) procedure: repeating the same questions as the day before
But my favorite part is the letter!! It reads half like a document, half like an informal email: “no se dio cuenta a qué hora…” And your bank! Bachovia!
Too good, too, too good.
I do have to say, though, as much as this kind of behavior is unnerving on their part, is what makes it also endearing. This is how Latin America operates.
Oh, believe me, I took it all with a sense of humor. It was entertaining and the only thing that could make me laugh that night after losing out on my monies.
I fucking hate Bachovia. Bitches never get back to me when I get robbed.
Bachovia also puts you on hold for 10 minutes when you’re trying to report a theft.
I love a good giggle in the morning….
This reminds me of being in Paris and having to explain to a socialized medicine doctor that I had an earache. Apparently, talking progressively louder in English doesn’t help.
Using your hands a lot in an animated display does, though, I’m told.
This post made my degree in Spanish & Latin American cultures worth every minute spent.
It wasn’t even that challenging, I should have written it out completely in Spanish.
Sorry you got burglared. Did you manage to buy my present before the crime occurred? I hope so!
Unfortunately, your “present” was in the same pocket in my backpack as my wallet. Whoops.
It just warms my soul to see grown adults being so obviously proud that they can remember their own names. If only they would apply that same joie-de-vivre to printer maintenance…
I actually had my CC company hold up a purchase I was making a few years ago. They seemed to think it suspicious that a person would buy a TV, stop for gas, then buy a DVD player at a different store. Turns out I had stolen my own credit card. Who knew?
Sorry you got thiefed, but as usual you make an excellent story out of it.
I was actually upset my CC and bank didn’t stop the spree earlier. Why would I spend thousands of dollars on electronics in Guatemala? Come on, Bachovia!
Why DID you shop for a TV and DVD player at two different locations?
i’m sorry that happened. this is why you should wear a fanny pack, though. one like , if possible.
I was wearing a cash strap under my shorts, but I felt the wallet bulged too much so I put it in my backpack. Smooth move.
Seriously, he couldn’t think of a better story than the printer was out of ink? That is such an unbelievably lame excuse…but at least we got the report. I had very little faith that it would ever actually appear. It’s a good thing that the Guatemala Ink Store is open 24/7!
I know, how many printing emergencies have been saved by the Ink Store’s convenient hours??!!
You are such a realist that you were not surprised when the report wasn’t ready Saturday morning. I was genuinely shocked.
Damn that really sucks. This is definitely a story I didn’t want to see.
Here is what I carry around when I travel:
http://www.eaglecreek.com/accessories/security_id/UnderCover-Hidden-Pocket-40024/
That’s pretty much the same strap I was using except it WASN’T HOLDING MY WALLET. I’m an idiot.
That will show you! Missing my birthday=getting robbed! haha just kidding
Joanne=specious reasoning.
Sorry i missed it, send me some photos.
those pesky thieves also stole my desire to comment on this post….oh crap, too late.
It was either because of competing sales at Best Buy and Circuit City, or because Circuit City didn’t carry the DVD player I wanted. I don’t remember.
Thousands of dollars? Couldn’t you pretty much buy all of Guatemala for a couple grand? I guess it depends on the exchange rate…
You could certainly buy off their drainage system. Can’t even flush toilet paper down the mother-effing toilet!
Sorry you got robbed!! Vacations should never involve two things: the cops or emergency rooms. Reminds me of the time I had to find a doctor in the Bahamas after blowing out my eardrum diving. Never involved the cops, though.
Wow, I think I’d rather lose temporarily $2,000 than face a blown eardrum! You’ve got to write a blog post on that!
the guatemalan authorities can take pride in the fact that they move faster than the DC dmv.
and they didn’t charge you a ‘lost wallet’ excise tax.
They came close to charging me a “You’re talking to the police” tax, which runs about Q5.
Obviously, the lesson to take away from all this is to carry around multiple kinds of printer ink during all international traveling. One never knows when a full ink cartridge will stand between the tourist and oblivion.
I carry around random rolls of masking tape in case of nuclear holocaust; ink cartridges have now been added to my arsenal.
Oh man. This sucks. I can’t believe that happened. Did you like the country otherwise? I can’t believe the thieves bought gas. That says a lot.
Yeah, they needed to keep their joyride of American extravagance going before it ran out. $2,000 translates to about Q15,000, which could buy a small army.
I have to be honest, the American police are not much better.
My car was broken into and had the following conversation some time ago:
Phil: Yes, my car was broken into and I had a ____ stolen.
Police: OK.
Phil: …..so…….
Police: …….and what would you like us to do?
Phil: um..I don’t know…maybe come out here, look for clues?
Police: We don’t really do that.
Phil: Really?
Police: No, but we will write a report.
Phil: Well, that will be great!
I gave them all my information and I’m sure it was placed neatly in a file cabinet somewhere.
(I really don’t expect them to do much in these cases…I”m just sayin’…)
Was he Guatemalan…?
This reminds me of my Mexico in a way. Third world Latin American countries…gotta love ‘em! You’re pics were awesome, glad you had fun and sorry about the Argentinian loss…I had you in mind when Argentina decided they would give away a point to Brazil…boludos!
Man, that really sucks.
I was robbed in San Pedro Sula (yes, different country, I know). They took my glasses — prescription and no good to anyone else unless he has the exact same level of myopia and astigmatism that I do — out of my daypack as I got off the bus. Someone whispered, “Te roban” as it happened, but I was too busy being careful not to be robbed to notice.
When I did notice — after the cab driver took me the two blocks to my hotel, I was told, “Well, Christmas is coming, you know.” I guess the prepared Honduran thief gets his shopping done early.
I can’t help but wonder if it DID happen on the bus, whether anyone saw and if they did, whether they chose not to say anything.
[…] synonymous with “vagina bundles” in England and would protect me from evil Guatemalan thieves. But they’re still fanny packs and I’m pretty sure Johanna would stop talking to me if I ever […]
Arjewtino,
They probably chose not to say anything. I was walking in Tegucigalpa, minding my own business, and someone grabbed the hat off my head.
I am not making this up. It was a cheap gimme hat and someone snatched it off my head.
I noticed almost immediately and saw the guy. It took me a second to think of the word for “thief” in Spanish. (I’ve heard you pray, count and make love in your native tongue, no matter how many languages you speak — perhaps you also respond to theft in your native tongue.) Once I remembered, I started shouting, “Ladron! Ladron!” and runing after the guy, which wasn’t easy because I was wearing my backpack. Oh heck — I’d be slow without the backpack.
So I am running and yelling and no one is doing a darn thing to help. Finally, I stop. I am so mad that I say to a bystander, “This is how you treat visitors to your country?”
He replied, “He could have a gun, you know.”
I guess nobody wants to get involved.
Wow, great story c-f! Yelling ladron in Guatemala is like whining about the Metro in DC, I guess. No one does a thing about it.
hey, interesting story, i must say it has happen to me in new york, houston, italy and all this signs on the walls warned me it would happen in amsterdam.
unfortunatelly, it happen to me in new york, and had to fill a police report also,.. poor people, they think treating bad to others, makes them more powerfull, police men at that office and the report were useless, i was better of alone.
i bet guatemala officials saw that like a typical day at work,. “ok ok it happen to you,..tomorrow it would happen to more people, whats the big deal, is just money”,..i think is the same way they think in new york, it happens all the time, at time square, 5th avenue, or where ever, and like they said to me “ur in a foreign country, take ur precautions, it happens all the time, take a sit will be with u in a moment”,.. man turned out to be 45 min or so..i went out more than an hour later.
i thought,. “they are right, this aint no problem, they dont even care”,..i think they were still thinkin about 911 and new york at that time, now theres a real problem,.
[…] Still, EG has come out of retirement to do the one thing he has done best since becoming my virtual hermano — make fun of Argentina. Here is an e-mail he sent me that he graciously allowed me to convert to a guest blog post. At least he didn’t steal my wallet. […]
[…] dousing games to test my strength on Thor’s Hammer. I pounded that fucking lever like it was a Guatemalan trying to steal my wallet four times but not once came close to making the top bell ring. As I left, humiliated and sure The […]