Criminal activity in PV

A little note on what NOT to do when in a foreign country: attempt to break into someone´s house.


Some background info:


On my last night in PV, after hiking with the couchsurfers, I was attempting to make it back to Paty´s house on my own. (She lives outside of town, a bit difficult to get to, and she had always drove me, so I had never got there independently before). Before I left, she reminded me that her house number is 238. That is important.

The bus system in Mexico is a bit confusing, to say the least, and there are a million different buses going everywhere and no one, even long time residents, seem to understand the system. You just hop on a bus and hope it´s going to take you to where you need to go. Since this is my third day in Mexico, I have no clue what to do, but everyone tells me I have to grab the bus from across the street from the Sheraton. So I go there, and wait patiently for my bus to come. I wait, wait, and wait a bit longer. I´m starting to get nervous because it´s getting late and the buses stop running at 11:30. I still haven´t seen a bus heading to where I need to go.

Finally, two of the couchsurfers who are waiting with me suggest I take any bus to Wal Mart (yes, there´s a Wal Mart in PV) and try get one there, as it´s a more popular spot. So I get to Wal Mart and it turns out that´s where I should have been in the first place. Ahhh the joys of taking public transportation in foreign countries. Luckily I get the last bus of the night, and even manage to get off at the right spot, on the side of the highway by an underpass.


I get to Paty´s compound. If you thought Canadian suberbs were boring and conformist, then you have to see this neighborhood. ALL the houses are EXACTLY the same. Not one distinguishing feature on any of them. I take a few turns and end up at house number 238. Something strikes me as off, but I can´t put my finger on it. But it has to be her place, it´s the right number after all, and there´s even her white Honda CR-V in the driveway. I can hear a lot of people talking inside, so I figure she must be having some people over. Since I´m sleeping on her futon in the living room and am exhausted, I´m not thrilled about this, but really, it´s not my house so I can´t complain.


I put my key in the door, and it goes in, but doesn´t turn properly. It´s my first time using it, so maybe it´s just a bit sticky. I start turning it more aggressively, but it still won´t turn. That´s when I hear everyone inside go quiet. A few people start making panic-sounding remarks in Spanish. Maybe this isn´t her place after all, I start thinking. Then someone starts shouting - I couldn´t understand the words, but the context was clear. ¨Who are you? What do you want?¨ I quickly decide I am in the wrong spot and I have to get out of here ASAP. I turn on my heel as fast as I can and start speed walking in the opposite direction (I didn´t want to run, as I thought that would bring extra unwanted attention to me). Too late. The door swings open and a man rushes out. I look for a plac to hide, but decide that will probably make me look more guilty. I freeze like a deer caught in someone´s headlights and start yelling anything I can in Spanish, while holding my hands in the air to show I´m unarmed. ¨Sorry! Mistake! Mistake! No problem!¨ He looks at me a few times suspiciously but then must decide that this stupid blonde girl yelling out random words in Spanish can´t be much harm, and slowly walks, backwards, back inside his house.


I finally make it back to Paty´s REAL house (which is also numbered 238 and also has a white CR-V parked in the driveway). I have two thoughts going through my head - why the hell are there TWO number 238´s and I have to learn this language better if I want to avoid getting myself into serious trouble.


The next morning I´m recounting the story to Gustavo, Paty´s boyfriend, who was raised in Texas. ¨You´re lucky this happened in Mexico,¨ he says. ¨If it had been Texas, they would have shot you automatically.¨ Just another reason, among many, why I do not want to go to Texas. Of course I keep this thought to myself.