Mexico is indeed the country of thieves

- The misfortune on Jan. 21, 2002 -

- Yucatan Peninsula -

When we were leaving the ruin, he told me he was running out of gas. I offered him to take some from my gas tank, but he answered to get it in some village nearby. We parted then. I drank a coke and left the ruin a little later. At the first village I found the Ducati parked on the side of the road. The probable wife was waving to me. She told me they couldn't get the gas. It was my pleasure and I parked my bike next to the Ducati. When I took out a Teflon pipe for extracting the gas form the tool bag, I saw Fernando taking the gas out of a truck parked at some distance away. Mexicans are also kind even to Mexicans. We promised to see again and parted for the second time. When I was leaving the hotel in Canpeche this morning, I found a car parked in front of the hotel entrance and could not pull the bike out. The hotel told me they did not know whose car it was. The truck that blocked the way and I asked to get moved yesterday was parked next to the car. If the truck was moved backward a little, I would be able to manage to pull the bike out. The man at the reception went to the residence of its possessor across the street, and he was told that the driver would not come back till tree in the afternoon. Then, he called the police or somewhere for me, but in vain. I told him that maybe I would have to wait all the day. He, after thinking for a while, opened the door of the room at the back of the courtyard and disappeared. I thought, "This is Mexico. I will be in trouble". However, he came back soon and told me there was another way to get out of the hotel form the back door, and asked me if I could manage to move the bike through the narrow passageway. He got rid of all the obstacles blocking the passageway. The bike passed through the narrowest door, which was the hardest part, leaving a marginal space of less than a inch. Mexicans are truly considerate.

I asked the people around me about what had happened. I was told someone took it and ran away. I still kept asking the passengers and the driver of the bus. Two police trucks happened to be passing by. The police suggested me to get on the passenger seat of the truck and take a patrol around the town for the search of the bag. I didn't like to leave the place, leaving the bike behind in a town of thieves like that. I noticed then that the truck with four policemen had disappeared and another truck with two policemen had been parked instead. The police assured me that it would be safe with the two policemen watching the bike. I couldn't feel like trusting even the police, but I got on the truck, persuading me into thinking that it would be OK with eight policemen already involved in that case. I believed the bag wouldn't be found. And, it wasn't in fact. I have made many trips to foreign countries, however, I have never been thieved. I have been on the way for more than seven months this time, however, what I have lost is only a pen-type flashlight. But, misfortunes abruptly came all together. It is reported that in South America a running-away robber was finally captured and he said, "OK, you win. I will give this back to you, but give me money instead". I now have a feeling that I would be happy to give money and even would say, "Thank you". Let me report the articles I have lost. The articles that are the bulkiest and gave me the biggest damage are the riding leather jacket and pants. Fortunately, I have another pair of thinner leather jacket and pants, however, the safety and insulation efficiency of them are quite doubtful. The polyester riding jacket can be substituted with a similar one, which will be purchased easily here. Or rather, it wouldn't be necessary because I have a rain suit. The fishing mesh vest might be hard to get. I sewed pieces of Velcro tape on the vest to fix the shoulder protectors for the use in the scorching tropics. However, if the same kind of vest is obtainable, it will be easy to give the same work. As I have always worn another vest with same tape, there will be no problem for my riding without it. However, it was handy with lots of pockets when I had to go out with small things. Concerning the tiny disk lock, I hope I will be able to buy at a BMW dealer where I will visit in Mexico City. I was too busy to read even a line of the book translated from Henry Thoreau's "Life in the Woods". I have lost the only Japanese book. The spare bungee cords bought in the US and the belts for tying up the luggage given by the Hungarian riders must be hard to find, however, the chain, padlock, sponge and cloth for washing the bike will be sold at any place. I have never used the mosquito coils and the burning tray for them, so let me forget about it. The plastic shopping bags in the side pocket of the bag are, of course, negligible. The CD's that had two copies of MP3 music as a future present, will be copied again when necessary, although I had to spend a lot of time to change Japanese music titles into English. With regard to the sub-bag itself, I bought two for both sides of the main bag and sewed tying belts with a buckle. The other one that I haven't use will be available. The nine packs of cigarettes I bought yesterday are the loss of $11. The 500 ml bottle of coke was already drunk half of it. I liked the set of knife, spoon and fork, however, I will use my fingers in the Indian way, which Mexicans also do often. For the loss of the cheap liquor left a little on the bottom of the bottle and the metal mug given by a woman rider in Nara, I already bought new ones today and I am now drinking.

This is never self-destructive drinking to cope with the misfortune. To my surprise, I myself am not angry or depressed at all. It is very strange that I am feeling as if it happened to someone else. Or rather, I am now feeling happy, being relieved from the heavy luggage. I might be becoming a person, little by little, as optimistic as a Latin American. If so, I am really happy. The Mexican version of the street vendor "Tora-san" said to me, "99 percent of the people are good in any country, but 1 percent of bad people exist". The thief of today is only one of the 1 percent. After suffering the theft, I took a shower at a cheap hotel, drank a small bottle of beer at a liquor shop and walked in the street, looking for the metal mug mentioned above. Two of unknown men asked me, "How are you?". I answered, "Not good. It's a bad day today". Then, the two began to talk about the theft. One of the two told me he witnessed the theft, while he was selling hot dogs near the parking. He didn't identify the thief, however, he regretted that he could not have done anything against the thief and worried about me. I bought him beer at a bar and he spoke gentle words to me that the next day he would cook seafood and deliver it to the hotel where I stay. 99 percent of people are surely good people.