A Little Bad News

I guess it had to happen sooner or later.

And I suppose I can't complain too much about my first piece of bad luck coming after having been on the road for nearly three months - I had a pretty good streak going there, really. So, in the relating of the following unfortunate story, I'll do my best to look on the bright side, but it's still pretty fresh, so bear with me.

I left the beautiful beaches of Mazunte a few days ago, on a Tuesday morning, after a lovely eight-day pause - my longest yet. I had soaked up a good deal of sun, made full use of the ocean - swimming daily - and met some interesting and friendly beach folks. I was ready for a change, however, I thought to myself as I packed up my little tent and made for the street.

I had planned to make my way out to San Cristobal de las Casas, a reportedly beautiful old city nestled in the mountains of Chiapas, but it seemed a bit far to travel in one day, so I broke the journey in two, stopping at the close of my first day in a little Oaxacan town by the name of Tehuantepec. It was a dingy little place, but I found a cheapish hostel and enjoyed the quiet and privacy of a room to myself after so many nights on the sand.

A good place to take stock, and assess things a little before moving on, I told myself. I laid out all my belongings - not much really - and put aside some of the rattier items to be considered for dismissal or repair. I know many of you will likely be laughing, but I take some pleasure in such things, and sat happily into that first evening, hand-sewing torn pants, or mending buttons here and there.

The following morning, as the noon sun rose high and the wind picked up some, I set about hand-washing my clothes on the little concrete roof-top washboard - I had gone to drop them off for cleaning earlier, but none of the lavanderias in town could have my things ready until Friday. Besides, I still had some leftover laundry soap that I'd been carting around since the Baja, and nothing better to do this fine day.

The other thing is that laudry service here can be quite expensive - sometimes as much as 6USD or so for a medium sized load. Despite having just spent a relatively cheap 8 days on the beach, I'd been thinking a bit about money-matters recently - I still have a lot of miles ahead of me - and so was happy to do my best to conserve wherever possible. Every little bit helps.

Anyway, Thursday morning I packed up and made for the bus station early, and finding that there were no direct buses to San Cristobal until later that afternoon, had a quick chat with the ticket lady and worked out a cheaper way round involving four shorter trips, the first of which I could still catch if I ran. Happy with this budgetary maneuver, I paid and dashed out the doors to catch my just-leaving bus.

So three bus-changes and many pee-breaks later, I step off my last bus around 4 in the afternoon, in beautiful San Cristobal. The bus station is lively, and the streets are full of people. I have no idea how the city is organized, but this is nothing new, and I head down toward the center of town.

Happily there are plenty of hotels and guesthouses varying from the luxurious to the lousy, and I pop my head into a few as I walk along to ask about prices and what not. I resolve to find a nice cozy cheap place and settle in for a few days of conservative living - no big sights, no big excursions, just mountain life in Mexico. Before long I find just the place - La Posada De Zapata - a neat little guesthouse named in honor of the famed revolutionary and decorated throughout with his image. It's set back from the road a bit with relatively cheap dormitory rates and a quaint public kitchen space.

A little tired from the day's travel, I head off to the grocery store and stock up for the coming days. It's nice to be buying groceries instead of always dining out, and I am excited to cook myself a decent supper. I return home, stow my food in the kitchen, and head to my room to settle a bit. The dormitory room is pleasant; modestly decorated, and large enough to accomodate the three single beds, each with a sturdy wooden chest at its foot which is to serve as a kind of locker.

I have purchased a lock, and have used it at times, but resent it a little - I dislike the feeling of locking up my goods in front of the people I am staying with. I understand due caution, of course, but this idea of thinking that I could be among theives, of maintaining even slight suspicion of those around me is not a mental posture I enjoy or want to cultivate.

At any rate, I have been told that there is one other fellow staying in this room, buy I have yet to meet him, so having stowed my few valuables, I listen to reason, lock them, and head out for a walk to catch the remainder of the day and look around a little. It is pleasant outside. Lovely old buildings, music, and plenty of people out and about in the square. Soon enough, however, I begin to get hungry, and return home to make supper.

I struggle with the little gas range for a while, and eventually realize that there must be no gas. I confirm this with the staff who promise to have it all set for the morning. Looks like I won't be eating pasta tonight - I decide instead to make up some avocado and cheese tortillas, and munch on a few potato chips. Some guests from down the hall - a group of young people in from nearby Tuxtla for the weekend - notice my cold supper, and offer me a can of the tuna they've been reduced to, and a glass of soda. We laugh a bit together about the lack of gas, and chat over our modest supper. They are partying however, so I retire to my room to read some.

My roommate is back. He is a Mexican man of maybe thirty years, clean-looking and polite. He has good English, so we chat a little about where I'm from, and my various travels. He makes me a peanut-butter sandwich, and pours me a glass of juice - his version of a stove-less supper - which I happily accept. I ask him where he's from, and what he knows about the area, and he offers a little information, as well as some ideas about things to see and do up in the Yucatan region. We talk a bit about the price of travel, but how this place is nice enough, considering, and I tell him about Couchsurfing. He has never heard of this, but finds it an interesting idea. He cracks a few jokes, and we laugh a little together. Nice fellow, I think to myself.

Eventually, I return to my reading, and he excuses himself to go to sleep. After reading for a time, I decide to do the same. I take off my clothes, pile them at the foot of the bed, shut the light, and crawl under the covers. Our young neighbors are still up and talking - they haven't even gone out yet - but eventually I manage to pass out.

Sometime in the middle of the night, I am woken up by the sound of them coming home after what must have been a good night out, but eventually this too dies down and I manage to fall asleep again.

I wake slowly in the morning to the sun through white curtains. My roommate is up and stirring quietly in his bed. I think for a moment about getting up, but then recall that I have absolutely nothing to do today, and can sleep in as long as I please. I hear my roommate quietly leave the room, and settle back to sleep.

Some time later I do decide to get up, and head out to grab a coffee from a shop around the corner, and an avocado for lunch. I return to my room, grab my book, and head to one of the few chairs outside to read in the morning sun. No sign of my roommate. Must have gone out for breakfast, I think to myself.

There's still no gas in the kitchen, but I'm assured by the staff that it's coming, and so decide to go for a little walk to kill some time before brunch. The city is bustling in the morning light, and I snap a few photos of historic buildings like a good little tourist before growing weary and deciding to sit for a cappucino. Delicious. When it comes time to pay, however, I realize that I haven't enough change - spent it on my avocado - and so have to dig for a bill. I pull out my wallet, and reaching in notice that about 3500 pesos or so are missing.

I am a bit confused. Now, I just went to the ATM the other day in Tehuantepec, and as I mentioned earlier, have been pinching pennies pretty hard lately, so I know this is not a mistake on my part. There are a few hundred pesos still in there, but all of the larger bills are gone. Nothing else is moved or tampered with. Suddenly, a kind of cold rage sweeps over me such as I have not felt in a long while. I don't like it one bit, and it's all I can do to calm down and think for a minute.

What this must mean, I tell myself, is that my friendly roommate must have waited until he was certain that I was asleep, and then in cover of night, rifled through my clothes (which I of course neglected to lock up), found my wallet in my pants pocket, removed nearly all of the money inside (what a prince), and then gone back to bed as if nothing had happened. Then in the morning, he rose slowly, and quietly left without making a fuss.

It was ballsy of him, to be sure - how did he know I wouldn't rise before him? Perhaps he waited for me to stir, and then slowly made his way out? At any rate, by the time I realized what had happened, many hours had passed, and I know that if it were me, I'd be miles away on the next bus out of town by now. 3500 pesos is not a whole lot of money - maybe 280USD - but down here that's more than enough to get on for a few weeks if you know how to spend it. I know that's how far I was hoping it would take me, anyway.

So, I do my best to swallow some of my anger, pay for my coffee with some of my remaining pesos, and make for the hostel to make some lunch, and try to chill out. I look a little harder at the room, and notice that my roommate is most certainly gone, and not coming back if he knows what's good for him. My first instinct is to pack up and leave too, get away from this place, but I've bought my groceries, and I figure it's a pleasant enough place besides. No sense both of us leaving.

So here I am.

All this took place only this morning, and although I've since made some tasty lunch - the gas is on, thankfully - I was still a little tense as I ate. It's hard to describe. I have only been stolen from a few times in my life, but each time it makes me sick to my stomach for a little while. I suppose it's a mixture of emotions and impulses.

Part of me feels a little like how I imagine boxers must feel before the big match - all psyched-up and ready to hurt someone - like you can't sit down, should be running, chasing, searching, punishing. Another part of me is more sad, and wishes that so-and-so were still here, so I could talk to him like a little child, and try to teach him that he's made a mistake, that such behavior is not conducive to the building of a strong character, that he'll regret it later in life, etc. Then all of a sudden I just want to whack him again. Fucker.

Your one selfish action, roommate, has thrown me into that very state of wary suspiciousness that I so abhor. Anyone who has been stolen from will know what I mean. Suddenly, people all around - even strangers passed on the street - are transformed from shiny, happy, good-natured people, into shady, shifty-eyed characters, each one looking over their shoulder at their neighbour, hands gripping their belongings. Damn you, roommate, for bringing me down into this Hobbesian world!

Anyway. I'm nearly over it now. People are starting to look like good people again, and I am wanting to hit them less and less. Can't let one bad apple spoil the whole bunch as they say. Writing about it has helped a lot too, and I thank whomever made it all the way through the present entry despite the conspicuous lack of photos of things exploding. We'll see if I can't find something to blow up in the days to come.

In other news, I have begun working on the mailing address thing again - Buenos Aires is too far away afterall, I think. My recent hope is that I'll be able to have mail sent to some Canadian government office or something, or that I may be able to contact some post office down the line directly, and have things sent there. Anyway, it's in the works, and I'll let you know when the powers that be get back to me.

Otherwise, things are moving along well. I am healthy and happy, reading lots, and looking forward to a few more days here before moving along deeper into Chiapas, and eventually up Yucatan way.

I hope everyone is well and in good spirits - talk to you soon!