29/05/2024
MUGGED or MUG?
The Darian Gap on the border between Colombia and Panama is listed by the US State Department as being one of the most lawless and dangerous places on the planet.
Yes, of course as soon as I read that, I was drawn towards it like a moth to a flame!
I like to think that I am currently working on my training programme to become a serious writer. My first book "The Evil Aztec" ( https://www.amazon.com/Evil-Aztec-Dave-Stewart-ebook/dp/B09SMTYVNJ ) did fairly well and it’s thread of modern day slavery is something that has tweaked my interest ever since I wrote it.
I don’t want to be one of those people who writes about stuff having only done internet research, so I have been to quite a few places over the past 8 months that are not on the hotlist of most tourists.
It’s true that there is no recognised law up in the Darian Gap, but it is also a stunning place of wilderness as well as wildness. There is a natural pecking order up there and it is incredibly dangerous if you happen to be an illegal migrant trying to cross this inhospitable landscape that divides North America from South America.
For an aspiring writer, driving a s**tty 2-wheel drive Renault Logan, there were other hazards but I didn’t think I was likely to be machetee’d to death for the few dollars I had with me.
That was possibly only wishful thinking, but then again my natural optimism does usually enable me to talk/charm my way out of most tricky situations.
I am acutely aware that my optimism only really needs to turn out to be misplaced once for that to come to a very abrupt end....
Nevertheless, I always think that if I go around confidently, as though I belong there, I won’t suddenly become a victim. It’s a strategy that has always worked fairly well for me up to now, not only are all the constituent parts of my body all in the same geographical location, they all still work and I even still have most of my own teeth.
No roads traverse this supposedly impenetrable barrier, but there are forest tracks that are lined with bandits, muggers, murderers and slave traders who will commit any kind of crime you can think of (and a few that I’d bet you can’t even imagine) for profit.
Before going to the area I was warned about many things and the general advice was “Don’t go there you lunatic!” all of which I cheerfully ignored, as I’ve often been told horror stories about places that subsequently turned out to be fairly okay.
This was a little different.
On the road up to the region, I even saw bodies hanging in the trees and left to rot....... seriously!
I’m not going to write about it here, as I’m saving that stuff for another book I’m currently working on, but I simply share it as a bit of background as to how I found myself in an alley in a dirty little town in northern Colombia on the wrong end of an attempted mugging.
I was returning from my trip and heading back towards Medellin when I ran out of daylight. The roads up in the far north are just beaten earth or mud and it’s not advisable to drive in the dark unless there is no alternative.
I came across a sizable town that “Google Maps Girl” told me didn’t actually exist, but there it was right in my path, so I decided to see if I could find a bed for the night.
Now, if they ever need to give Colombia an e***a, I know exactly where they need to put the suppository!
Anyway, I found a place to stay and after dumping my bag in the “room” I went looking for something to eat. The guy running the place I was staying at couldn’t help me, so I said I was going to go out for a stroll to find something.
He looked at me as though I had just told him I was thinking of slamming the front door on my ge****ls and then using his home brew white rum to marinade the resultant mess prior to making it into a stir fry to satisfy my hunger!
“You can’t go out there at night!”
“Why not?”
“It’s not safe, especially for a Gr**go!”
We had a short discussion about it and he eventually conceded that it was just possible that I might not die if I stuck to the main streets. He even gave me his mobile number in case I got into difficulties, maybe he was on commission from the local undertakers.
Google Maps Girl had finally decided to acknowledge that this town did in fact exist, so I put in a search for a coffee shop and surprisingly got two hits. In Colombia being a vegetarian is a bit difficult away from the tourist areas, so I’d pretty much got used to surviving on avocado & omelette for breakfast and coffee & cheesecake at night.
Following the little breadcrumbs on my map towards my chosen coffee shop I came to an alley that looked as though it might cut a few minutes off my walk.
(Yes I know, but bad decisions make good stories!)
Anyhow, after walking down the murky alley for a few metres it became apparent that I wasn’t alone. A scruffy kid who could have been anywhere between 18 & 25 suddenly started walking next to me jabbering about something that was too fast for my Spanish to follow.
I just ignored him and figured that I’d chuck him a thousand pesos to get rid of him when I got to the other end of the alley.
I didn’t actually get that far, as after about 30 seconds I was pushed from behind and I collided with one wall of the alley. Somebody from behind me grabbed my phone, which I was still using to follow the map, and tried to prise it out of my grasp.
I didn’t really think about it, I just grabbed his wrist, gave it a twist to free my phone and pushed him onto his arse. Once I fully turned around, I realised that I was now standing against the wall in a dark alley with 3 young blokes surrounding me (albeit with one of them sitting on his backside).
I’m not sure why, but I put out my hand to help the kid up and hoisted him to his feet. I should probably have kicked him in the head to even up the odds a bit, but perhaps I wasn’t thinking clearly. Everything was very, very quiet for a few seconds and then I just started laughing.
They all looked at me like I was mentally ill or something and all I could do was show them my crappy Chinese phone.
“You really don’t want to fight me for this piece of s**t! And I’m not letting you have it anyway, even though it’s only worth $50.00 I need the map function on it.”
They looked a bit bemused, but after a bit of back and forth we all agreed that it wasn’t the latest i-phone they had been expecting a Gr**go to be carrying. To add to my lack of appeal as a mugging victim, I don’t wear any jewellery and watches just don’t work on me (ask Roger Ford or Rik Ballerini ) so I presented pretty poor pickings for any potential robber.
For those of you who don’t know me very well, just let it be said that I could be wearing the latest Pierre Cardin suit, Chanel silk shirt with Gucci loafers and I would still look like a vagrant. Fancy clothes simply can’t hide who I am and I really don’t care.
I look poor.
I moved to carry on up the alley and they all started telling me that I couldn’t walk down this particular alley. They asked where I was going and I showed them the map with the coffee shop on it and they carried on telling me that I couldn’t walk down this alley.
I just ignored them, thinking that they wanted to charge me some kind of fee for walking down their alley. Then I came around a little bend in the alley and discovered that I genuinely couldn’t walk down this alley because someone had built a little shelter/house right across the middle of it.
I was now down the dead end of a very dark alley in a town that wasn’t even on the map and nobody in the world knew where I was to within the nearest 200 miles!
My new mates beckoned me to follow them and we ended up going back to the main drag before turning down a different, even darker, alley. I know that I should have felt uncomfortable, but I really didn’t feel like that at all.
They walked all the way to the coffee shop with me and then gave me directions as to how to get back to the hostel on roads that had at least rudimentary lighting. As they walked away, the coffee shop owner took my order and told me to be wary of those kids because they were “dangerous”.
After my coffee and almond cake (no cheesecake in this town) I decided to walk back the way we had come. This was partly because I am obstinate and partly because I couldn’t remember the directions they had given me.
On emerging from the alley near my hostel I bumped into the same bunch of youngsters again, but now there were six or seven of them. Again I should have felt vulnerable, but I really didn’t and they just walked along with me chatting about London and what it was like.
Wherever you go you are inevitably curious about the people, but it’s easy to forget that they are also curious about you.
I had corrected them on their assumption that I was a Gr**go and told them about my roots of being a simple kid from the slums of South London.
(EXPLANATION:- Gr**gos are from North America, Germany and Scandanavia. Brits are not technically Gr**gos, because it’s not simply a term for being white. This is something I discovered in Peru and the old guy who told me said that even a lot of Latinos don’t understand the difference)
We walked back to where I’d parked my car as I needed to get a bottle of cherryade from it. My new gang suddenly got all panicky again and told me I couldn’t leave my car there. It would 100% get broken into or stolen they said.
I told them that I didn’t really care, as there was nothing in it and it was a hire car with fully comprehensive insurance anyway. I gave up trying to explain insurance to them after a couple of minutes and walked away. The biggest guy, who I took to be the leader of the gang, shouted after me that they would “look after” my car for me. That concept is completely normal all over South America and basically involves you giving a couple of coins to random blokes who say they’ve looked after your car – whether they have or not is irrelevant, you just pay and drive away.
The next morning I had my usual omelette for breakfast and told a truck driver at my table where I’d left my car. He asked me if I wanted a lift to Medellin for $25.00 US as my car definitely wouldn’t be where I’d left it.
Not only was my car there, but one of the kids from the previous night was asleep leaning up against the front wheel. I woke him up and he greeted me like an old friend.
I shook his hand, thanked him and gave him the first note I pulled out of my wallet, which happened to be 2,000 pesos which he was delighted with (you never keep your wallet out of your pocket any longer than you need to).
I said goodbye and drove away smiling to myself.
It was only a little later that I realised that 2,000 pesos was equivalent to just 50 cents!
When I told one of my friends about this whole story, he said “Only you could get mugged and end up with a new bunch of friends. How did that happen?”
I thought about it and realised that it’s all part of the “Tadpole Lottery!”
If I’d been born into that environment, any one of those kids could easily have been me.
Sure, sometimes giving someone a kick in the head can even up the odds, but giving someone who has just attacked you a hand to get up often produces a much better outcome.
As I get older and calmer, I’m actually starting to think that one day I might just turn out to be a nice bloke.
One day.
If you got to the end, “Thank You”
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