Guatemala – Thiefhunters in Paradise

Street crime in Guatemala City

Parque Central

Before I speak about the horrendous street crime in Guatemala City, I’d like to dwell on the pleasant aspects of the city. We spent Sunday afternoon in Parque Central. It was teeming with people and not a gringo in sight. Lots and lots of children, and women everywhere breastfeeding babies without prudish concerns.

If I felt like a giant among little people, how must Bob have felt, at six feet five? The Mayan women, all under five feet tall, looked so elegant with their long, glossy, black hair and colorful dresses.

I was entranced by the gorgeous woven cotton that all the Mayan women wear. Not dresses, they are sarongs fastened with a belt over tucked-in matching blouses. I wanted to buy a length of the fabric but was shocked that the opening price at each stall I visited was US$150. This was not a credit card type of market and, since our mission was thiefhunting, I had very little cash. It’s just as well—I would have had an impossible time selecting just one of the colorful patterns.

Surrounding the fabric stalls, everything else was for sale, too: bootleg DVDs, heaps of clothes piled on spread-out blankets, hair-do contraptions, inflatable Spidermen, jewelry, toys, underwear, earphones, puppies, remotes, and, thankfully, wallets. Our prop wallet was stolen for good—a rare occurrence, as we almost always manage to get it back after a theft.

And what’s a market without food? Boys at wooden carts worked with giant machetes preparing coconuts to drink. There were mountains of peanuts, trays of white, spiral-peeled oranges, flabby chicken sputtering on charcoal grills, and festive corn-on-the-cob-with-complicated-condiments. The tostadas looked mouth-wateringly good; the fly-specked strawberry cake did not.

A boy sat behind four bathroom scales lined up on a cloth that marked his territory. A few coins were arrayed on the cloth, too. Why four scales? Was the boy often busy with simultaneous customers? Does a customer flip a coin to select one of the scales? Or take an average weight of the four?

Other questions arise for the men whose birds will select your destiny. Are the tiny printed fortunes marked? If you pay more, can you be sure the bird is given only good futures to choose from? Are there any bad ones?

Street Crime in Guatemala City

Parque Central is a quaint and charming sliver of Guatemala City, but violence lurks in its very shadows. I’ve already written of our own experience with pickpockets there; no potential visitor should be unaware of the serious warnings about the country’s crime scene. On February 1, 2014, about the time we visited, Wikitravel’s Guatemala Travel Guide said (among many warnings):

Guatemala has one of the highest rates of violent crime in the world. Guatemala experiences much violence; its citizens live in a world of violence and tourists will be no different. Use extreme caution if traveling to Guatemala. … If you are mugged, carjacked, or approached by armed individuals, cooperate. Do not make any sudden movements, and give whatever belongings or money that are demanded. Citizens and tourists have been shot and killed for resisting muggers. … Do not use buses at night in Guatemala City, as buses are frequently robbed by gangs.

The very long U.S. Department of State’s Guatemala 2013 Crime and Safety Report is more specific, more frightening, and great reading:

Theft, armed robbery, and carjacking are the most common problems encountered by American citizens. No area is immune to daytime assaults, including the upscale shopping, tourist, and residential areas of zones 10, 14, 15, and 16 in Guatemala City. There have been numerous reported incidents of bank patrons being robbed outside banks after withdrawing large sums of money, suggesting possible complicity of bank personnel on the inside. A particularly troubling trend is the use of motorcycles for armed robbery. Typically, two men on a motorcycle accost the driver of a car and demand the driver’s cell phone. Armed robberies to steal a cell phone have turned violent. In May 2009, a new law mandated that only the operator is allowed on the motorcycle.

The report goes on to describe highway robberies perpetrated by uniformed police or pseudo cops; the rising threat of robberies from occupied vehicles, including those stopped at traffic lights; armed security guards who exist “for decoration only;” violent bus bandits; and carjacking, even on main roads in broad daylight. The report also warns arriving visitors:

Minimize time spent standing outside in the airport passenger pick-up area, and do not walk out of the airport with valuables in plain sight. Carry laptops inconspicuously.

I shudder to think of my mistakes, though they were unavoidable. Our scheduled driver did not show up at the airport. We waited 40 minutes in total “outside in the airport passenger pick-up area.” We were not allowed back inside the airport to look for assistance or official transportation options. Therefore, in full view of many gawkers, I had to take out my laptop “conspicuously”—a massive 17” MacBookPro—to find the phone number of our Guatemala City contact. I should have had it available on paper. Instead, I was forced to flaunt my valuables.

Persons carrying laptop computers and expensive cell phones are often targets for armed robberies. Visitors should avoid using a laptop in a public place, such as a cafe…

…or airport pick-up zone. Had I only read this before my arrival! No, we weren’t robbed, but that might only be due to our very early morning arrival. We got into a hotel shuttle which, according to reports, is just as prone to armed attacks as anything:

Private vehicles, taxis, and shuttle buses have all been targeted. Typically, assailants steal money, passports, and luggage, and in some cases, the vehicle as well.

We were safely dropped at our hotel where, after a nap, we began our research of street crime in Guatemala City. Of course it would have been wiser to read up beforehand, but our hectic travel schedule doesn’t always permit such luxuries (reading about every destination before arrival).

Visitors should avoid using a laptop in a public place, such as a cafe or in wireless zones. Areas that offer wi-fi computer services have been targeted. Several individuals have been killed and their laptops taken upon departure from these establishments after they were seen using their computers in public.

Had our hotel not had decent internet access, it’s very likely that we’d have taken our laptops out to find wifi elsewhere. I can just imagine reading the quote above (from the U.S. Department of State on Guatemala), not to mention the rest of the warnings, most of which I have not mentioned, while sitting in a Guatemala City cafe with wifi. I’d be petrified to leave!

One of the first (horrific) statistic-riddled reports I read, “Guatemala: Violence perpetrated by criminal gangs…” published by the Immigration and Refugee Board of Canada, focused on violence by criminal gangs. 183 bus drivers were assassinated in 2010 for refusing to pay gangsters’ “protection fees,” and these numbers have continued. Ninety-some percent of crime goes unpunished (depending on whose figures you read). There are said to be 14,000 gang members in the country and most communities are affected.

No wonder the police are ineffective. Many are not even high school graduates, their training may be as short as six months, and they get a salary of under $600/month. Bribes are a way of life. Drug cartels have pretty much taken over the country.

We met two 50ish British women in our hotel lobby. They’d come to Guatemala City to learn Spanish, unaware of the crime scene. They learned quickly though, and by following the rules had no incidents. They carried nothing at all of value. No purses or handbags or cameras. They stayed together. They didn’t go out at night. They avoided the known danger zones. They only used taxis from the hotel; they did not flag cabs in the street.

Our visit to Guatemala City reminded me of the importance of research before travel, even if you only read a little. Because don’t we all read up on the weather, the restaurants, nightlife and attractions? Let’s not forget to seek out crime and safety reports, too. The U.S. Department of State maintains excellent, current reports.

Hotel drink-drugging (Hotel oddity #41)

drink-drugging; devil's breath; scopolamine; burundanga

The Mysterious Case of the Uninvited Hotel Room Night Visitors

“UNBELIEVABLE!” our friend Donny said when we unexpectedly met in the morning. “Bizarre! I must have had ghosts in my hotel room last night!”

Though we hadn’t seen him in more than a year, nothing mattered but last night’s hotel experience. Donny was beside himself. It was twilight zone.

Two of my favorite things when traveling:
1. Being invited to dinner at someone’s home (rare).
2. The unplanned meeting of friends from elsewhere (more common).

Bob and I were staying at an exceptional hotel in Guatemala City, the near-perfect Westin Camino Real. Donny was staying elsewhere. His story tumbled out.

He’d checked into his hotel late the night before after a long flight. He went up to his room and, without much messing around, went soon to sleep.

In the morning, he found:
• A broken glass on the floor;
• One shard of glass in the trashcan;
• A small towel on the floor;
• Two empty soda cans moved from the desk to the bathroom;
• His Kindle still plugged into the extension outlet, but:
• The extension cord now unplugged and stretched across the floor in a perfectly straight line.

None of these things fit his behavior, he said. He’s a very light sleeper, and would certainly have heard a glass drop and shatter. He’s a neatnik, and would have cleaned up broken glass immediately. He wouldn’t move empty cans to the bathroom, he’d put them into a trash can. He did not use a towel the night before.

Uh, huh, I teased, it was the woman you brought up with you! Donny wasn’t in a humorous mood. He was truly mystified. Ghosts were the only explanation he could think of. He was spooked.

You drank too much, I tried. Did you drink on the plane?

“I had a drink in the lobby,” Donny recalled. A welcome drink. “But I’m a drinker,” he said, “a drink is nothing for me. That’s not it.”

Hmmm, a drink in the lobby. What kind of hotel was it?

“Small, local, like someone’s private mansion,” Donny said. “Friendly.” Maybe 15 rooms, total.

Drink-drugging

I’m going to say that Donny’s drink was drugged. Possibly with scopolamine, aka Devil’s Breath. It was an inside job. After Donny collapsed in bed (without washing up, I note), an employee with a key entered the room and searched for cash. The would-be robber knew how long the drug would take to knock Donny out and when he could safely enter the room.

Donny’s wallet was in his pants pocket, and the pants were on a chair. The wallet was searched and replaced—Donny had traveled without cash. No credit cards were taken. Nothing from his suitcases. His perp was looking for cash, and only cash. In Guatemala, the average monthly salary is less than $300. Had something obvious been taken, Donny’s Kindle, for example, there would have been accusations and immediate trouble. Cash… who’d notice?

Let’s say Donny’s drink was spiked. The thief had done this before and knew how soon he could enter. He rummaged through Donny’s wallet, then bumped into the desk, knocking over the two drink cans and the glass. He glances at Donny, who’s out cold. He picks up the two cans and a big shard of glass and takes them into the bathroom, where he grabs a face towel, intending to sweep up the glass and soda dribbles. But he hears something—Donny stirs, or maybe he hears a colleague in the hall. He freezes, then flees.

The only puzzle remaining is the electric cord. Donny had bent under the desk to plug his Kindle into the multi-outlet extension cord that was on the floor. He stood and placed his Kindle on the desk, and noticed that it wasn’t charging. He bent again and flipped a switch on the extension cord, confirmed that the Kindle was charging, and left it.

When he woke up, the Kindle was still plugged into the extension cord, but the extension cord had been unplugged from the wall. And its plug end was far from the wall socket now; it was under the foot of the bed. The cord was stretched perfectly straight from under the desk (opposite the foot of the bed) across the floor. Precisely—not haphazardly. That cord could not have been accidentally kicked, Donny said, as it had been well under the desk. This cord is what spooked Donny most. And I can’t think of an explanation.

Also, the Kindle had not charged more than 10% or so, meaning the plug had been pulled shortly after Donny fell asleep.

Donny did not wake up groggy or foggy-headed. He noticed the broken glass, missing soda cans, and towel right away. His thought process was as follows: Did I do that? No, I did not do that. Was someone in here? No, I would have woken up. WTF? A ghost?

Since nothing seemed to be missing and he had an early checkout, Donny did not mention the mystery to the hotel staff. Anyway, he’s not a confrontational type. Also, any hotel can find itself with a rogue employee.

My drink-drugging theory was novel to him, but a better hypothesis than ghosts, which had been all he’d come up with. Anyone else have a theory? Or some possible logic about that extension cord?

drink drug Guatemala hotel odd

Guatemala City Pickpockets

Almost gone for good, finally. Our lucky wallet, our favorite thief-bait, would have been stolen in Guatemala City by a stone-faced woman backed by two accomplices, had we not, at the last minute, swapped it for a “regular” prop wallet.

Our lucky red leather prop wallet has been stolen more than a hundred times—close to 150 times—and we’ve always gotten it back. Usually we confront the thief and he/she hands it over or drops it on the ground. Sometimes Bob Arno steals it back. The thief who emptied Bob’s pocket in Guatemala City held her ground. We didn’t get the wallet back.

Then again, it wasn’t our lucky wallet. Perhaps if she’d stolen that one, she would have given it back. We’ll never know.

As we were heading out on a thiefhunting expedition in new territory, we did a little research. Yikes! Guatemala City is dangerous! Crime rates are astronomical (99.5 murders per week! 143,000 cell phones stolen (with force) in 2012!). The Westin Camino Real Hotel staff told us that more than ten of their guests are mugged every month. Presumably, other hotels have similar rates.

So it was with extra caution and trepidation that we ventured out. And we left our lucky wallet in the hotel.

Guatemala City pickpockets

After meandering around Guatemala City’s photogenic Sunday market in Parque Central, we strayed a bit and found ourselves on Calle Real, a busy pedestrian shopping street. Several street performers had gathered huge crowds which filled the street, like the one pictured above. To pass, we had to slither slowly along the green fence, pushing against the spectators.

That’s a long bottleneck—a choke point—in other words, pickpocket paradise. Why? Your progress is slow, giving the pickpockets all the time they need to get into position, find your valuables, and extract them. You’re experiencing physical contact with strangers on all sides, so you don’t suspect the pickpocket’s touch. The crowd is so tight that no one can witness the thief’s dirty work. And when the steal is complete, the perps can meld invisibly into the crowd.

Bob and I dove into the bottleneck. We let the crowd move us along, bump us left and right, feel us up. Negotiating the long passageway was like burrowing through a two-way tunnel of human bumper-cars. We emerged intact.

As we reached the next block, we saw a similar crowd. It, too, filled the street right up to the buildings. As we approached, this boy (at right) in plaid came around from behind us.

The boy glanced at us, then at his partner, a woman who could be his mother, who came around from the other side of us. The two joined up as they continued slowly along the street.

Guatemala city pickpockets — The pickpocket’s two accomplices get into position.

They were suspects immediately. The boy wore a messenger bag—typical of many pickpockets, but of course not exclusive to them. The woman’s sweater was draped “toreador-style” over one shoulder, also a common pickpocket M.O. The woman also carried a large purse which gaped open in the back. Then there were their frequent furtive glances at us. We were sure they were part of a pickpocket team, but we didn’t know their roles. Either one could have been (and perhaps sometimes is) the “dip.”

The woman and boy arranged themselves in front of us as we neared the bottleneck. We paused to see what they’d do. They paused. Uh huh. They hung back against the wall, both taking quick glances to see if we were on our way—if their prey was on track.

Bob went forward and the two suspects placed themselves directly in front of him. They were performing as blockers. They would delay their mark—their target—slowing down our progress, allowing the pickpocket time to find and extract our wallet.

Pickpocket positions

Preparing for action, Ms. Accomplice removed her black sweater. I fell into place behind Bob, allowing a little distance between us. If there were a pickpocket in the vicinity, and we felt certain there was, Bob’s pocket would have to be accessible—not protected by me.

Bob paused in the middle of the narrow passage, forcing the accomplices also to stop and wait innocently. The boy pretended to watch the street performer. The woman fiddled with her glass case.

Two women squeezed past from the opposite direction. Surprise, they were also pickpockets! They didn’t recognize our team as thieves. You can see the first woman brush the hip pocket of our boy. The second woman bent her head low to look at his pocket as she passed.

Now our pickpocket took up her position behind Bob. I got behind her with my video camera running. She’s very short—her face not much higher than Bob’s waist. In the photo below, notice the parade of actors in this perfect choreography: the victim (Bob) is sandwiched between the pickpocket and accomplices, one of whom can “hold” (the stolen goods) and one or both can “block” (impede the victim’s progress, slow him down). Classic!

The pickpocket unfurled a wadded shirt she carried, which we consider a tool. The purpose of the shirt (striped) was to hide what her hands were doing. She worked very slowly on Bob’s wallet. While Bob walked and filmed, he concentrated his attention on the sensitive skin over his right gluteus maximus. The pickpocket gently rocked the wallet, zigzagging it up and out of Bob’s pocket.

As soon as she got the wallet, she scooted away from the scene of the crime and hurried to catch up with the female accomplice. Bob had to feel his pocket to be sure the wallet was really gone.

The pickpocket darted straight to her partner, again using the striped shirt as a cover to conceal Bob’s red wallet. She slipped the wallet into her partner’s shoulder bag, which gaped open, ready to accept the loot.

Wallet stolen and stowed, the two women rearranged their props. The pickpocket folded her spare shirt and wrapped it around the strap of her shoulder bag. The shoulder bag was replaced and adjusted. The accomplice re-covered her satchel with her big black sweater.

Bob stepped in with his usual courtesy, asking madame if he could please have his wallet back. The thief gave him a dumb stare. He tried a mixture of languages to no avail. He invoked “policia,” hoping that the accomplice would drop the wallet onto the ground. Nope.

Bob grabbed the pickpocket as she turned to go. Strangely, the accomplice, who stayed close, opened her big purse as if to produce the wallet, but didn’t remove anything. She did this over and over, sometimes alternating with glass case fiddling. Again: nerves, or signals? The boy accomplice disappeared. Perhaps to get assistance? We don’t think the female accomplice passed the wallet to the boy, but it’s remotely possible.

GoPro3+ — Bob blatantly films the pickpocket encounter.

Bob and I continued to film openly as our confrontation escalated. Bob’s tiny camera, the fabulous GoPro Hero3+ Black Edition, doesn’t really look like a camera. Its wide angle lens is fantastic up close, though of course there’s a bit of distortion. But even frame grabs are sharp—sharper than those from my Sony RX100. All these images are frame grabs from our videos.

We stood on the edge of the street entertainers’ crowd on the opposite side of the street, where there was another bottleneck passageway between audience and buildings. Quickly, a crowd gathered around our encounter. Our show was better than the street dancers’.

The crowd found something amusing. Was it that we made an issue of an everyday occurrence? Was it the futility of accusing the thief? Something someone said in Spanish? Or simply Bob’s height? Bob’s height was amusing—he was a giant in a land of short people.

The pickpocket finally had enough of our accusations and stormed off through the crowd. We followed her through the bottleneck and out the other side. Bob continued to demand his wallet back, trying to provoke a response. When she turned down a side street, Bob lingered a moment with a couple of police officers. I followed along beside the escaping thief, my camera still running. I’d been filming the entire time—which was actually only a few minutes.

Suddenly, the woman whacked my camera! It flew out of my hand but luckily, I had it on a tight strap around my wrist so it swung wildly but didn’t fall. I abandoned the chase to look at my camera. It was dead. Dark screen. I’d never stopped recording, so the footage was never saved to the chip. I turned it off, then on, and lo! It gave me an option to recover unsaved video! Yes!

It recovered about the first two-thirds of the shoot. Nothing after I turned the corner. Not the potentially great shot of the pickpocket attacking my camera and ending the scene with a dramatic blackout. But I got enough. Great camera, this Sony RX100.

Meanwhile, Bob had snagged two armed police officers who seemed excited to take up the chase. Together, we ran down the street. But the pickpocket had disappeared. She could have ducked into any of the little bars or bodegas lining the street. Chuckling silently about the thieves’ disappointment when they found our wallet totally empty, we gave up. We needed to return to the scene to shoot a little more video. We had only another half hour of daylight, and this was one city we knew not to linger in after dark.

An American soldier assigned to protect the U.S. Embassy in Guatemala City told us just how rough the city is. He said that no new embassy personnel are allowed to go out at all until they have been briefed. They’re told how to behave, how to dress, what not to carry: wear no jewelry, no branded hats or clothing, dress down. Flashing an iPhone or iPad definitely invites mugging. Some zones of the city can only be visited in groups of two or more persons. Other zones are not to be visited at all. Curfew is midnight.

Guatemala City is a place where security must be taken seriously. Be certain your hotel is reputable. (We believe our friend was drugged at his hotel, and his room ransacked while he slept. Story coming soon.) Use taxis from your hotel, and arrange for the drivers to wait or return for you. Do not flag down a taxi in the street. If you go exploring, use all Thiefhunters’ advice in Pocketology 101 and Purseology 101.

filming thieves Guatemala pickpocket thieves

PICKPOCKETS, CON ARTISTS, GANGSTERS, THIEVES, AND TRAVEL