We almost got shot in Mexico
In 2010 I was given an incredible opportunity by my university. As students of International Relations, it was essentially an expected part of our curriculum to take a semester abroad, and I remember the list of places to go (mostly a lot of places in the States, Canada, United Kingdom; i.e. way too much English-speaking for my Spanish-studying self), but there was only one place on the list that mattered to me: Mexico.
I applied and the approval process was kicked off and in pretty short order I'm accepted for a semester at the Tec de Monterrey in Mexico City. Wow! I remember thinking it felt a bit too smooth, but I heartily accepted my good fortune. Even better was that my good fortune was set to continue.
Scholarships were on offer for us intrepid internationally-curious kids, with each destination offering a certain amount of students a cash injection to support their semester. In my case, Tec de Monterrey had two grants available, each worth something like $3,000 - $5,000 AUD (I can't quite remember). I of course applied for that and some days later got an email saying I'd "won"! Easiest lottery in the world. Here's a quote from the email I received when I'd found out I'd won: "This is a very special award, and one that not all students were fortunate to receive." Wow! My wallet was now fatter than ever and I was ready to start spending pesos writ large.
There was an information session at one of the lecture halls on campus about the exchange and the scholarships, so I strolled over from my room five minutes away and we split into groups of who was going where. Canada: 10+ people, the US: 20+ people, Europe: far too many people. Mexico: …two people. Just me and my new best friend Pradeep. Seems we "won" the grants by default, yet still, it was a "very special award" to both of us.
Thousands of dollars richer and ready to head off, we land in Mexico City on January 2nd, 2011. The first day at university, we link up with all the other exchange folk and start walking around the suburbs trying to find a place to live, after being advised by the local students that this was how to do it: walk around, find places with signs saying "student rentals" on the façade, knock on the door and ask if you can stay for a few months. We had no smart phones, shit Spanish, and we were a pack of like 20 white kids just knocking on doors, but somehow it worked! Me, Pradeep, Alexandra, and Alexia (our two new French friends) find a place and it's perfect.
Mexico was incredible. I've not been back since, but it was beautiful: the people, the food (if you don't over-indulge), the culture, the mood; it was all so welcoming and exciting. The local students immediately brought us in to their world and it was intoxicating being invited to so many events and parties, and everyone just sees the super white kid with the red hair and go "Ooohhhh, ¿de dónde eres?", "Australia!", "OOOOHHHHHEEEERRRR", and then you've made a new best friend. We were celebrities in our own minds (maybe even a bit in theirs).
But Mexico was, and still is, unbelievably dangerous if you don't respect it. We lived in a quiet suburb and after some months had grown complacent. Nothing will fuck you more than complacency, especially when it feels like the most mundane slip-up.
Pradeep and I got invited to a local friend's "wedding" (it was for a visa or something) that was being hosted at their place a few blocks over. Mexicans can P-A-R-T-Y and we were all for it, but being a "wedding", we needed to dress up at least a little bit. So we did: we both put on... a white button up shirt. That's it. Shitty jeans, broken Chuck Taylors, and a cheap-as white button up shirt.
We left our place after dark and headed to the OXXO (corner store) just around the corner from us. It was on corner of a very main street, Calz Acoxpa, and another smaller street. It was busy, there were people every on the main street, and we went inside and bought our beers. We left, plastic bag of beers in hand, and turned down the side road (still a big-ish road), to make our way to our destination. We get about 100 meters down the road and I distinctly remember that a larger truck was parked on the side of the street next to us, which led to us being in a kind of tunnel between the truck and buildings to our left, hiding us from wider view from anyone on the other side of the road.
I'm a step or two ahead of Pradeep and I hear this really quick pitter-patter of steps behind us. There's a noise and Pradeep let's out a yelp, or a "Marc, Marc, Marc", or something. I turn around and there's a man, a young man, with his arm around Pradeep's neck holding him down into a headlock, and a gun to his head. Between me and those two is another younger man shouting at me: "DAME TU CARTERA! DAME TU CARTERA!" (give me your wallet). This young man thankfully does not have a gun. But I do have a wallet and it takes me a second to digest what's being said, but we're calm, we're moving slow, and I let them know I'm going to get it out, just hang tight.
I take out my wallet and give it to the young man. My memory is a bit hazy here, but somehow Pradeep is released and is made to give over his phone to the same young man shouting at me. Prize in hand, the man with no gun runs. He just ditches his friend with the gun. Ok, what the fuck, not a very good friend I remember thinking. Pradeep is now standing next to me.
Man with gun realises his friend has just left him alone, but man with gun remembers he's a man with a gun and then looks at us, gun raised, and points it to both of us in turn. He is two metres away from us and I remember clearly thinking that, "wow, that is real", and, "wow, that looks so heavy", and, "wow, that's a 1911" (I was playing a lot of FPS games back then), and finally, "wow, this man is younger than us and is absolutely terrified".
He is shaking. He turns, he runs, back to the main street. "Holy fuck". That happened so fast. I turn to look at Pradeep, who maybe you surmised from the name, is of Indian heritage. He is whiter than me. I guess my fear is hidden by my lack of melanin. I remember feeling weirdly calm, but I guess it was the adrenaline. I realise that our beer is still neatly waiting for us on the floor. I must've slowly put it down when it was time to surrender my wallet. "At least they didn't take our beer", I say. Pradeep croaks out a guffaw. We're ok.
We agree to keep heading to the party, one more story in our back pocket to tell for years, right where my wallet would've been. The people at the party welcome us, and we tell them "we just got robbed outside." They are at first not believing us, but then they realise it's true, then they realise we need tequila. It was a fun evening.
By that point I've been travelling for years. They stole my almost empty wallet with the equivalent of six aussie dollars in it. Pradeep's phone was 20 bucks. All that for essentially nothing, yet somehow we ended the trade amicably and didn't pay a bigger price. If we did, it would've been a mistake, those were kids and they were scared and desperate, yet somehow they had a gun. It's Mexico, I think, but some days even now that makes me sick to think about. Far more than I did back then.
A few days later we're in a flea-market and I'm chatting to a fella about a cool NES he has and I notice he has some old wallets. I tell him my story and he tells me I can take whichever wallet I want, on the house. He's mortified by the actions of his fellow countrymen, but we both agree that people do all manner of things when they're scared. I thank him for my wallet, and weeks later before going back to Australia, I come collect my new (old) NES. Thanks, flea-market guy.
I often think about what happened to those two. Did they guy who ran away apologise to his mate for leaving him? Did they end up finding a better way to survive or did they go deeper and darker into their story? There's no way to know, but when I realised how much humanity one can absorb and understand in a brief moment, I can't help but feel awful for whatever happened in their lives to put them in that situation. They were so, so scared.
Thanks for not shooting us, you two, and I hope it's working out for the best.
Here's my wallet, still going strong to this day:
