When the bottom line is the bottom line we can’t really be surprised when corners are cut and people are screwing each other over. In fairness, I suppose that we’d all prefer it if you went about enhancing your bottom line in a mannerly way… but it’s clearly not mandatory. And since so many now have become convinced that collecting money is the point of our time on earth… well, I guess that we shouldn’t be too surprised that the bottom line has become the bottom line.
I got pulled over by a cop in downtown Puebla the other day. I’m not a big fan of visiting large cities in general. But whenever we get close to one we always feel like we should at least check it out and take the kids to a museum. It was typical city driving… we were left of where we wanted to be and no left turn signs decorated the intersections for miles. I was about to make three rights instead when I saw a sign that only disallowed U turns. There were no cars around us… the intersection was clear. From the right lane I made my left and we were back on track. Everything was good. And then some flashing red lights to our rear hinted that maybe it wasn’t.
We stopped. The cop walked up asked for my license and taking it with him bade us to follow. We did for about three or four city blocks and then he stopped. We both got out of our cars and met in the middle. He first smiled, shook my hand, and clapped me on the back. And then he looked at me very seriously. “You’ve made a very serious infraction my friend.” He was speaking in Spanish.
My strategy in these situations is to appear as stupid and confused as possible (Ok… so maybe it’s not really a strategy… I don’t have a choice). Although I understood everything he was saying I kept shrugging my shoulders and saying in English that I didn’t understand.
It turns out that the very serious infraction was my left turn, which he told me was performed illegally. I have seen such an amazing array of left hand turn techniques here… in full view of a local constable, that I seriously doubted that such a thing as an illegal left turn exists in Mexico… that is unless the witnessing officer is behind on his rent. He showed me the photo evidence of my transgression. I pointed to the sign in the picture that clearly only said no U turn. He pointed to the fact that I was in the right lane… as we watched a car on the street where we were talking replicate my act (turning left from the right lane is quite common and in some places mandatory). I pointed it out. He said he didn’t see it. I also pointed to the fact that the left lane in the picture said “Bus Only”. Then I changed tactics explaining that we were lost and uncertain and that the kids were hungry… hoping to expose his soft family underbelly. No dice. It went on like this for a few minutes. Then as if he’d suddenly arrived at a decision he abruptly stiffened his back, waved his hands to silence me and said that this great infraction would set me back $7500 pesos!
Silence. That’s a big number down here… it’s nearly $400 dollars. And right there… on the side of a busy street in Puebla, Mexico… trying to talk my way out of a ticket that I still doubt I earned… the complete and utter bullshit and inefficiency of the way we negotiate hit me. It’s little more than bluffing with numbers… and the person who has to start has to go big to get your attention. Four hundred bucks is a ton of money in Mexico… you can probably get a new leg attached for less than $250 here. But you see, his goal wasn’t to get $7,500 pesos from me. Well, that’s not exactly correct. He would love to get $7,500… but he knew dam well that he wasn’t going to. He’d be happy to take a couple hundred pesos. But… first he had to set the outer limit… shock me, get me to panic, so I could appreciate the magnitude of the favor that he was later to offer me. Much like when the hospital sends you a bill for twenty grand and then offers to settle for $2,500 when you tell them that you can’t pay. It’s pure theatre. And it really screws up the business climate.
Now… this may come as a bit of a shock… but I haven’t always been the calm, studious, teetotaling, early to bed father that you now see before you. I just might have had a low level skirmish… or two… ish with local law enforcement… and I just don’t find them too intimidating. I put my hands in my pockets and pulled them out turning them palm up in the process. The international I’m broke signal. An equally absurd position. Suddenly he knew quite a few more words of English. He told me that he wanted to help me get back on with my day with my family. That he was sorry for this financial burden that had been dropped in my life, but it was simply his job… and now that he’d called it in to dispatch it would have to be taken care of. And then… lowering his voice to the confidential setting, he told me not to worry. Luckily his uncle was a judge and he could get the fine reduced. AND he’d even take it in and pay it for me. All that just for us. Clearly this guy was a giver! Otherwise he said that we’d have to go “downtown” (yep – they use that phrase here too). Talk to his superior… which would take a long time, and he wasn’t a very understanding sort. AND if we couldn’t pay… they’d have to impound our vehicle until we could.
It’s officially known as “la mordida”… which means literally the bite and it’s probably the most common form of income supplementation in Mexico. Frustrating and illegal to be sure. But almost never dangerous or very expensive. Once he’d admitted what he really was after, all that remained was to agree on a price. And his admission gave me more leverage. After a short rally of numbers I offered him $500 pesos ($27 dollars) and with a stiff nod he quickly spun around so that his back was to me and looking forward as if he was surveying the scene for additional evil doers, extended his left hand, palm up, backwards towards me… wiggling his fingers to get my attention. I placed the money in between those wiggling digits and he turned back to face me. Looking down he confirmed the denomination of the bill. Slid it into his pocket as we shook hands. And then he stepped out into the street, stopping the traffic for us to pull away from the curb. And that as they say was that. Start to finish it was all conducted in a very mannerly way.
I could have gone to headquarters and quite likely paid less or gotten the infraction cancelled altogether. But that would have taken a lot more time. Thinking about it later I had to admit that even though it was bald faced corruption… a much different experience than the hidden corruption that we Americans are used to, I actually found it to be a superior experience to getting a ticket in the states. First off an illegal left turn will actually cost you $350 in the US. Then you have to wait for the ticket to arrive in the mail. Then you have to pay the bail. If you want to go to court you need to make a court date and prepare your case. Then there’s traffic school and insurance issues… and… Here we paid a few hundred pesos and won’t have to deal with the issue again.
Freed to continue our exploration of Puebla we wandered the back streets. Went to a couple of museums. Explored two of the hundreds of churches that the city is known for and stumbled across a political rally dedicated to the troubles in the states of Oaxaca and Chiapas. I don’t quite understand them myself so I can’t enlighten you much other that to say it has to do with teachers, their union, and corruption (go figure). All in all we found Puebla to be highly over rated. A feeling that was doubly underscored by a thoroughly mediocre dinner that put Carson and I on our backs for a solid six days of the runs.
If you visit Puebla in spite of our experiences I can recommend a nice place to camp called La Trinidad. it’s about forty-five minutes outside of Puebla near a very quaint little town called Santa Cruz. La Trinidad is an epic swim center with several outdoor pools and a truly enormous indoor pool. It costs about 75 pesos a head to camp there and the price includes full access to the pools.