Walletgate Continues Update #2: A police report

I am smiling as I type this, friends.

My sweet friend, D. is probably smiling, too.

So, let's first recall that my wallet was stolen on Saturday. (Post here.)

Then let's recall that it has been an organizational nightmare to handle all of this. It's annoying if it happens anywhere. It's perhaps slightly more annoying when you're living in another country.

On Monday I got to experience a THREE-HOUR meeting at the bank to petition them to give me back the money that was stolen from my peso debit card. (Post here.)

Then, during the day I was alerted that in order for our immigration guy to process my replacement working visa, they need a copy of a police report indicating that it was stolen. And, my banker also said that a police report would help my cause and perhaps help the reimbursement process.


Who wants to go to the Mexican police department? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller? Bueller?



So my amazing friend WILLINGLY offers to take me to the Ministerio Publico so that I can make a Theft Report with the police. Before we went, my assistant called the Ministerio Publico to make sure they were open. (This is Mexico) And he let me know that the hours are from 8 am - 3 pm, then again from 6 pm - 8 pm. (Because that makes sense.)

Viva Mexico.

And my assistant also told me that the office has now moved and is not in the same building that I got my Mexican driver's license in years ago.

SO, my amazing friend D. picks me up in her new car after work (which we have named Lucinda) and off we go to the Ministerio Publico. (At this point I am beyond thankful that I have a authentic spanish speaker going with me. Especially one who doesn't mess around. She's a strong, incredible amiga and I love her dearly.)

We're driving.

We get to the Ministerio Publico office #1 and it appears that my assistant was right; no dice. Wrong location. We have to go to the new office that's "down the road". No big deal.

We drive. And drive. No office. Nothing that even looks like an office.
And if there's one thing I've learned about Cabo, it's that nothing ever looks like I think it should look. Hospitals, schools -- you name it. They all look... different. I remember going to get Lila's first ever Mexican passport and the office was a concrete shell of a building with low ceilings, peeling paint and open light sockets. It wasn't even safe to lean against the walls.

Back to the Minsterio Publico: we can't find it.

We do, however, see this fella walking down the road.

We pass him while we're talking and D. says to me, "Did you see that guy?"

I respond with, "Yes. He was wearing bear slippers."

We both laugh hysterically.

Because of course he's wearing bear slippers at 6:30 pm at night on the highway.

Viva Mexico.

So, we call the Ministerio Public office (no GPS here, kids) and they tell us that the office is located "where the new jail was going to be."

Well, since neither D. or I know a lot about jails, we found it about 15 minutes later. As it turns out it was located within the cement walls of what appears to be an abandoned parcel of land where a jail was once going to be located.

We couldn't even find the entrance. ABSOLUTELY no signage, at ALL.

That's it. The blue building. Very official, no? IN THE MIDDLE OF NO-WHERE. Notice the walls surrounding the building.

SO random.

So Mexico.

This is what I see looking out of my side of the car. Notice the concrete WALLS surrounding this place.

We get out of the car and both immediately ask, "Um. Where's the door."

No seriously? Where's the door?

We enter to the left and walk through a courtyard littered with junk. An old "vintage motorcycle", as D. called it -- an old fridge and more. Piles and piles of crap. Like CRAP, you guys. Like, not good for kids to be around it. Like, "I need a tetanus shot just to walk here" type of situation.

We were told that we were in the wrong place and that we needed to enter through the glass doors.

Look at that picture above. Do you see any glass doors?

We had to WALK AROUND THE ENTIRE FACADE of the building to find the "entrance glass doors" that were facing the back of the property.

It was a building facing the wrong way.

Viva Mexico.

(We're laughing still at this poing.)

Only one door worked and there was a haphazard non-functioning metal detector sadly leaning to the left that we both looked at and then walked around.

We laugh more. This is authentic Cabo.

It was a ghost town inside. No receptionist. Just a wide-open space with two groups of people sitting on either side. On the right, a group of Americano or Canadian women who were frustrated and annoyed and visibly angry. On the left, two Mexican men waiting patiently. They know how this works. Slowly...

We finally walk into an office and a woman is standing there. We tell her we need to fill out a report of theft and she asks if I have any ID. I tell her, I do! My passport! And she looks annoyed that I have something she needs to see. Then she asks, like she's daring me, "But do you have a copy of your passport?"

Listen Lupe, I've got two. Shut it.

Further annoyance.

She then tries to get me to fill out a paper that declares that my items were lost and not stolen.

D. saves the day, "Um, she didn't lose her wallet. It.was.stolen."

So the lady promptly told us to go talk to someone else.

Lupe be in a bad mood.

Viva Mexico!

We looked around and saw no one. So we entered the office.

And it was an office like I have never quite seen before.

Please note the two cases of canned tuna underneath the box of liquor.

Gobs and gobs and rows and piles of MORE CRAP: a band saw, cases of canned tuna, liquor, an air conditioning unit, paintings, statues of Mary... it looked like a hot goods/stolen items purgatory.

Piles of crap.


Viva Mexico!

This is a place of business? Of security? These are the people who are protecting and serving the citizens of Baja California Sur?


(I'm still smiling as I type this.)

We end up talking to a nice enough fella, whose name escapes me (Ivan?)

Ivan's office. I'm confident that my file will be added to his already stellar and seemingly efficient filing system.

Ivan wants to help me, but unfortunately he needs more information for the police report. (Of course he does.) In order to make a complete report, I need to bring in the bank statements that show which charges occurred, etc.


Off we went.
And we shall return on Tuesday.

At least we know where we're going now!

According to Ivan, I'll be able to make out a complete report and maybe even get a COPY of it tomorrow.

Anyone in the betting mood? Will it happen? Won't it?

Viva Mexico!



  1. I'm laughing over here in Chicago. Wow. You are a trooper to maintain a positive attitude through that!! Good old Mexico!!!

    I really hope you get your report and your monies back. Gee whiz..

  2. I am frustrated just reading this. UGH! Stay positive :)

  3. UM GOOD LUCK. So glad you're able to laugh about it -- Viva Mexico!


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