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How to Recover Stolen Goods..

© Suzanne Wade

You would think the act of riding in the police car (in Ensenada, Mexico) to recover our van would provide the most excitement to this adventure, but what happened during the next few hours turned out to be a story in itself.

We were dismayed to see that the culprits actually smashed the passenger side fly window to gain entrance into the van. It would be very hard to continue our trip with this easy access panel, so we asked the nice policemen if they knew of anyone who could help us on such short notice. By this time we had become rather chummy with the Ray-Ban wearing law enforcement. He said that his bother-in-law worked on cars and could probably help us. He gave us directions to a wrecking yard where his brother Juan hung out and we went off in search of him.

The yard was less than ½ mile from the impound yard. A decrepit wooden fence surrounded it. Rather than leave the van alone in this neighborhood, fearing more would be stolen; I told Randy that I would go find the gentlemen. Looking back, I must have been out of my mind. I noticed a group of 10 men sitting around a table drinking beer and playing a card game. Did I think twice about walking up to them? No, I strolled up and asked for Juan. A thin man stood up and lucky for me he spoke English. I quickly told him who had referred me, and he laughed and told me he could help us out. We had to go to his home though.

We walked back to the van and were instructed to follow his rusted-out car of indistinguishable origin. As we drove through the neighborhoods, I asked Randy if he thought we were being set up. Who knew where this guy was taking us? And who knew where we were? We couldn't pay much attention when we were taken to the impound yard and I had no idea where we where, or where we were heading. I just hoped that we had received enough bad luck and wouldn't be sold as slaves or busted for drug running. Who knew what they might have planted into the van. I think that maybe I watch too many movies.

We finally arrive at his home, which was a graveyard for abandoned Volkswagens. Juan walks over to one of the better-looking ones and proceeds to remove the fly window. He informs us that a local doctor owns this van, but he wouldn't mind if we had the window. It took him less than 10 minutes to replace the window, and we tell him of our misfortune. He asks us what we lost and we tell him. He finished up and goes into the house for about 5 minutes. When Juan returns, he is with another fairly scary individual. I'm sure we are in trouble now! Fortunately, Juan just wants us to know that if we gave him a few hours, he could probably round up the stolen goods. He's pretty sure he knows who took them. How amazing that the brother-in-law for the police officer knew where our possessions were. He then tells us that the window is going to cost $10. What a relief! I am a little worried that he knows the folks who stole our stuff. We are anxious to leave this area and he tells us to stop by on our way back through Ensenada. Sounds like plan, but we realize as we are driving out of town, that we could never find his place again and chalk the whole ordeal up to experience.

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