March 13, 2009, Readers’ Forum, By K. Jill Rigby, Letters

It was just another beautiful sunny Saturday afternoon in San Miguel. I bought some flowers in the market, took a taxi to a friend’s house in San Antonio and left her place, on foot, around 4:15pm. A few minutes later, my world changed forever when I was violently mugged on Calle Vergel near 28 de Abril.

This year, I chose to spend the entire winter in San Miguel rather than just a few weeks, as I have done in the past. I’ve been writing travel features for various publications for the past 25 years, a journalist for longer than that. My journeys have taken me around the globe several times and I always keep an eye honed for a spot where my husband and I might some day own a home. After 14 years of searching, we decided that place was San Miguel. We agreed that I would stay alone to work on my writing. My husband would commute, visiting monthly.

I have always felt safe here, but when I arrived in December, I sensed something had changed since my last visit a few years ago. At first, it was difficult to pinpoint. When I was mugged, however, I discovered the answer: This quaint postcard-pretty town had developed a dark underbelly and it was no longer possible for a world-wise female to assume that walking the streets in broad daylight was risk free.

One of my assailants brazenly strolled a few feet away from me on a narrow street for more than four blocks. After an accomplice joined him, concealed by a white-hooded sweatshirt, the pair threw me against a car and I crashed onto the cobbled street, badly injuring my knee and ankle. Screaming at the top of my lungs and unable to move, I was hit until I released my purse. For a split second, I had thought I was going to be killed.

Fortunately, a Mexican woman who had walked ahead of me for a few blocks holding hands with her daughter reappeared at my side. I asked if she had seen the faces of the assailants and she said yes, though not the actual mugging. At my insistence, police spoke with her to get additional details, but the woman soon left. I was shocked to learn that the police did not record her name or address. This woman has since been found through a labyrinthine maze of my contacts, but is now too terrified to come forward. I am praying that her moral compass will lead her to reconsider and that the police will ensure her anonymity.

This experience has left me with more than a leg brace and a pair of crutches on which I am currently hobbling. I decided a few minutes after being attacked that street thugs should not win. To this end, during the ensuing six days, I called every higher up I could find in the police department and spent an accumulated 16 hours there. Why? Because even a mugging victim like me can see gaping holes in the system.

On the day after my attack, I headed to the Civil List, a local online forum. As I pored through the postings, I read many accounts of the increase in violent crime in San Miguel. But it is not just from the Civil List and my personal experience that I have gleaned this town is altering immeasurably. It is also in conversations with my Mexican friends who tell me that they, too, are worried.

It appears that, in the few years since I was last here, the “Eden” that was San Miguel has problems like the rest of the world. That is not so unusual. The test before the town, though, is a little different than everywhere else. I have seen firsthand that the bureaucracy through which both a victim and the police must labor means it takes days before paperwork is perfect enough to actually go out and make arrests. I would hazard that the perpetrators know this and have evolved a sense of impunity.

Meanwhile, in my case, the leads are disappearing, witnesses are having second thoughts about coming forward and I fear that my attackers will never be apprehended. Most people who have not been victimized, and do not know anyone who has, seem to turn away at the hint of conversation about the endemic problems. My guess is that they hope all this will simply disappear, but without arrests, the criminals are merely emboldened to strike again, and believe me, they will.

Whether San Miguel can finally turn things around and collar the roaming thugs who terrorize its citizens remains to be seen. For the time being, I am trying to do my part to ensure that two cowards are brought to justice so that people might thus feel more at ease to stroll the streets, in the middle of a bright, warm, sunny day.

Letters

Editor,

Several weeks ago, my wife and I were to attend a performance at Salon Independencia, the site of the Iguana Theater Festival. After I dropped my wife off at the door, I drove to the open parking lot across the street. It was a few minutes before 8pm when I pulled up and parked near a bushy area.

As I was getting out of the car a tall, thin Mexican man pointed a gun at my head and in perfect English said “Get out, get out! Give me your keys, give me your keys!” Staring down the barrel of a gun focuses your attention and having been caught off guard I gave the assailant the car keys and watched him drive off.

It happened too quickly to be frightened or nervous. I was just angry, frustrated and aware of the inconvenience and cost that would ensue.

The police were called and appeared almost instantly and took a quick patrol of the area. Twenty minutes later a group of plainclothes police appeared, took statements and advised us to get our car papers and go to the Ministerio Publico to file a report. We live 10 miles outside of town and with the help of a friend we returned home, got our papers and went to the Ministerio. On the way back into town, we saw that roadblocks were already set up along the major intersections with armed policemen checking each car that passed. That was less than an hour after the robbery occurred.

At the Ministerio we spent three hours filing police reports with Jacobo Vargas, a very courteous and patient young man. The bureaucracy is tedious, but the people are thorough and polite. Arturo Rocha then introduced himself as the investigating officer from the stolen car recovery department. He promised us that he was not going home until he solved the case. Exhausted and depressed, we got home about 2am, doubting that we would ever see our car again.

At nine the next morning, Officer Rocha called to tell us that they had caught the culprit with the car at 3am. He told us that he was in jail and would be for a long time. The penalty for committing any crime with a gun is severe in Mexico. The car’s suspension was damaged and the repairs costs high, but we had the car back.

I have to commend the work of the local police, especially Officer Rocha, but also everyone whom we encountered that night in a professional capacity. They were courteous, professional, alert and eager to assist us. I have nothing but admiration for all of them.

Thank you, San Miguel police. I will not abide any adverse remarks about our hard-working force.

James Newell

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