My Valentines Day was not a day of romance or one filled with love or passion - but was a day worthy of writing to you about because it was the day I had my wallet stolen and the day that started off my week of hell...
I thought that I had been here long enough and was a seasoned enough traveler to not fall for any stupid tricks but I guess I was wrong...
I was strolling along the main walking street in Windhoek, Namibia towards the rendez-vous point for a lunch date. I must clarify here that this 'date' was not the romantic type of meal that one would like to have on V-Day but rather just lunch with another intern, Pat McCurdy (no offense Pat but you understand...) As I was strolling along, with mycamera over my shoulder and my Bierkenstocks flip-flopping, I was a clear target for crime. It was like trying to spot Waldo in a 'Can you find Waldo' book when he is the only one on the page. Two guys came up to me, one on either side, and grabbed my arms and began to say incohierent things and wave roses in my face. As I didn't think Pat would mind if I didn't buy him a rose, I waved them off and continued on my way just thinking that those guys were really annoying. After lunch, when it came time to pay for the meal I reached into my pocket and found it empty! 'Those F$%#ing bastards!' In my wallet I had my bank card, credit card, equivalent to $40 CAN, drivers license and some other cards that would be a real pain to replace.
I returned to the scene of the crime and told some security guards there about what happened. After a brief discussion they decided to break-up and I was to go around with two of them and see if I could point out the guys. Just as we were breaking up into our separate parties one of the guards with me tapped another guard and was given a gun in return! So, we walked around for about 30 minutes all over town, me and two guards, packing heat, looking for these punks. As I couldn't really remember what the punks looked like and as the level of training of these gun wielding guards was questionable, I kept my mouth shut and thought it best just to go and report to the police and cancel all my cards and forget about revenge.
I went to the police station and reported the incident. The lady there opened
up a primary school exercise book and found a blank page and began writing the
story of the pick-pocket crime in her own words and listed the items stolen
and I signed the bottom. I hope my insurance company doesn't just laugh at me
when I produce this 'official' document. There is a happy ending to this story
- or fairly happy. I guess the punks threw what was useless to them into a post
office box. When it came time to empty the box the lady who opened it found
my stuff and by a strange twilight-zone coincidence, knew me as she stayed at
the same guest house that I did a month earlier! She made some inquires and
was able to contact me. The next day I retrieve most of my cards!On the Friday
I was ready to put the week behind me as we headed for Swakopmund on the coast.
About half way into the 3 hour drive I bit into some bill tong (local name for
beef-jerky) and realised that half of my
front left tooth broke off! For the rest of the weekend I saw the sights looking
like some half-bree farmer. The names I acquired included: Chip, Chippy, Jethro,
and Jed the Inbred. I also had someone tell me I looked like a cartoon character!
When we returned to Windhoek, with my pride destroyed I set myself to the task
of trying to find a dentist in town who would:
1) fix my tooth immediately, and
2) allow me to pay later as I had very little money on account of having my
wallet stolen the previous week.
After calling 4 places I finally found a dentist who would do the job right then! So, I now have a new tooth and dont' have to pay for it for a while AND it will only cost somewhere around 40-60 $CAN!