On a long dark stretch of narrow, rural Mexican highway my bus came to an abrupt stop. I knew why immediately.
Distances are long in Mexico, and rather than waste precious daylight hours on a bus many travelers take night buses. This night, I was enroute from Oaxaca to San Cristobal de la Casas, typically a 12-hour journey. About five hours south of Oaxaca, around 2:00 a.m., near the town of Juchitàn, my bus was robbed.
The driver slammed his brakes hard. As my fellow passengers still lay sleeping, I looked up and was able to see what was going on thanks to the headlights. A large tree limb lay across the road and there were three young men, maybe 20 or 22 years old, wearing masks, one hoisting a large shotgun. The purpose of carrying a shotgun is to prevent the bus from taking off. If it does, they shoot at the bus. The other two boys were brandishing knives about 12 inches long.
The robbers got on the bus and ordered the driver to turn off onto a dirt road. As we travelled down the bumpy path the men with knives walked up and down the aisle yelling "dinero, dinero!" By this time I had already stashed my wallet containing my passport between the seat and the wall, so pulled it out, removed my pesos, about $20 worth, left them on the seat beside me and restashed my wallet. After about 100 metres we came to a stop in the jungle. The boys with knives walked up and down the aisle and collected the cash. They were systematic I soon realized. Making more than one journey up and down the aisle, I thought that if they came to me again and I had no wallet, they would get suspicious and who knows what they would do. So I pulled my wallet from its hiding place, removed my passport and bankcard and stashed those back in the hiding place.
Everyone on the bus remained calm, there were five Mexicans, a group of five German tourists sitting at the front of the bus, a German couple behind me, and a Swedish woman, Anna, who lives near Oaxaca, and her companion, an indigenous Oaxacan woman. When one of the robbers put his knife to Anna's neck, my heart starting beating harder and for a moment I feared the worst. Here I was alone in the Mexican jungle, they could do anything. Anna handed over all her money, 4000 pesos cash (about $700 Cdn).
One of the robbers carrying someone's pair of running shoes, made his way back to me, and he ripped my watch and ring off my hand. Don't take my running shoes, I thought. My only other shoes had caused me disabling blisters. The things one thinks about in moments of crisis! The next time he passed me, he ordered me out of my seat and searched me briefly, where he found my wallet in my front pocket. Rather than taking it, he searched it and took only the six American dollars I was carrying. He left behind the $40 Canadian cash and my credit card. Then he directed me to the seat across from me so he could search my bag and any hiding places. He flipped through my books, inspected my sunglasses, looked in my coin purse, but found nothing he wanted. He then searched possible hiding places and found my passport in its hiding place, leafed through it, and left it behind. A selective robber I thought. How kind. He never did find my bankcard.
The Germans at the front of the bus were not so lucky. I had originally been sitting beside one of them but earlier in the night, when I saw empty seats further back, moved so I could stretch out in two seats. The robbers focused their search on them. They took two of their daypacks; I guess to hoist their loot. Two of the men had their passports taken, and the woman had 5000 pesos taken.
While all of the above was happening, the robber with the shotgun was searching, in the dark, the baggage compartment. For a reason, I only now understand, I had packed my camera inside my backpack, which was stowed away under the bus.
After about a half hour or 45 minutes, they left, running off into the jungle. All of us were very, very lucky. Other than Anna being threatened with the knife, we all got out of it unhurt and unscathed. You hear of stories much worse than this.
The bus then returned to Juchitàn, stopping at the police post on the side of the highway. The driver told the officer what had happened but the entire conversation lasted about 30 seconds. We are in Mexico I remind myself; the police here do not set up quadrants and search with dogs for robbery suspects.
Back in Juchitàn at the bus station, we checked the baggage compartment. Some of the backpacks had been rummaged through (mine was left untouched) but none were taken. I guess the robbers took only what they could carry on their backs, in the dark. They had knives and a shotgun, but they didn't have a flashlight.
So here we were, some of us our vacations ruined, but the Mexicans and myself suffered only minimal losses. I had only six pesos (about $1 Cdn.) in change left on me, (the robber didn't care for coins) my bankcards and traveller cheques. One of the Mexican men on the bus still had money and gave me the extra two pesos needed to buy myself a bottle of water. Again, I remind myself, this is Mexico, there are no victim services, no one to give you tea and cookies, even the bus driver would have to continue his journey. Their attitude was pretty blasé; you'd think we'd had our car broken into, not been robbed at knifepoint! But this is Mexico.
The Germans wanted to make individual reports as they would need it for insurance, but there was no point for me to stay. As an experienced traveller, and a victim of theft before, I now realized that I had taken necessary precautions. I never carry more cash than I can afford to lose, had separated my credit cards and traveller cheques, some in my wallet, the rest in my backpack, and had thought to pack my camera thinking it would less likely be stolen from the baggage compartment. If I'd been carrying it on the bus, it would be gone.
By now it was sunrise and here we were sitting curbside as mosquitoes bit our tasty ankles. I felt like a cigarette, but I don't smoke. Or a coffee, but there was no Starbucks, not here. The bus driver had to continue to San Cristobal, as he had to return to Oaxaca that night. You'd think the company would give him the night off. So the gringos stayed behind and I left with the Mexicans for San Cristobal. A Mexican woman (she had lost her beautiful gold neck chain) asked my why I didn't stay behind. I explained that I didn't have insurance and since my loss was minimal I wanted to continue my journey. "La Suerte", she said. Very lucky. Yes, I agreed.
I'd spent three days in the beautiful, opulent city of Oaxaca, but tonight had discovered a dark side to the state, one where the gap between rich and poor caused young men to take desperate measures.
Weeks later, I did get back on the night bus for a 13-hour journey from Puerto Escondido to Zihuatanejo. Yes, I was scared, but this time, I hid 100 pesos in my shoe (for myself), put 100 pesos in my wallet (for the robber), and my new silver ring, bought in San Cristobal, in my sock. As well, I continued to pack my camera in my backpack. As an extra precaution when the bus would make stops at busy terminals, I would get off the bus and keep my eye on my backpack, to make sure it wasn't taken.
I write this not with the intent to invoke fear or discourage anyone from taking night buses in Mexico. Anna's companion had taken this very bus more than 200 times prior and it was her first, and hopefully last, time to be robbed. The driver had never been robbed before. But be aware that yes, this does happen and it could happen, and if you choose to take the night bus, take precautions.
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