That's My Story

A PESO A DAY – published Dec. 2005 – Western Outdoor News

If you happen to be cruising down the Baja during the holidays, you will probably encounter Baja’s version of the Salvation Army bellringer in one form or another. Instead of a uniformed person with the red pot standing in front of your favorite Wal-Mart, you’ll probably encounter a uniform of another type.

The first time it happened to me was a few years ago coming down from between Ensenada and Guerrero Negro. I don’t re-call the bustling little pueblo, but it was a dusty little place. There was the tire store and the dilapidated Pemex station and some plywood taco stands on wheels. The school had no grass and the Church had a busted window or two. Bony dogs skittered in and out of traffic with tails between their legs and one followed the guy peddling the ice cream tricycle with it’s dented tinkling bells. As I entered the town, there was a uniformed police officer standing on an island obviously soliciting donations of some type insofar as he was holding a covered coffee can with little slit cut out.

Now, having driven the Baja many times, I’ve always found that if I keep a big stash of cheap candy in a big sack next to me, it usually gets me through most places. It sure brings smiles to whomever is checking out my vehicle at a checkpoint and at least it seems like they don’t probe quite so hard. Well, this being the holidays, I had a whole bunch of candy canes on my dashboard and a big box of them on the seat next to me.

As I came up to the officer, he flagged me down and came up to my window.
“Buenos dias, Senor. We are asking for Christmas donations for the orphanage. Puedes ayuda nos?” (Can you help us?)

Well sure. I can. Orphanage? I got just the thing! I grabbed several boxes of candy canes and gave them to him. He looked a bit disappointed. Gave me a quick “gracias” and waved me through. I was a bit perplexed until I looked through my back window and saw him dump my candy canes into the bushes. Hmmmmm…That seemed a bit ungrateful.

Two blocks down same thing. Only this officer was soliciting for some kind of hospital. OK…Instead of candy canes, here’s two bucks. “Gracias, Senor” and he waved me happily through. As I left he gave me a blue strip of paper and told me it was my “receipt” for a donation. Alrighty then…off we go!

Three blocks down and I get hailed again by another officer! Hey wait a minute, I just gave some to your amigo up the street.
“Sorry, Senor. That was for the hospital. That is why you have the blue paper. This is for the Cruz Rojo (Red Cross). For your donation, you will get a red paper.” OK, here ya go. Here’s another buck. Sheesh.

It was like that all through the city, although all I had to do was wave either my red or my blue piece of paper to show I had already donated. In return, I got a wave and a smile. Have a nice day, amigo! Well, at the next sizeable pueblo, the same thing happened only the red and blue papers didn’t work in the new pueblo. “Senor, those are from the other pueblo. Can you help us out too?” (Eyes roll and I’m now scrounging in the ashtray for pesos).

I guess by the time the day was over, I’d popped about 8 bucks for various causes. I have no idea if they were legit or not, but real uniformed Mexican officers were doing the collecting. For all I know it could have been going to the Police Christmas fund. Consider it a “toll” of sorts as a visitor to the country. I just decided to have fun with it and made sure to have lots of loose change whenever I drive the Baja. You definitely don’t get a receipt for the donation, but for a few pesos you still get a broad smile that certainly seemed sincere and grateful in places where it didn’t look like they had much.

That’s my story…
Jonathan