I remain uncertain as to if I should've even posted this story or not, but maybe it can serve as a reminder to all those who probably don't need it; please be careful. I also find it a somewhat cathartic to write about a very real, though narrowly-averted danger that I faced.
I'm inclined to use the ATM at the Banco Popular branch across from Acropolis Mall in Evaristo Morales. I usually go when the bank is open, there are plenty of people around, and the security guard is present. However, one Saturday a few weeks back, the maid was getting off and needed to be paid. I agreed to drive her closer to where she takes the concho after stopping by the bank to get her money. On Saturday afternoon, the bank and office building are deserted, and the parking lot is closed. This requires parking on a side street and making a long trek across the lot to the vestibule where the ATM is located. I mean absolutely anyone and everyone can see someone doing this, as it's super conspicuous.
Once you're alone in the vestibule, you're completely isolated, and the nearest significant grouping of people would be across Churchill at the mall. To make a bad situation worse, my bank decided to block my card on this particular day, requiring me to receive and respond to a text message, which effectively extended the period of time that I was alone inside the bank.
Once I got the money, I started to separate what I owed the maid when I noticed a very thin, clean cut, Dominican man rapidly making his way across Churchill directly for the bank entrance. "Something" told me to just put the cash in my pocket and exit the bank before it was just him and me inside, I mean it was just a bad vibe. I exited the bank and started out towards my car before he entered. The man goes inside, then immediately popped back out and called to me, "Caballero!", as if to ask a question. I gave him a very hasty "lo siento, no hablo español", and kept it pushing towards my car. Could my terrible Spanish have saved my life?
When I got back in the car, the maid was freaking out about something, but again, my bad Spanish... However, what was abundantly clear is that she was trying to direct my attention to now a different man, sporting an "Afro Puff", sitting on a parked motorcycle 75' ahead of my car. Alas, I would have to wait for my girlfriend to talk to her on Monday to find out what it was all about.
As you more DR-Savvy readers have already figured out, on Monday, the maid reported that the two men rode up on the motorcycle together, Flaco then hops off, crosses Churchill, walks back down the block directly across from the bank entrance, then proceeds to cross back and enter the bank, just as your antisocial protagonist decides that he doesn't want any company and makes a beeline for his car. Interestingly enough, they originally parked right across from my car, but a security guard came out and instructed Afro Puff to keep it moving, making him relocate further down the block. People from this country, including the security guard and my maid, can immediately recognize someone who is up to no good. I mean they can spot the Tigres much quicker than even a quasi street smart gringo can, it's in their DNA.
So that's how I came to realize that my polite, clean cut, Dominican friend was trying to get me alone inside the bank so that he could rob me. Of course, there was always a slight (very) bit of doubt in my mind. Maybe he just needed help using the ATM machine? Fast forward to this week. On Monday, there was a robbery gone wrong in Evaristo Morales, which unfortunately resulted in a respected woman of the church getting killed while driving some kids to school, very sad. I still don't know the whole story, more than likely someone reading this does, but I believe two men on a motorcycle snatched a woman's purse and someone shot at them as they were trying to flee. The woman, an innocent bystander, was hit and killed instantly in the gunfire.
So the word went out on the "Dominican Wire" that two men on a motorcycle robbed, shot and killed a beloved church lady, narrowly missing the children she was driving. That's all it took to end this neighborhood crime spree. I have no idea how in a country of such disfunction, they are able to find people so fast when they are motivated to do so, but I would never want to be "wanted" in the DR. Not even 24 hours had past when videos of two badly beaten and bloodied hombres were being posted on Facebook. It appears as though the victimizers had become the victims, subjected to a powerful dose of Dominican street justice.
I usually avoid the videos of gore and carnage that people post on FB, but I wanted to see the men responsible for this terrible crime, so I clicked. And there they were, Flaco and Afro Puff, cuffed together, rolling around in their own blood, surrounded by the people tasked with instructing them in the ways of polite society. The skinny one wasn't too bad off, but his beautifully coiffured friend was clearly manipulating a broken leg around by hand. Again, I don't understand what they're saying, other than the cries for mama, but I would imagine that they are professing their innocence, pleading for mercy, or saying something in the hopes that it ease their fate, unlike that of the family of the woman who died.
For me, this is really a story about karma. I readily admit to exercising bad judgement by deciding to use a desolate, albeit familiar, ATM machine in DR, which I'll never do again. I know that familiarity can make you a victim, as a safe place on some days, doesn't make it a safe place on every day. I also know that the universe is cause and effect. I believe my desire to always "do unto others", and be good to my fellow human beings, protects me when I really need it. Even still, bad things can happen to me or anyone else, like the woman who was killed, and I'm never so foolish as to believe that they can't. As for these two thieves, their karma is evident too. I'm sure they didn't think that their petty crimes would land them in such hot water, making them the subjects of a such outrage, but you reap what you sow...
