What Happened Next . . .
3-'06

We'd been on camp alert for more than a week since Chayo's visit with late papers. My plan, as was Chayo's, was to play this legal-service game out just as long as we could. I definitely wanted to test the level of determination of the local authorities. All governmental agencies here are running on trimmed-back budgets. My thinking was that the Ministeria Publico, too, was operating in this reduced capacity, that necessitated Robi's trip to get guy from Loreto and having to haul him back. Fuel, vehicles, and personnel problems most likely played a hand in this very slow response against me to begin with. Too, those who head that particular Loreto office may have had things way more important ta do than come way out here ta hassle this one old gringo.

OK! The dogs are definitively indicating an approaching vehicle, and its advancing without unmufferled noises. I holler to Marcia and grab my hat and as I'm just through the barbwire I hear her yelling to me that it's a small white pickup that looks official.

I'm in sandals with green shorts and different shade of green T-shirt and straw hat. Like I said, I'm swallowed by multi-colored surrounding growth almost as fast as I slide inta this. I don't have ta go far. In fact, I don't want to, 'cause I want ta hear the exchange at the gate, if that's possible.

"Marcia!" I hear shouted out, and immediately recognize the voice of a young and jolly guy who works at Immigrations. He shows Marcia a copy of citation that hadn't been served correctly and tells her that I have to respond. We'd already decided to do a town run to Loreto on Friday, two day hence. Marcia cheerfully gives me up for that date. Nine A.M., this gent says but she begs off till ten, her mentioning the distance and the tide. "Si!" no problama. They'd make it for ten. Both these guys are greatly relieved. The other ones a big, fat cop with a pistola on his hip; them stating that the trip was long and would I please show up 'cause they didn't want to have to make it again.

Why or how Immigrations had gotten involved, I still don't have an answer for. Maybe this was a joint venture, the two agency's splitting the tab. The kid from Immigrations, a really nice guy, knows exactly where we live, him having been here various times before. I really can't blame Marcia for coughin' me up so easily, but we could'a strung this out longer. Like I said, the Immigrations guy is a nice guy; and I can forgive her for not wanting to string him along. They left tellin' her to make sure Chayo showed up, too. And that I should have my documents with me.

Contact is made with Chayo, us meeting for breakfast at the Café Ole in Loreto. He's already made contact with Sr. Yee, our Loreto lawyer, who want's to talk with me for just a bit, at his office before we have to show at the Ministeria Publico. Just a quick huddle 'cause Chayo's filled him in that it's a case of defamation of character. He wants to know if I'd talked to this Robi character face to face, which hardly had I, even though I'd invited him to a set down talk numerous times. Did I write his name, Robert Ross Cota? No. I'd just used "those investors" in the story I knew we'd be touching on. He shrugs sort of a "so what" shrug, we head off to appointment. Ten a.m., we're standin' tall, but with no one to stand before, 'cause the delagado's out and won't be back till like 1: p.m.

We've all got lots of other things ta do. Stating to an underling that we'd be back, we split, agreeing ta reunite there at 1:00. And just about Mexican prompt, we are regrouped, us headed back inta do battle.

We walk through a three gent cluster who are sorta like just bull shittin' just out side the door, them settin' on edge of concrete planter and steps in building's thin shade. From Sr. Yee and one these fellas conversation insures: Sorta like, Hey! What's up? From the one we don't know, with Yee responding that he's there in regards to things concerning Chayo and me. This gentleman then gets up from concrete wall where he's restin', and quickly transforms into the delagado who holds sway within.

He's maybe 35, got some extra weight on his medium-height frame. He's got blond hair and white skin, automatically earning him the nickname as El Juaro. He very quickly takes on a rammy, authoritative pose, starting right in on us about not showing on the date of those not-correctly-served papers. Chayo, who'd already been to that office explaining away his lateness, and being told not to worry 'cause that Friday was fine, this by underling there, sets into explanation with Yee chiming in about the rules of proper service.

This guy, again comes back a bit rammy. This is serious shit that we're in, he makes that point. He goes and sets behind his desk, him taping large folder containing Robi's demanda, opens it with a flourish, and states that this looks somethin' like open and shut case, ta him.

He displays the four er five page demanda itself, then flips to three of my web page stories that are presented in English, and officially translated Spanish, all of this stamped stamped stamped and officially signed. Obviously someone had gone through a lot of time, effort and money ta put all this stuff so officially together.

Yee wasn't quite prepared for something as voluminous and obviously more complicated than he'd initially imagined. I, right away, ask for a copy of this whole ball of wax, which, the other side of the border we'd certainly be entitled to. But "No." That's strictly off limits here, Mexico operating under Napoleonic law. Yee could get the information but he'd essentially have to set there in that office and copy it, not on a copy machine but on a keyboard, a daunting and time consuming undertaking, I assure you.

Chayo and I have to give "say nothing" statements, name-rank-and-serial- number-sorta stuff, this all seriously recorded on computer by underling (this is a one woman, this underling and the delagado operation. She did secretary work and answered the phone). After each of our statements a printer started spittin' out the multiplicity of pages required, the gent who runs the computer taking this long string of pages, folding them into even stacks and then tearing off the detachable margins and discarding this waste along with multiple carbons.

Then each page must be signed along the margin by us, Chayo with his statement, me with mine, along with Sr. Yee's signatures.

Whew!

You talk about wasted time, material and effort.

Yee negotiates six working days till serious response time. This kicks this thing all the way forward to the 20th of March, a long ten days away. All done there Yee wants us to reconvene at his office. Strategizing, that's what this was all about. Once there he calmly tells me that he, knowing all the places where copies of Robi's complaint had to be, might have his hands on copies of everything by late that afternoon. On shell business I had to be passing back through Loreto the next Monday. We both thought that would do.

Well that next Monday comes and I show up as planned, ta find Yee just settin' down to examine this stuff, which he'd just scored about an hour before me getting' there.

"Did you say that narco money was being used in that marina project?" he questions right off: this is Robi's complaint #1.

"No." I laughingly tell him, it being obvious as hell to anyone who takes time to read "Marina San Cosme or Another Punta Banda," in either English er Spanish.

"Did you write that an investor showed up at Chayo's casa, accompanied by two guys dressed in black?"

"Yes. I did." And I went on to fill him in on the conversation I'd had by phone with Chayo, right after the incident, him obviously all shook up. And then he'd put Alejo on the phone, him being practically frantic about things Robi had said I'd written about him and his family. How Robi was threatening to send lawyers from LaPaz to fix them fer bad mouthin' him. And no matter how I tried to get across to Alejo that I'd done nothing of that sort, I had the feeling that my words hadn't succeeded.

The two other stories that Robi's complaining about, "Shoot the Messenger" (with the clowns in black) and "The Trapper" both sorta surprised me. "The Trapper, " Hell! It wasn't even about anything concerning Robi er his scams.

Yee falls inta tellin' me that just that a.m., Robi had shown at the Ministera Publico and amplified his initial demanda. Another round of my web stories had been posted and these too had greatly upset him. Gosh. Imagine that. And yes, it's already in the works - us getting' our hands on this new demanda stuff too.

Both Yee and I are suspicious of Robi's translations even though they're stamped as official. A word here, a word there, we agreed that one didn't need to change much to get a different, more negative reading. In English, I've got copies of all offending stories with me. I tell Yee that I'm gonna send at least the "Marina San Cosme" to one of my support people in the States, get it translated correctly before the 20th, so we can do some side by side comparing. Before I pull outta Loreto I've faxed this material off with a short note.

On the 20th, again Chayo and me are at Yee's office, us ready fer action. I've got a clip board securing three file folders with info pertinent to the case, stuff that I'm just dyin' ta get the chance ta lay on that blond headed delagado. One p.m. is our planned show up time.

Yee is all wrapped up with other business. In his inner office there's four senoras, all them seeming in some sort of disaccord, all talking at once and in excited tones. From two young guys outside on the street who are in some way attached to those ladies in heated discussion inside, we learn that this excited session has been going strong since 10 a.m., without a break.

Numerous times I find myself poking my mug in that inner mayhem, just ta sorta let Yee sense that we're waitin', ya know; this seeming without effect. I've got a book, with that I can more easily kill time. Chayo's got the two gents there in Yees' office's shade, them seemingly to know lots of others in common. Two o'clock passes...then three, and the non stop talking there inside is showing no sign of abating.

At quarter ta four there's the shuffling of chairs and a change in charged atmosphere as that foursome, finally, winds things down and then quickly departs from there - Yee is obviously worn down when we enter and seems somewhat confused as ta what we should do in regards to the appointment with the delagado. He decides to call over there ta see what's shakin' down, him findin' the delagado not in...so he makes an appointment for the next Thursday at 9 a.m.

Whew!

Another trip up the Agua Verde road and to town.

Boy, was I ever happy that that Bipo was still smoothin' the surface.

So here again we are, Yee, Chayo and me huddled in premeeting confab just outside the Ministero Publico. Yee has it on very good authority that either Robi or his lawyer is hittin' on just about any organ of the local government, him in his seemingly insatiable lust ta see me kicked outta Mexico. His complaint is that what I'm writing is driving off potential investors.

Hallelujah! I know for a fact, because of e-mail contacts, that that is without a doubt true. What Robi doesn't say, however, is that after reading my warnings about problems in the San Cosme, these potential investors had done some checking around on their own, them not liking what they'd found. We've got "thank-you" emails to prove it.

Knowing what Yee has just told us we're not at all surprised at the even rammier attitude that us three are greeted with. "Where were we on Monday?"

He'd not authorized this second extension. Monday had been our deadline to respond to Robi's first demands. Yeah. That day was good enough for us to make a statement about the amplified damanda, but the Monday one, he just didn't know what could be done about that. Yee and him went round and round about things, Chayo and I just standin' around killin' time. Again I'm there with this clip board just loaded with pertinent info and I can tell I'm not gonna get my chance ta unload on the ridiculousness of Robi's whole line of attack.

It appears that none of this is going to get resolved right there and then. Yee backs us off, outside a safe distance from the entryway. He's got a pretty good idea why were getting' such flack, especially with the ridiculousness of Robi's charges. His idea is to put together a defense team. He's got a lawyer friend in LaPaz, who's the best there in regards to way we need to attack this.

Look, I come back. Just get me an hour talk with this delagado. I think I can convince him that Robi is full of nothin' but hot air.

Well, he'll try fer that. But, meanwhile I should consider his recommendations. I've learned long ago to pay attention to my lawyer's advice. So I did consider this, and before we left town that afternoon, I told him to go ahead and call his friend, who Yee speculated could show there in Loreto the next Tuesday er Wednesday. He'd send him all the info we had by bus. He'd get it in plenty of time to review it, come up with a plan.

Somehow, me with my clip board piled high, which I laid on that delagados desk, I...I'd inadvertently picked up that delagado's complete folder on the whole event, thus far. I was horrified at my clumsiness, and as soon as I made several copies of it all, I scurried back to amend my error, me walking in and placing it on delagados empty desk. (Thanks for the translations, Robi.)

Email: david@dondavidonbaja.com