Over the last 20 years I have investigated hundreds of investigations in Mexico regarding kidnappings, murders, locates mostly for insurance companies
and attorneys. So many of these cases have been very interesting but there are always a few that I will never forget. This is one of those cases.
I was contacted by a law firm in the US that wanted me to locate and interview two people in San Felipe Guanajuato. Their names were Maria and Juan
Santiago. The only information I had was that they lived in San Felipe which is a small ranch community two hours north of the capitol city of
Guanajuato, Leon.
Juan and Maria's son, Raul, was killed when he was run over by a tractor on a farm where he worked in North Carolina. He was living and working in the
United States legally, was not married, and would send almost all of his earnings to Mexico to support his mother and father and his his ten siblings.
he was the oldest boy.
I thought I could go there and ask around where the Santiago's lived and complete this assignment in a few days.
I landed in Leon in the evening hours and hired a cab to take me to San Felipe. My drivers name was Jesus and off we went. I have always loved the
high desert but I have never seen it as beautiful as this area. The moon was full and Jesus could not stop asking me questions about the United
States. He told me when he and and cousin swam across the Rio Grand river into Texas and walked for 40 miles to a small town and then took a bus to
Chicago where he worked in a restaurant making three dollars an hour bussing tables. He loved Chicago and one day wanted to go back.
When I arrived in San Felipe Jesus drove to the center city where the "Jardin" was located. The town was deserted. It was about 10:30 p.m. and the
only person I saw was a cop in his car. I walked up to him and noticed he was sleeping. "Senor" I said softly. He didn't move. I raised my voice and
he then looked at me with blood shot eyes, sat up straight, and tried to act as though he was awake all along. I asked him where the best hotel in San
Felipe was located. He pointed to an old building and said that was probably the best hotel but there was another a block away that I should stay away
from. I thanked him, paid Jesus, grabbed my bag and reluctantly entered the front door to the "Best Hotel in San Felipe".
The building the hotel was in had to be at least 300 years old. Behind the hotel desk was an old man with his head on the desk sleeping like a baby,
snoring so loud I could feel the vibration through my body. "Senor", I said softly. Nothing. I then yelled "Senor" three more times increasing the
volume on each attempt to rouse him. He finally raised his head . The desk clerk, I'm sure, was as old as the hotel and the building itself. I signed
my name in the guest book, paid 50 pesos for the first night. The old man asked me to follow him down a long hallway to my accommodations. The room
was as small as my closet at home. There was a communal bathroom down the hall that I'm sure was enjoyed by all. I was so tired I changed for bed, and
when I pulled back the blankets there appeared to be sheets on the bed that I'm sure were used by General Santa Ana's men when they stopped there on
the way to the Alamo 150 years ago. I decided to sleep in my clothes that night. Hey, what do you want for 50 pesos?
The next morning I awoke early and found the nearest cafe, had some really strong coffee, and set out to find the Santiago family.
After making some inquires, I learned that they lived on a very small ranch about one hour by car from town.
I hired another taxi. The drives name was Moises. Batting two for two with drivers. First Jesus and then Moises. I can't do any wrong today. Off we
went.
The smell of the high desert in the morning is intoxicating. Words cannot describe how fresh and beautiful it was that day.
Moises cab need a lot of suspension work done on his car and I'm sure when we got back to to town he was going to have it worked on, or maybe next
year!
Everything here seemed to move in slow motion. No one was in any hurry, except me. I wanted to finish this job and get out of there before I had to
spend the night in "The best hotel in San Felipe."
After driving for about an hour on this dirt rutted road, and asking almost every person we saw where the Santiago's lived, we finally arrived.
The Santiago's home was a very small adobe with no electricity or running water. There was an outhouse. Their livestock consisted of one burro, two
horses and some chickens running around the yard. The nearest neighbor was about three miles away.
When Moises and I approached in the cab several children came running out to greet us. They were not wearing shoes and their clothes were dirty--but
they were smiling from ear to ear. I don't think they ever met a gringo before because they were a little apprehensive. A very old lady came out the
front door of the adobe home and just stood there. Her face was wrinkled and weathered. I asked her if she was the mother of Raul Santiago and she
nodded. I attempted to explain to her that a law firm in the United States wanted to represent her and her husband regarding her son's death. Her
puzzled look acknowledged that she didn't have a clue to what I was talking about.I tried to explain that because Raul was supporting their family,
and that he died while on the job, there could be some compensation coming to her and to the family. The confused look was still there. She didn't say
a word.
This was my first experience with "poor ranch" people in Mexico. I call them that for the lack of a better description. The Santiago's have lived in
this remote area all there lives as did there parents, grandparents and great grandparents. They did not have a television or a radio and could
probably care less if an atomic bomb hit Los Angeles and killed millions. They were not stupid, but uneducated. Never a day in school and their
children followed in their parents ways of trying the best they could do to, at the very least, put a meal on the dinner table.
I asked Mrs. Santiago where her husband Juan was. She told me that he went to town on their other burro about two days ago to barter some chickens for
some supplies they needed and had not returned. I thought maybe I could explain this matter to him and get their signatures on the document and get
back home.
Moises and I returned to San Felipe with six of the ten children, none older than 8, all piled in the back of the Moises cab. On the drive to San
Felipe, Sra. Santiago told me that her husband liked to drink and sometimes he would sleep it off before he returned home. We arrived back in town and
looked everywhere for him. After talking to many people that knew Juan they did not know where he was. We toured the small community looking for him.
After about an hour Sra. Santiago told Moises to stop. There, next to a cactus was the family burro and a person lying on the ground. One of the
Santiago children walked up and kicked this person in the rear end. There was no movement. After several more kicks to the backside Sr. Santiago
lifted his head, gave a long stretch, and finally stood up. From the way he was standing it was obvious he had not completely slept off the effects of
the liquor he drank the night before. He was very hung over and could not stand up straight. Juan was learning against his trusted burro as Sra.
Santiago talked to him for several minutes and I will never forget him looking at me sitting in the cab with that same puzzled look on his face that.
The same look that the misses gave me earlier. I knew then that this was going to be a very long day.
Two of the children helped their father get back on the burro. They slapped the burro's backside and the animal took off with Sr. Santiago holding on
for dear life. One of the kids said the burro knew the way home and all his father had to do was hold on.
We followed in the cab and saw Sr. Santiago wearing his large sombrero and his poncho attempting not to fall off. He would lean to one side and almost
fall over, then correct himself, then lean to the other side and just as soon as he started to fall in that direction he would straighten himself
again. This went on for several miles. It was late afternoon now and the sun was going down fast.
For the next three days I worked with the Santiago family, going to the notary office to get the documents executed properly. While in the city I
bought new tennis shoes for all the children. I have never seen kids more appreciative. They could not stop smiling and running around like crazy!
My work was finally done, I thought. I was contacted by the law firm to get some additional information needed from the family. I remained in San
Felipe for a total of ten days.
By the time I left I got to know a lot of the residents and was invited to their homes for dinners and social gatherings. I got to play soccer on the
town team twice, played on the Friday and Saturday night volleyball game, went with Moises and his wife to their cousin's wedding, and was also
invited to participate in a murder investigation by the local police. I really had a great time.
I returned to San Felipe three years later on another assignment and drove out to the Santiago ranch with Moises. Everything was the same, even though
they received about $500,000 from the law suit. No running water, no electricity, not even a new burro. The kids were very glad to see me and were not
wearing any shoes but their smiles were ever present.
I asked Sra, Santiago why they didn't make any improvements to their home or lifestyle with the half million dollars they received. She looked at me
with that puzzled look on her face once again and it wasn't until then that I really understood.
The Santiago's were happy the way they were and no amount of money could change that. She had her children close to her, the stars at night and plenty
of food on the table. She didn't need any more than that.
Sometimes we get caught up with chasing the dollar all of our life and never take a break. After being with the Santiago's and staying in San Feipe
during that trip, I really learned a lesson about life. It's not having the biggest house or the nicest car and a large bank account that is
important. It's about being happy and content with your life.
Why fix it if it's not broken?k-rico - 8-30-2009 at 11:34 AM
SiddharthaVon - 8-30-2009 at 11:44 AM
Awesome experience and story!Bajahowodd - 8-30-2009 at 11:49 AM
And how much was your employer's take out of this case? Just a little more contrast to the point of your very well told story.lizard lips - 8-30-2009 at 12:41 PM
Siddhartha-Absolutely correct. A life experience that changed my life and I wasn't expecting it.
Don't know what the attorney's "take" was but if it wasn't for them no one would have received anything. Good or bad? When I first accepted this
assignment I knew they were fishing but I figured if Raul was supporting his family with whatever he was able to send home then this would help his
family in his absence. I have many attorneys that I will never work for again because of their greed-plain and simple. I have also put a lot of people
away for submitting false life insurance claims. I guess it works both ways.rcbajito - 8-30-2009 at 12:46 PM
Una vez, un padre de una familia acaudalada que vivía en un muy confortable departamento de una gran ciudad, llevó a su hijo de viaje por el campo,
con el firme propósito de que viera cuán pobre y necesitada era la gente del campo, a fin de que comprendiera el valor de las cosas y lo afortunados
que eran ellos.
Así, estuvieron por espacio de un día y una noche completos en la granja de una familia campesina muy humilde.
Al concluir el viaje y de regreso a casa, el padre le pregunta a su hijo: ¿Qué te pareció el viaje?
¡ Muy lindo papá !
¿Viste que tan pobre y necesitada puede ser la gente?
¡ Si -
¿Y, qué aprendiste?
Vi que nosotros tenemos un perro en casa, ellos tienen cuatro.
Nosotros tenemos una piscina de 25 metros, ellos tienen un río que no tiene fin.
Nosotros tenemos lámparas importadas en el patio, pero ellos tienen las estrellas.
Nuestro patio llega hasta el barde de la casa, el de ellos tiene todo el horizonte.
Especialmente papá, vi que ellos tienen tiempo para conversar y convivir en familia.
Vos y mi mamá tienen que trabajar todo el tiempo y casi nunca los veo y rara es la que vez conversan conmigo, o conversamos los tres.
Al terminar el relato, el padre se quedó mudo... mientras su hijo agregaba:
¡¡ Gracias papá, por enseñarme lo rico que podríamos llegar a ser !!
Once, a father of a wealthy family who lived in a very comfortable apartment in a big city, took his son travel through the countryside, with the firm
intention to show him how poor and needy people in the country were in order he realized the value of things and how lucky they were.
So, they stayed about a day and a full night on the farm of a very humble peasant family.
At the conclusion of the trip and return home, the father asks his son: What do you think of the trip?
Very nice dad!
Did you see how poor and needy people can be?
Yes --
So, what did you learn?
I saw that we have a dog at home, they have four.
We have a pool of 25 meters, they have a river that has no end.
We have imported lamps in the yard, but they have the stars.
Our patio reaches the walls of the house, theirs is the whole horizon.
Especially Dad, I saw that they have time to talk and live as a family.
You and my mother have to work all the time and almost never see and seldom have the time for chatting with me or talk the three us.
At the end of the story, the father was speechless ... while his son added:
Thanks Dad, for teaching me how rich we could become!bajadock - 8-30-2009 at 01:56 PM
Glad to call Lizard Lips my friend. He has a most interesting profession and he gets to explore places I need to visit. Now, if i can get him to
give me 3 strokes a side...
Thanks, Dan.Kell-Baja - 8-30-2009 at 02:45 PM
What a GREAT story!!!! Thank you for sharing.bajalera - 8-30-2009 at 03:22 PM
Liz, have you ever given any thought to writing a book?Udo - 8-30-2009 at 03:28 PM
Quote:
Originally posted by bajalera
Liz, have you ever given any thought to writing a book?
desertcpl - 8-30-2009 at 06:20 PM
great story,, enjoyed it alot, gets you thinking, very well doneBajaNomad - 8-30-2009 at 08:35 PM
Love it. Thanks LL!
MarkR. - 8-30-2009 at 09:46 PM
Wonderful! Thank you.lizard lips - 8-31-2009 at 09:17 AM
Thanks for enjoying the story. After writing many reports in third person format, being able to include what really happened is what I have always
wanted to do and writing a book has always been on my mind. I have kept a journal of my interesting cases and i don't think it would take me long to
put it all together.
In the 1990's many of the cartels members in Colombia purchased life insurance policies from US carriers believe it or not. Of course they would not
list their occupation as a drug dealer as many had legit businesses. I went there to investigate at least 30 murders all over the country during that
time. On one occasion I called the beneficiary to let her know I needed to speak to her while I was there and she had her body guards pick me up at
the airport in Mediellin, in of course a black suv with the windows blacked out, and drove back to her home in Envigado, a small town south. The home
was a palace. After the interview she and her body guards took me to the cemetery where he was buried so I could photograph his headstone and when we
arrived there were three older women sitting on a bench in front of another burial site with body guards and they had weapons in their hands. The
beneficiary went up to one of the older women and gave her a kiss on the cheek and chatted for awhile. She then called me over and introduced me. She
was the mother of Pablo Escobar and was sitting in front of his grave site. The beneficiary's husband, the insured, was buried right next to Pablo. He
worked for Escobar's cartel in Miami and would purchase precious metals, gold etc. and send it back to Colombia. Escobar and the insured grew up
together as kids in Envigado. I had a bodyguard who took me everywhere I needed to go during that trip. Of course the beneficiary did not tell me that
her husband was part of the cartel. Lot more to the story.
Another trip about 100 miles out of Bogota in the mountains I was detained by masked gunmen and thought for sure I was going to be kidnapped. Thats
another story. I've got a lot of these but never wrote about them. I guess I should. Even if it doesn't make it as a book at least I have put it down
on paper.
All of the people that tried to fake their death in foreign countries and I was able to prove fraud are some great stories. Like the guy who said his
mother died as a result of the tsunami in Sri Lanka. I flew into Colombo, took a cab for 5 hours south where the tsunami hit and found out that the
doctor who signed the death certificate died of a heart attack 9 months before the insured died. He didn't do his homework and is now in jail in the
California prison system.
As I write these stories I will post them here first and let me know what you guys think. There are some great critics on this Nomad site!Osprey - 8-31-2009 at 09:28 AM
I don't know about critics but I know many of us Nomads love these kinds of real life remembrances. You have an easy, flowing style and we would like
to hear more about your adventures. A lot more interesting than most of my make believe stuff.Martyman - 8-31-2009 at 01:32 PM
Thanks for the entertaining true life stories.degoma - 9-6-2009 at 10:10 PM
Thank you for a wonderful story. It was written so well I felt like I was there.rogerj1 - 9-7-2009 at 11:23 PM
Where do I sign up for that kind of work? Being a desk jockey is getting old after 28 years.Cypress - 9-8-2009 at 06:01 AM
lizard lips, Thanks for sharing your stories.k-rico - 9-8-2009 at 07:00 AM
The moral of LL's story is, for me, the ultimate truth and I think is the reason why many Bajanomads are Bajanomads. It seems so obvious and yet so
hard to use as a guide, perhaps because it is at odds with a society based upon consumerism.David K - 9-8-2009 at 07:51 AM
Great stuff Dan, many thanks for taking the time to share it with us!captain4tuna - 9-8-2009 at 10:09 AM
Great stories. Would love to read some more.zforbes - 9-8-2009 at 07:05 PM
I add my words of encouragement to posting more about your life. No wasted words, good flow. Thanks.
The Story Man
oladulce - 9-9-2009 at 03:08 AM
On our first driving trip to Baja we met a Texas couple while camping at Brisa del Mar on the beach in San Jose del Cabo. He was 20 yrs our senior and
she, a couple yrs older than us. We all surfed, enjoyed nature, loved star-gazing, and they got us into bird watching of all things. I wouldn’t have
imagined they'd be people we'd hang around with but we became fast friends and enjoyed many adventures together over the years.
Jim was a natural story teller. He'd led an interesting life, was observant, had a vivid memory, and genuinely liked people and would engage them in
conversation at every opportunity. He'd strike up a conversation with an elderly man I hadn't even noticed and learn the most fascinating facts about
his life, for example. We learned to add a few hours of travel time when traveling with Jim because he stopped to talk to everyone along the way.
He grew up on the Tex/Mex border along the Rio Grande and had his abuelita was a Mexicana so he spoke Spanish on a daily basis. "What'd he say Jim?"
we'd sometimes get lazy and look to him for translations. "What do you think he said" he'd quiz- being the eternal teacher, he'd never let us
slack off.
Sandy was the love of his life and never let on that she’d heard some of the stories a hundred times. Jim had an idea to write a fictional tale
incorporating some of his real life adventures along with a love story of their life together.
When Sandy finally retired, they moved to Punta de Mita and enjoyed 2 wonderful years of surfing and relaxing they had always dreamed of.
Jim was diagnosed with prostate cancer and passed away a yr and a half ago. Sandy compiled the stories he'd written in to a manuscript and had it
bound in to a book that she gave to all of their friends after the funeral. It's entitled "Curly Sue and her Story Man".
I tried to read a few pages but I'm not ready yet. My husband BigWooo may never be able to open it- Jim was like his big brother. But we smile seeing
it on the shelf and think of Jim.
Sorry for the rambling.
Lizard Lips, your story reminded me of something our friend Jim might have shared. It's wonderful and I hope you'll post some more.Neal Johns - 9-9-2009 at 07:14 AM
lizard lips,
Thanks much for the great storytelling. Don't put off writing that book too long.
Neallizard lips - 9-11-2009 at 11:30 AM
A lot of really nice responses. I am going to write my book now. After submitting thousands of reports to customers which contains only limited
information that pertains to the investigation only, I can add everything else that happened.
