A Wilderness of Mirrors

Sometimes it just is not possible to see what's really going on. I believe that the disheveled figure in the background is Mike Sanchez (aka 'The Old Man'?). I ran into Mike on a Laz Paz street, he said hello in English with an American accent. We talked a little and he claimed to have been just let out of San Pedro, the local minimum security prison where he had served five years. Apparently he tried leaving the country with 2.5 kilos of cocaine in empty beer cans. For the most part, his story seemed legit, San Pedro is a pay your own way prison, if you have no money you will look something like Mike does here. An abundance of intelligence is also unlikely for a drug mule (especially one with a decoy sized load - was Mike unwitting the fall guy?) - Mike seemed to fit that requirement quite well too. Lending credence to Mike's story was his accent (flawless native speaker), reasonable sounding story (didn't seem to give me 150%).



Anyway, Mike apparently had no or very little money when we started chatting and was dying for milk shake from the Burger King across the street. So we talked over a shake - life in the jail, blah, blah, did missionaries every visit? Oh yes, but only Spanish speaking ones... Could I get him a bible? Turns out they are very hard to come by on late Saturday afternoon in La Paz. I had offered to catch up with him the following morning to give him a bible, I was a bit surprised when he showed - early too. So we talked and walked a little. I explained the difficulty in finding a bible, but would he like to join me at an expat church that I was going to visit? I was pretty sure we could scare up an English language bible there, would he like to join me? Mike said sure, but felt like he'd stick out. At that point he was barefoot, so we found a pair of shoes for about $9.50 (US), then he just had to pop in for a shave (they are pretty cheap here), followed by a desire for a coat. It was then time to go and somebody got cold feet. At the last second he hopped in the cab with me (shortened story here!). The service was nice, and interestingly, at the meet and greet time, the pastor stopped by, shook Mike's hand and clearly recognized him. Mike kept asking the time, about 20 minutes into church he bailed. Afterwards I inquired - when had the pastor last seen Mike? He was not sure, but it might have only been six months. Oh well, everyone is a fool; perhaps I was a fool for Jesus? Thankfully, Jesus is nobody's fool.


Update! I ran into a few other people who have also met 'Mike', from comparing experiences, it seems that Mike wanders La Paz trying his well oiled story on various travelers. I cannot really fathom why an American would want to go and live on the streets of one of the poorest countries in the world. But, as it was once observed, there is a limit to human intelligence, but there does not appear to be limit to stupidity.


Final Update! I ran into Mike again and directly asked him what was going on. I also had the advantage of having learned a different, and very plausible, story concerning Mike from someone who had lived in La Paz for a little while. The gist of it was that Mike came down to Bolivia some years ago for a short break. While here there was some dispute over a Bolivian girl. A drunk guy hit Mike and Mike hit the Bolivian guy back; apparently pretty hard too. It turns out the drunk was an off duty cop who had Mike jailed in San Pedro for eight years. During Mike's time in San Pedro he developed a drug habit. Upon his release (one year ago?) he has been begging off of tourists and other gullible souls. Upon seeing Mike again, he had already lost the shoes and coat that I had bought him. He asked for more food and a coffee...