The Church in Pitillal
So what does the church in Pitillal, an area on the north side of Puerto Vallarta, have to do with jail?
Yesterday, Mike, Sheri, Sharon, and I embarked on what should have been a quiet shopping trip to Pitillal. Here's my story:
Mike was driving and as we got in line to take a left turn off Highway 200, the only highway in Mexico, we were in the intersection as the light was flashing a green arrow. Now where we come from, that means continue through so as not to block traffic. Apparently in Mexico that means.....you're going to get a ticket. A rather ambitious female police officer riding a quad pulled us over and approached Mike. All four of us in the vehicle agreed that we had done nothing wrong but regardless she was bent on giving us a ticket. She wasn't even interested in getting a 200 peso gift.
I pulled out my notepad so as to record this frequent occurrence for foreign drivers and apparently that was NOT the correct action because our dear oficial de policia became more irritated.
Mike was asking for directions so we could take care of the ticket which by now he was holding.
She in turn had taken his US driver's license.
In poor English she stated that she would no longer give us directions, she was just doing her 'shob' and with an attitude returned to her four-wheeler. But the incident was far from over. As we got ready to leave, she pulled from behind us and stopped right in front of us and approached our vehicle, but this time she came to my side and was even more agitated. She asked to see my notepad and seemed quite concerned that I had written down her name. In a very stern voice she told me,
"Do you want to go to jail?"
Let's see, humm, a night or two in a Mexican jail, or keep extremely quiet. Yes, not a tough decision even for this gringo. I have never seen anybody so upset. My quiet demeanor kicked in and a look of apology spread over my face. (also know as fear, as she was armed)
Yikes.
In what seemed like minutes, she eventually returned to her quad, and we gently sped away.
We then discussed how we might find the municipal court so as to pay this unrighteous ticket.
We did some shopping at Costco and Wally World and headed to downtown Pitillal where I took a photo of the church, from which my friends would have gone to pray for me if I had gone to jail.
(at least I thought they might)
We found a nice little upstairs restaurant and had a few much needed cervezas as they don't serve these if you're incarcerated.
As we returned to our vehicle, another oficial de policia was waiting and informed Mike that he was parked on a yellow curb and that was illegal. Apparently all the other vehicles parked in the vicinity were ok to park on a yellow curb, but not us.
Oh, dear, here we go again. Of course the first item demanded was Mike's driver's license. Opps, that was taken earlier by Ms. Congeniality. And everyone knows that you need a license to drive in Mexico. It was at this time that I thought I should separate myself from the incident and walked across the street with my notepad secure in my front pocket with no intention of an exit.
This story is already long, so I will cut it shorter, Mike y Sharon were able to talk themselves out of the ticket. Whew!
The next hour or so was spent trying to find the 'court house'. Eventually we did but not before an extensive tour of beautiful Pitillal. (I don't even like the name of the town)
We did find the municipal court only to learn that we had to return the next day.
We swiftly left town in search of a cold cerveza.
How was your day?
