These days, there isn’t much news to tell. Life revolves around walking the dogs and teaching, cooking, eating and sleeping. Boring!

Yesterday, however, brought a little drama to our corner of the world.

Just another day in lockdown

Lyn was listening to his Spanish tapes when he noticed someone outside our house looking a little suspicious. He stood out as he was wearing a long-sleeve collared shirt under a bright red sweater. This may not seem so unusual, but it has been in the 90s here for the past several weeks. While people who work outside often wear long sleeves to protect their skin, this man was clearly not working. He seemed agitated and was pacing back and forth in front of the house opposite from ours.

The next thing Lyn noticed was this man opening the trunk of a car and removing the tire iron. Lyn actually thought he might have a flat and thought (briefly) about offering to help. It’s a good thing he didn’t!

A little while later, Lyn called me to the living room. There, talking to him through the window, were four state police officers. Across the street there were several more.

I assumed that Lyn called me to answer whatever questions they had as his Spanish is still developing. So I asked, “Como están?” They asked me about the car parked out front, if it was ours or if we knew whose it was. Right then, the owner of the car came out and the police moved back across the street.

My first thought was that the car was illegally parked, as it was blocking one of the garages. The man was carrying some baskets and placing them in the trunk, then taking them out again, all the while the police were looking on, and lots of energetic talking was taking place. From our vantage point, it was impossible to tell what was happening. The man with the baskets was quite a bit older (70s-80s). He didn’t seem troubled or alarmed, and the police just seemed to be asking him questions.

It became apparent what was going on when a police truck pulled up and stopped right in front of our house. In the bed of the truck was an officer and a man — the man in the red sweater — handcuffed to the truck.

Naturally, we were trying to watch all this unfolding while also being careful not to be seen. From the one window, you can see into our entire house, and Lyn really doesn’t want to attract attention, especially from would-be thieves or hooligans. As surprising as it may seem, our dogs didn’t take much interest in all the activity and stayed quiet.

By this time there were at least 8 police officers outside our window. There was a lot of talking, none of which we were able to hear. Ultimately, however, one of the officers picked up a large trash-type bag from the truck and pulled from it the tire iron.

The man in the red sweater just sat quietly in the truck bed, sweltering in the sun, handcuffed to the truck while all of this unfolded around him. I couldn’t tell if he was, perhaps, on drugs, or mentally ill. He was quite dirty, so likely homeless.

Once the tire iron was returned, the truck and most of the police left the scene. A few stayed behind, chatting. I asked if all was ok, to which they replied, “Sí,” so I retreated back to the sofa. I wish I had taken more photos, but Lyn thought it was a bad idea, so I only got the one.

The excitement’s over

Alas, now that it is over, we’re back to our routines — taking and giving classes, eating, drinking, sleeping, and walking the dogs. I wonder what they think of all this…

Published by donnageisler

Former marketing professional turned teacher of English as a Foreign Language. Living in Merida, Yucatan, Mexico. Lover of poodles, large and small.

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