Well, it was bound to happen

I became the victim of a pickpocket ring last night. Neither I nor my girlfriend were hurt--thanks be to God--but I did lose my digital camera, an important piece of my connection back home during this foreign assignment.

I had gone to SM Megamall--for those of my readers familiar with Manila landmarks--to look for a stand to elevate my laptop so as to correct the problems I have been having with posture and my arms hurting over the last few weeks. Refer to "My arm hurts" for more information. Anyhow, the malls in the Philippines are always very crowded, but the definition of "very crowded" takes on an entirely different level in the holiday season. I was already a bit cranky from having maneuvered my way around all eleven million citizens of Manila--or so it seemed to my hyperbole-prone imagination--when we got to the escalator.

Typically what happens with theft in Manila is that it will be a non-confrontational act with several people working in collusion. Once the mark is identified, a coordinated effort will ensue to direct him or her into a less-open space, at which time one or more members of the gang will create a distraction or an obstruction. When the mark is sufficiently hindered or distracted, one or more other members of the gang will hit the loot. In my case, I wear an over-the-shoulder-and-neck satchel (what some Americans derisively call a "man purse" or, shortened, a "murse") in which I carry my important things, precisely to combat the persistent threat of pickpockets. Generally the only thing I carry in my pockets is a handkerchief and, as far as I'm concerned, they can have a square foot of fabric saturated with my sweat. Maybe they can sell it on eBay when I become famous. Haha.

A few steps ahead of me on the escalator was a slightly obese Filipino wearing a pink polo shirt. He was carrying one of the ubiquitous cell phones and texting, which it seems that many Filipinos, like many Americans, have gotten very adept at doing. There had already been some jostling with some of the others on the escalator. When we got to the top, Pink Polo decided the metal landing was a perfect place to stop and concentrate on the message he was tapping out. This caused a tremendous crush of people as the escalator continued to deliver its charges. I believe that, in the few seconds it took to extricate ourselves from the sea of people--including my physically shoving Pink Polo and yelling at him briefly over my shoulder for causing the traffic jam--one of the other members of the gang, and probably the young girl with whom I had jostled as we boarded the escalator and who had given me a dirty look as we did so, quickly and quietly unzipped the top pocket of my murse, took the camera in its protective case, reclosed the bag, and departed. When I was demonstrating this possibility later--after I had discovered the theft--it was taking me five seconds or so to complete the entire motion. This was still ample time to have done so in the commotion on the escalator, but I am sure these professional thieves could do this in two or three seconds.

I was, and still am, heartsick, because this is, as I have said, the principal way for me to keep people back home informed of what I do and see. However, it was only a thing. We were not hurt, as was a colleague of mine who has been robbed and beaten twice--uncharacteristically for the Philippines, which is generally not a violent country. I have been told it is not a matter of "if" you will be robbed here, but "when." Well, my "when" was about 7:45 on Saturday, December 13, 2008. When was yours?