” Give me my Ticket . . . Please ”

“Dame mi multa, por favor.“   (Please give me my ticket.)
In the world of occasionally Kafkaesque road-side Mexican police stops, these thoughts are offered as a reminders of what’s really important in life: remain calm, cool, & collected, and it will all work out.

“Dame mi multa, por favor.“**   is one of several dandy phrases to use when driving in México.    If you drive a rental vehicle  or  one with out-of-state plates   or  even worse:  a vehicle with US/Canadian plates,  you’ll eventually be pulled-over and scolded about some ethereal infraction.   After you and your officer exchange personal stories about what actually happened,   then comes   The Request,   followed by   a pregnant pause.  Duck and dive as much as you like,  experienced officers will stay their course  and  refuse to return your license,  leading to  The Standoff:  as he waits for you to surrender some dinero and  you  stubbornly maintain your Principals (Hier stehe ich, Ich kann nicht anders! …)

Depending on how you value effectivo and whether you pity the poor officer  (some really are incredibly poor),  you really may be left at a stalemate.   Whining,  crying,  & pleading  are mostly non-viable options at this point.  Getting out of the car gives the officer an option to arrest you (yet another tale about your Constitutional Right to hide in your house or car),   so,  how  does a  savvy traveler  negotiate their way out of such sticky situations – without either party losing face?  (Saving face can be a particularly huge thing in México – yet another article).

“Dame mi multa, por favor.“   (“Please give me my ticket.”)    can work wonders.   “Multa” is a marvelous word that literally means “fine”/penalty in formal Spanish,  but in México  politely requesting  mi multa means you want an official hard-copy of a ticket before you hand over a single centavo.   You could say “boleto”,  but that seems to show that you are a truly a “Green-go” potentially available for shearing.

Dame mi multa, por favor.“  instead,  is a gentle Shibboleth that shows you are neither challenging  nor threatening  the officer,  (like demanding his badge number),  and it still leaves you  two raises:  “I want to talk with your Captain/manager.” or “Please take me to the station.”    Gently raising the stakes like this lets the officer give you one last scolding  &  some warnings;   then walk away partly satisfied that he is still  in control ;  relieved that he didn’t have to be humiliated or knuckle under to some vituperative over-the-top rabid gringo.   And you can   leave the scene   knowing that sometimes  the little things  can be what’s most important in life.

Reason for this blog?:  Things can work well here,  but we have to take the sticks from our ears,  keep our eyes open,  and our mouths shut.    There is some validity to touristic impressions of highly-caricaturized images of sleepy sombrero-wearing peones with their favorite burro,   corrupt cops,   overbearing sacerdotesburritos,   the simple-but-ubiquitous  adoration  de Nuestra Señora (de Guadalupe),  mariachis, etc. ,  but if you take a chance,  learn some Maya language or Nahuatl,  and  scratch the surface,    you’ll find Mexico is an incredibly diverse, wildly varying melange of over 220 languages and 1,000′s of sub-cultures held together by some beautiful common values, with a great taste for food,  black or subtle humor, and slowly unraveling family values.

*This foto is actually about as far as one can get from our sometimes Kafkaesque road-side Mexican police stops and is offered as a reminder of what’s really important in life. The foto: My brother David Swallow is on the left, “officiating” Maria Alba’s and my wedding. It doesn’t get much more real than separate bride & groom purification lodges, followed by commitments made with a Canupa before family, friends, and the Kolas, ending with an excellent feast with friends’ home-cooking from around the globe – giving the reader a glimpse of whom we are.

**”Dame mi recibo, por favor.“  can work equally as well, but “multa” offers insider’s leverage.    And yes,  be prepared to require a receipt.  Yucatán and Mérida have been cracking-down on such practices by la Policia y Govt. officials,  (by firing them),   but we all have to leave YucaLandia at some point.
(Hint:  Q. Roo is notorious for shaking-down even their most experienced guests.)
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Disclaimer: This information is not meant as legal advice. It is for educational and informational purposes only. Government policies vary between States and offices, and Mexican Government officials have broad discretion in how they individually enforce policies, so, your personal experiences may vary. See a professional for advice on important issues.

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Feel free to copy while giving proper attribution: YucaLandia/Surviving Yucatan.
© Steven M. Fry

Read-on MacDuff . . .

4 Responses to ” Give me my Ticket . . . Please ”

  1. Pingback: Yucatán: Bombas, Beisbol, y Beauty | Surviving Yucatan

  2. Pingback: Capital Gains Taxes on Mexican Properties | Surviving Yucatan

  3. Pingback: ” Please Give me my Ticket “ | Surviving Yucatan

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