Attacked by magical street people wanting my backpack

July 23, 2011: I heard over the years about this magical “disappearing backpack trick” being performed by street people, but never seen it in action. Though today, I was fortunate enough to have the opportunity to see this risky feat starring…me. I was even selected out of the crowd of others outside the main bus terminal in Buenos Aires, Argentina. In a way…I felt…special.

After a 4 hour bus ride from Rosario on chairs as large as my grandparents Lazy Boy’s, Cecile and I stepped off the yellow brick road as we walked from the main bus terminal to the subway. Three weeks ago we were informed that these 2 blocks were dangerous…and I thought…what can possibly happen in 2 blocks? I happened to discover…a lot.

It was 3pm and the daylight was working in our favor. The walkway littered with multitudes of street people selling anything and buying everything ranging from clothing, TV antennas, watches and anything you thought you would never need.

ACT 1: The sidewalk began to narrow, funneling us like cattle. I noticed that I somehow obtained a grayish thick substance on my hand. At first, I thought it was the excrement from an extremely large bird or flying hippopotamus. I then noticed the back of my pants and backpack were also hit quite badly, quickly thinking and quickly eliminating the thought that I sat in something. It all clicked…we were being attacked by the magical street people.

Highly alert, things became as clear as a professional fighter in the ring. My backpack morphed into a turtle shell attaching strongly to my body, making it difficult for anyone to remove it, while giving my rolling backpack a rock climbers grip.

In order for this magical trick to properly work, you need to stop and let a selected street person that is placed there to help you clean up the mess. This is when the involuntary transfer of your belongings takes place. It all happened just like clockwork. It was a classical textbook theft that was taking place and ACT 2 started right on Que.

ACT 2: A women motioned that I had stuff all over me. I thanked her as I continued to walk in the funnel knowing others were close by…waiting…waiting for me to make a mistake so that they can make a dash into the crowded masses and side streets with my most important material weight.

Making contact with Cecile, I informed her that we were being attacked. She has also heard about this trick since her friend was hit in Buenos Aires, unfortunately losing that battle.

There were so many people around us it was becoming difficult to digest what was going on. Cecile and I stuck together, not stopping. Arriving at the entrance of the subway station we took the battle underground. We made it to an open area where some small designated shops and restaurants were. Putting ourselves at a vantage point, we now had an unobstructed view, being able to see if the street people were going to come down after us…and this they did.

ACT 3: While Cecile opened my rolling backpack for some baby butt wipes, I scanned the area, watching her back as we communicated about what was taking place. Then there it was…a man comes up to me and asked if I wanted a tissue as he pulls a tissue out of his pocket, dangling it. At first, I said “no thank you” in Spanish as he continued to hold the tissue out, acting as if he was trying to help. This is where I was supposed to take off my turtle shell and begin the cleanup process – completing the magical trick of the disappearing backpack.

I didn’t move from against the wall, grabbed it and thanked him…wiping my already clean hands. This is when I think he knew, that he was compromised. Stepping back, the man stood there looking at me. There was no reason for him to have come from down the stairs. Placing a quick call, he walked back up the subways stairs he just came down…leaving another suspicious man leaning against a pole, pretending that he didn’t know the guy.
ACT 4: The street people seemed to be working in a 3 person team. Next up was with the women who originally informed me above the ground about the mess on my backpack. Her credit card would not work to get her into the area where the ATMs were – hinting if I would help swipe her in with my card. This is an act that I was not familiar with. I didn’t help her, but it did hurt my feelings that they insulted my intelligence.

Noticing a police officer who was not that far away, Cecile and I moved closer to him so that it would give us a better spot to evaluate how this situation was evolving.

Once making it on the subway, I could do nothing but laugh and feel as if I was just earned a bonus backpack - it should have been stolen. But, not this time…not this time. There will be a time that someone will get my turtle shell and take home the prize…I am sure of it. But to get it from me…they have to have a bigger head or simply be brutally forward.