My scariest travel story … | Debbie's Caribbean Resort Reviews Forums

One Sunday afternoon in Guatemala City, a friend & I were walking down a street close to the downtown area. It was one of those typical quiet Sunday afternoons at that time in Guatemala … typical in that nobody was out walking around because there was a civil war going on and people were inside their homes with their doors locked. But hey … what could possibly happen?A Guatemalan National Police jeep pulled alongside and two guys jumped out, screaming at us to show our passports. Of course we complied, but they were out for more than that. One of them held a machine gun to my head while the other one frisked my friend, and took all of his money. I was able to catch the eye of the guy with the machine gun to my head, and so help me, he didn’t look more than 15 and looked as terrified as I was. I started feeling weak-kneed, and was petrified that I was going to pass out … knowing full well that if I made a move – even to faint – that this kid would probably shoot me.After my friend’s pockets were cleaned out, the thug tied him to the jeep and started going through my pockets. He took all of the money that I had on me – not much, about $100. He was just about to reach into my bra when gunfire broke out less than a block away. They untied my friend and sped off.Had we had StashBelts, we might not have lost as much money as we did. Or, perhaps if we had StashBelts, we could have had our Trekkie “Beam-Me-Up Scottie” buttons attached to the belt and could have been outta that situation in the blink of an eye.Alas, StashBelts weren’t yet invented. I do not mean to take lightly the horrors that happened in Guatemala during that time period, which included the massacres of upwards of 200,000 people – among them Fr. Raoul Leger of Cocagne NB – the same community as Fr. Yvan Bastarache, the priest who served in Varadero for many years and was well-known for distributing donations from tourists to those in need.

Wow! Top that, anyone! I hope you had some clean underwear available. Can’t be many thing more scary than having a gun to your head.

And you still have a great outlook on life and a great scene of humour;
amazing story!

Edits/Corrections: Raoul Leger was not an ordained priest – he was a social worker and lay missionary with the Société des missions étrangers (Foreign Missions Society). Also, Fr. Bastarache’s first name was Yvon, not Yvan.

When I was reading your post I was thinking that he was a Social Worker, but then I thought that I had misremembered something again. Why is your excellent story not in the contest thread; there are also some other stories that are separate; hopefully they are also in the running. edit:   "But the rules say "start a new thread", "        As my wife says, I may not be fast, but I’m slow.