GUILTY UNTIL PROVEN INNOCENT

 

 VIGILANTE JUSTICE

Burning boy left arm and leg, trailing his body

                A couple of weeks ago we posted about going to the jungle to find members.  Last week two thieves were caught there, stealing. The locals, tired of the criminals being let go after being caught, went for some vigilante justice.  They burned the two alive.  We first saw this in a tabloid which had two graphic pictures of the boys running in flames, then their charred remains after.  These pictures have been cropped  but you can see his arm behind him and his leg  The authorities say they are going to find those who did this, but it has happened  before.



Charred remains of seventeen year old

Jacaranda tree in bloom

            It's turning spring, and the winters are here are dry.  We have had wildfires all week in the mountains above the temple. We drove up there the other night.

            Last Week, they finally started the remodel on the mission office so we packed up the office and put most everything in storage. 

 Cochabamba has restrictions for driving downtown based on the last number of your license plate. I was stopped for crossing a boundary line, which I was unaware of.  The police officer got in the car with us and we went to a police station.  Lorna was told to wait with the pickup while I went inside and waited for them to write me a ticket.  I was told to take the ticket about seven blocks to another building where I would pay a fine.  Upon arriving I was told to take a number and wait.  About an hour later I was on my way back to the first station to give them the receipt, from the second place.  Things are really efficient here.

Beijing Circle (notice, they have stop lights in the round about!)

  The next day we moved the financial secretary over to another church office building.  Late that afternoon we were heading out to our branch in Bella Vista to visit Jhoselin, the 13 year old girl we are taking to Santa Cruz next week for her operation.  It was about the busiest time of day.  We entered a roundabout when a small pickup to the side of me decided to turn left in front of me, I slammed on my brakes and barely missed him, however a Micro bus a regular bus that is short, ran into the back of me. He hit us hard.

  From my experience before (see Punata blog post) I knew I had to get to a safe place.  Because there is a cement barrier on the side of the highway, I had to go down about an 1/8 of a mile to turn on to an access road. When I turned, I noticed that the back of the pickup was scraping the rear tire. As we made our way back to the scene, a police officer was talking to the Micro who had gone down past the intersection and stopped.  Two police officers were talking with the Micro driver. They  started asking me why I had slammed on my brakes in the middle of the intersection and caused the Micro to hit me. I said there was a pickup in the left lane in front of me who at the last moment turned in front of me.  Why would I slam on my brakes for no reason?  By this time I could see the police were not making sense and something else was going on. The Cholitas were taken off the bus and proceeded to scream at me for not just waving them on.  They were put out that they would have to board another bus. I told Lorna to call Nacho, a good friend of ours who we work with purchasing things for the mission.  He told me if I ever had any run ins with the police to get a hold of him because he knew some people there.  They said we were going to the police station. I told them that I didn't think that I should drive my pickup since it would ruin the tire.  They put me in a police car with 3 other police officers who dress in military attire here and look like swat teams.  It was an SUV with jump seats, and they had me sitting on the jump seats.  Nacho and his son had arrived.  They wouldn't let Lorna ride with me. Nacho and I told them we didn't want to leave her there, but they didn't care. Lorna took a cab with Nacho's son and arrived  at the police station at about the same time.  We entered a building that was probably built in the 1930's and looked like Stalig 13 from  Hogan's Heroes. Lorna stated that the place was a dump,  I said,"It's better than the other two I was in this week!


 

      I was placed on a a bench with broken slats about 4 inches apart and drilled by 3 officers why I was speeding so fast and caused the accident.  I was not allowed to respond only told what I had done wrong.  They took me over to the other side of the room and told me I needed to pay to have my blood drawn.  Nacho paid, and I got jabbed several times, to have my blood drawn, no identification was put on the sample.  They did draw the Micro drivers blood afterward. Then they sat me down and told me again that I was in the wrong.  Anytime I tried to speak I was told to be quiet. We waited an hour or so for the captain to show up but he never did   Another officer with his green khakis tucked into his green socks took my drivers license and information, then I was told to come back in the morning. The next morning we arrived about 8:30 am   My arm was black and blue from the unsuccessful pokes. The Micro driver arrived with about 4 other people, we found out it was the Micro syndicate "accident resolution" team who represents public transportation. We found  that the micro driver didn't have insurance. The Godfather from the Micro company went in and talked to the  captain.  I could overhear them talking about the blood results.  When I asked  to see the results, I was told I could mine but not his.  Great Rules of Discovery!  We waited in line for over 2 hours and every time we would get close, the captain would either leave or he would kick everyone in the room out.  It was like the game red light green light. If the officers didn't see you move forward you could advance.  If you didn't advance others would butt in front of you. 

      Two police officers talking to the Micro driver and syndicate, told me that if my insurance didn't settle it, both vehicles would we locked up for weeks maybe months, and we would both lose.  They told me the only way to get out of it was to say I didn't know the Micro, he had no insurance, and have my insurance pay the damage to mine.  Nacho went with me to the insurance, while his wife Claudia and Lorna went to get something to eat.  I filled out the insurance papers as the police told me and we went to see the pickup across town in an impound lot  Upon arriving there we told the agent that we did know who the driver was and we could locate the micro, and that I was told to say that. The agent said that he would work it out.  We took pics of the vehicle and took us back to the agency. He told us he would meet with us and the Micro Mafia at 3:00 pm. Nacho's only form of transportation is a Chinese motorbike so I drove wearing  my suit, tie flying back with 6'4" Nacho on the back. People don't believe he is Bolivian since he's more than a foot over their height  (Two people on a motorbike is uncommon in Bolivia. Usually it's four with a newborn strapped to the front fender.)As soon as we left the agency we passed the Temple president and missionaries.  It's a good thing Old missionaries don't have many rules. Come to think of it my license was still being held by the Bolivian police! 

            A fter lunch we went down to get in line again. The Micro syndicate people were there waiting for us.  After 45 minutes of waiting for the insurance agent  I called him. He stated they decided they weren't going to pay. I told the micro driver and thugs that we just as well go back and talk to the police.  After waiting  another  hour, I got  to the captain, he said "I've waited here all morning, for you."  I stated that I was here all morning and not allowed to see him plus a couple of hours the night before.  He said well I'm a very busy man.  Then he started in that a girl was hurt on the bus.  I asked if I could explain what happened. They just kept telling me their version  (scenes of the old movie  Midnight Express  regarding a Turkish prison kept running through my mind, and I've been inside the Bolivian prisons, they resemble the ones in Turkey)  I told them no drivers seemed to obey any laws, that they  didn't want to listen to the truth and how could it be my fault when I didn't hit anybody.  As their faces got redder I knew I was in trouble. Nacho led me by the arm and said Elder lets go. I told Nacho his country was corrupt and foreigners had no rights.  Lorna and I got into a cab and went home. I have never felt so low in my life.  That night Nacho and Claudia brought a pizza over and checked on us. Part of Lorna's toe nail got ripped off in the accident and both of us had mild whiplash and sore backs.  
            The next morning we went back to the insurance.  The agent reiterated that they were not going to pay.  I told him then I wanted a refund on the premium since they had never paid anything including my tailights which were stolen in front of their office while I bought my insurance.( See second blog post).  I happened to mention that the LDS church pays their company  premiums for nearly one thousand  missionaries  in the four missions in Bolivia and maybe I would let them know how I was treated, and that they had been looking at other insurance companies.  Their tuned changed, and told me to wait to cancel and to come back after lunch. When I went back they now said they were paying 100 percent and would go to meet with the Micro thugs.  I called the Micro syndication who agreed to meet us.  The insurance agent drove us to the police station and talked with the captain then settled with the Micro thugs within about five  minutes. We all went back and signed contracts,  which we were told to take to the police the next morning.  Saturday. Lorna and I arrived early and began the red light green light game again.  One of the Micro syndicate was there and told me I wasn't at fault and shouldn't  pay any fine,  (some people do have a conscience) . After waiting for the captain several times (they have to go to the scene for accidents), we got up to the front. My guy, Captain Morales (must be a cousin of Evo) said a girl was hurt and I was partly to blame, that we were both driving way too fast and were both at fault. After being interrupted numerous times I explained to him about the pickup turning in front of me, that if I was driving too fast I would not been able to stop without hitting him.  I told him neither one of us were driving too fast, that the Micro was following  too close. I told him I had been an attorney for the state, and although the laws might be different he should look at it reasonably.  He agreed, then told me I needed titles and other papers from the vehicle that I had never even heard of.  After nine trips to the police station which is across the city from where we live, I told one taxi driver as he dropped me off at the station, " Well I'm home!" All of that, along with three trips to the impound lot and one to the bank to pay a fine, and we finally got the pick up out and to the body shop.
            I know that many of my FOX news friends and followers of Rush, complain about our system of justice, and that criminals have too many rights, and sometimes get off on a technicality, but our system is so much better. There is nothing worse than feeling like you have no rights. So Kelly Mallard, keep on defending the guilty. By doing so you are protecting the innocent.