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Crazy Travels: Always wear your fanny pack
By Donia Simmons
Nothing can accelerate your heart rate quicker than the discovery of a missing wallet while on vacation, especially when you’re in a foreign country where few people speak English.
This panic hit while on a college mission trip teaching English in Quito, Ecuador. It was supposed to be my day of fun touring the capital city’s Old Town section with the help of one of my native students named Paula.
Though she couldn’t speak much English, she led my friend Sara and me around the sprawling Independence Plaza past colonial buildings, fountains and trees. After taking pictures with the less than five-foot-tall native guards in front of the Presidential Palace, we went inside the Cathedral Church to see one of the oldest cathedrals in South America.
The shoulder-to-shoulder crowds inside the cathedral immediately made me wary of something unfortunate happening to my brown fanny pack. I had it tucked under my arm rather than strapped around my waist for aesthetic purposes, since it was never a favorite fashion statement of mine despite its safety advantages.
Little did I know, this wish for fashion over function was more of a risk than I bargained for.
A First Communion service had just ended, so the crowd began pushing past me trying to get out. I tucked my fanny pack tighter under my arm just to be safe.
In a moment’s time, I felt one person push me forward, while another person pushed me backwards along with my fanny pack. Confused, I heard something fall and looked to see batteries from my fanny pack on the ground.
With dread, I looked inside my somehow opened pack to see my wallet was gone. In a move of great speed and accuracy, the thief had pushed my bag out from under my arm, unzipped it and grabbed my wallet without missing a beat.
Even in my panic, I couldn’t help but be a little impressed.
Once I realized my passport, credit cards, driver’s license and $30 had all been in that one wallet, my heart sank. A million thoughts started rushing through my mind about how I’d have to go to the embassy, cancel my credit cards and figure out what else I needed to do to be allowed back into America.
In a high-pitched voice I told my two companions what had happened, and they quickly became alarmed as well. We could all tell that the likelihood of recovering any evidence of the robbery in that crowd would be next to impossible.
Paula and Sara led me to a bench outside the cathedral and away from the crowds so I could calm down and figure out what would be my next move. While I said a quick prayer and tried to think clearly, Paula noticed something under the bench where I was sitting.
Without a word, she picked up something and held it up for my inspection. It was my wallet. Evidentially, the church thieves had thrown it there after only taking the $30.
All three of us laughed over the miracle of sitting on the one bench in the giant plaza where the thief had chosen to hide my wallet.
“I can’t believe it,” Paula kept repeating with her thick accent.
After my scare, we decided to go out to dinner to celebrate the return of my wallet and let the lesson of always wearing a fanny pack – no matter the fashion cost – sink in while we ate.
If you have a crazy travel story you’d like to share, please email it to eliza@grouptravelleader.com!
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