The mustard trick 2.0

When I did study abroad in Ecuador in 2009 we were warned that thieves in Quito had been know to spray mustard (or another staining substance) on the back on a tourists pants. The same thief, or an accomplice, would then come up to you and point out the mustard and tell you that they knew of a place where you could clean it off. If you went with them, they would get you away from other people and then rob you.

Once in 2009 I was walking through the Historic Center in Quito with a friend. That day in particular I was especially nervous since I had my laptop in my backpack, something I rarely took out of the house. A man came up behind me and tapped me on the shoulder. He pointed at the back of my pants. I looked and saw mustard down my right pant leg. He told me he knew of a place where I could clean my pants. I started to follow him out of instinct, but then I remembered the warning we had all been given about this exact situation. I turned around and walked away in the other direction with my friend.

Fast forward to 2012...

I arrived in Quito with a friend this morning (we took a night bus last night) and after dropping our stuff off at a hostal I took off to walk around the city (my friend had to stay at the hostal and do some work). I don't know what it is, but I just love walking down the narrow streets of the old town, seeing the different churches and squares. 12:30 rolled around and I started to make my way over to an indoor food market to meet a friend, who lives in Quito, for lunch.

I wasn't entirely sure where I was going so I would walk a couple of blocks and then check the map in the Lonely Planet. That's how I ended up at a random street corner about 8 blocks from the heart of the Old Town. I was looking down at the map when a guy to my left caught my eye.

"You want to go that way," he said while he pointed towards the center of the Old Town.

I ignored him and started to turn my attention back to... SPLAT.

A brown substance was all over my shirt.

'How do I have dulce de leche (think caramel) on my shirt...' I thought.

Another man came up to me. He pointed to the balcony above me and said, "You need to move."

I just stood there in shock, trying to figure out what had just happened. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, but what was really only a second or two, my brain started to work again.

'There is no way this came from the balcony. I need to get out of here'

I turned to my left and walked through a door and into a shop.. That's when the smell hit me. Whatever was on my shirt smelled horrible. I mean, terrible.

I asked the gentleman in the shop if I could use the bathroom. He warned me that the people outside were trying to rob me and then kindly pointed me in the direction of the bathroom.

As I walked into the bathroom, the truth finally dawned on me. It wasn't mustard this time. It wasn't ducle de leche. I was feces (pretty sure it came from a human too). I was furious.

'Rob me. Push me. Punch me. But this?!?' I didn't want to believe it.

Luckily I had another shirt in my backpack. And the thieves didn't get anything of mine. But, it had gotten on my shirt, pants, shoes, backpack and guide book.

T-shirt went in the trash. Pants and backpack got a good scrub with detergent at the hotel. Shoes.. We'll it's just a spot. And I haven't looked at the guidebook yet. I just put it under the bed telling myself I'd deal with it later.

No pictures this time... You don't want picture of this. I was trying to figure out why I got so hungry around 5 pm. And then I realized.. the smell had killed my appetite at lunch. I had tried to eat, but couldn't.

DEAR CRIMINALS OF THE WORLD,
THERE ARE SOME LINES THAT SHOULDN'T BE CROSSED. EVEN IF YOU'RE ABOUT TO ROB ME!!!
SINCERELY,
ME, HUMANITY, HUMAN DECENCY

When I finally left the store bathroom and stepped onto the street I swore loud enough to startle a man 5 or so feet away. You should all know me well enough to know that it takes a lot to get me to that point.