CHIAPAS, MEXICO – For an amateur photographer, the mountain town of San Cristobal de las Casas offers plenty of opportunities to capture interesting images. From its colonial architecture, narrow cobbled streets and sweeping views to its lively crafts market, towering cathedrals and indigenous farmers offering their harvest at the farmers market. At nearly every turn, I found myself focusing my lens on yet another colorful scene.
I wandered through the rambling craft market, its stalls filled with hand-stitched clothing, brilliant embroidery, woven fabrics, beadwork, silver jewelry and hand-polished fossils, merrily snapping photos of anything and everything that caught my eye.
Most of the indigenous people are wary of photographers, averting their faces or turning their backs if they see a lens pointed their way, so I was careful to respect their wishes, though I did capture a few images with permission or incidental to my primary target.
In one of the market aisles, I came upon a booth that featured a couple of small aquariums, one filled with a colorful land crab, and another teeming with small turtles. The vendors also had a selection of pet food and accessories for the small creatures.
I was drawn to a tank filled with turtles
I was drawn to the tank full of turtles, quickly focusing on their intricately patterned shells to snap a photo. As one of the turtles craned its neck upward, I was lining up another shot when, seemingly from nowhere, a hand covered my lens and a boy, maybe around 10 years old, demanded, “Cinco pesos! Pagarme por la foto!” (“Five pesos! Pay me for the photo!”)
Stunned, I replied in my best broken Spanish, “Cinco pesos? Para una foto?” (“Five pesos? For one photo?”) “No.”
He was insistent. “¡Cinco pesos, cinco pesos!”
“¡Tanto!” I replied. (“So much!). “Cinco pesos es muy caro para solamente una foto.” (“Five pesos is very expensive for only one photo.”) “No,” I said again as I turned to walk away.
The young vendor quickly moved to block my escape, standing in my path with his hand extended. “¡Cinco pesos!”
I tried again to maneuver around him in the narrow aisle so I could leave.
“Pay me or I call the cops”
“Paga me o llamaré la policia,” he demanded. (“Pay me or I’ll call the police.”)
“Would he really call the police?” I wondered. Hardly. And if he did, they would certainly not care about a tourist snapping photos of his turtles. But I was up against a venerable opponent.
By now, I had become aware of his older sister and his father at the back of the booth, both snickering at the antics of the young extortionist. “No,” I repeated. “Cinco pesos es demasiado para una foto.” (Five pesos is too much for one photo).
Finally, the blackmailer’s resolve began to crumble. “¡Dos pesos!” he demanded this time. (“Two pesos!”)
I saw an opportunity to end the standoff peacefully
Seeing an opportunity to end the standoff peacefully, I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small coin. “Una peso,” I said as I handed him the coin. (“One peso.”)
Coin firmly in hand, his mission accomplished, the young man beamed as he stepped aside and retook his position behind the table. At last free to make my escape, I cast a smile toward the father and sister who were still giggling about the scene that had unfolded before them.
In English I said to them, “He’s a crook,” pointing toward the happy young entrepreneur as I hurried away in search of more cooperative subjects for my camera.
