Mimi's Sorry Story...

At the top of the electronic dictionary was a word known, but not often heard in a hostel's dorm: "fraud". Mimi, a japenese girl who has been sleeping next to me--in her own bed, moshi moshi--was clearly heart-stricken as the PDA hung limply from her petite hand and her lanky body curved across her bed.

I had just returned from the gym and was starving, but this clearly took primary attention. She proceeded to tell me "the story"--and eventually told it to me some 5 times, though its clarity was cloaked in her broken English and thus, elusive--sobbing here and there. Mimi is 31 and somehow life has not taught her the valuable lesson (literally) of distrusting people, specifically locals who approach you and are extremely kind with a heavy hearted story.

A heavy hearted story like, "my family in big trouble and must to leave Sabah in 3 days so we no get in trouble. It's many money to get there, and we very scared." Bea, a philippino girl had struck up a really pleasant conversation and invited Mimi for a coffee to chat and "practise english"; though Mimi was probably the one learning--poor thing. They sit down and Bea constantly cajoles Mimi...

------Approach Bea's 'cousin' who sits down and begins to show interest in Mimi and "must teach her how to play a game of cards". "The thing is Mimi, I know a way that we can win, guaranteed!" Mimi is japanese and has plenty of money (certainly compared to these people) and told them that she wasn't interested in making money. This jerkoff told her that they needed the money for their family and that he would put up the money for her to win, then they would split it 50%. Mimi refused and refused, but finally said okay with the ostensible fact that these people were very sweet and in need; furthermore, it would be something fun...maybe (HAH).
She lost the 600 Ringghit (divide all these figures by 3 to get a rough idea in US dollars) that he had given her, but "no problem" he would go to a money lender and get more money. But hey, "why you no go to ATM to get money too? Bea will go with you."
Everyone can see where this is going, and it's going down a road that cannot be 'fun' and certainly not profitable. Mimi felt she had to go to the ATM and get some money out, but the problem was that Bea was with her and made sure that Mimi took out as much as she could. How much would that be? Oh...sadly, it wouldn't be just ATM cash withdrawels; oh no. Before she withdrew cash, they went to cash some traveller's checks in the amount of 1,750MR (again divide by 3). Only then did they go to the ATM and pull out 1,500MR...then another 1,500...then another then another, yada yada yada she's gonna lose alotta--14,000MR to be exact, in cash added with the AmEx checks and another random stop she ended up losing just under 18,000MR to these "needy" people.
To hear the story made me sick. First, I wanted to slap the Sapporo out of her for being so stupid...I mean bloody hell, get-a-geisha's clue woman!!! To her defense, she kept saying no, but there was a form of force involved (even though it was self-imposed). Also, "Japan is a trustworthy country where people just don't do this sort of thing" (yeah right...have you heard of yakuza?). And finally, I know from first hand experience that your thought processes and deduction is much different when you're in the moment and there are a thousand things going on at the same time.

A $6000US lesson she MUST learn, and I think she has...flippin' hope so! But first, I went with her to fill out a police report in English--cuz the girl is hopeless...ly trying--and found a completely different farce going on here. Superficially, the station looked legit and that there might be hope in her at least getting them arrested or made known to other travellers. I filled in the report as best I understood it (roughly as well as you can understand a Laotian lawbook) and we were sent upstairs to talk to an officer.

The room was laden with dusty boxes, an archaic computer monitor, unhooked, about 12 feet up reaching for its own dust, and 2 typewriters which I found extremely similar to the old finger-puncher that my mother had downstairs (along with her shag carpet). There were some uniforms hung in corners, a pile of cigarette butts on each of the 4 desks, with their occupiers ready to donate yet another to the cans of cancer. Only one of them had on an actual uniform--he was the one we spoke to--while the others read papers with clove sticks dripping from their relaxed lips. There was a cabinet with folders that would have fit right into a 1st grade room as an coat/bag locker. This infant countenance wasn't misplaced as I would see later.

Mimi told the officer that Bea wanted to meet her again that very night, then he stepped outside for a bit and had us follow him to the "detective's" office. Here a plan would emerge. Of course, I was thinking that it would be easy to use Mimi as bait (poor mimi) and follow them, etc. Then the officer and the dick, sorry detective spoke in confidence and came up with my plan but without any serious thought or plan--ie. what if they lost her in transit, how would mimi "play the game" without any money (completely broke), and what they'd do once they caught them. The officer was like a kid applying peer pressure to go and knock on a door and run, or steal a peak into the girl's lockerroom...come on man! "Just tell her you have money and you want to play. No matter if she ask for money...just say you have." Clearly this Billy 4th grade didn't read the report I so laboriously handwrote that said that Bea was constantly making sure how much money mimi had. So instead, the det. drove us around trying to find the place, no luck. Finally, to arrange the "sting" we were to call his superior officer (thank god) to set it up for later that night.

She called him later and he came over and they discussed the details of which, there was the 'stinging' reality that she would definately not get the money back. She decided not to go ahead with it, though he kept wanting to put her into the chasm of risk that this incipient, rudimentary "mission" implied. Finally, he had the sack to ask her to dinner, then a few drinks afterwards. He then said that they could issue another report that wouldn't include the "gambling" activities that were illegal and thus make it more possible to get money back from her insurance comp. This guy was sooo scandalous. She accepted dinner, but said hell no to everything after cuz she got the idea of what this guy was after.

What a day...my second day left in KK and I get an inside look at a police station and their tactics. Indo will be so much the worse with regard to corruption, and I can't wait!!!

Gambling is a huge problem here in Sabah where there are a lot of chinese-malay mix. I read about a gambling shut-down, detention of multiple gambling crimals, daily. Just over the gym I work out at, there was a guy who jumped to his death cuz he owed more than he could ever hope to repay. I only saw the cop cars, but the front page had his bloody head in a huge picture, completely uncensored...cultural differences.

Arrived in Tawau and 1st order of buz...check! I nabbed my visa for Indo which was easy when I finally conceded to buy a return ticket that I'll swallow in the game of "travel's" gains n' losses. At the consulate, not much more than a step over a gate, walk into what could be imagined as a wall of judging/curious eyes--outcast cast over me. I was called on to cut the queue and go in front of the 15 people who'd been waiting since early morning...I felt terrible. When they issued the visas they shouted out at the Malaysian and Indonesians to come grab their paperwork; however, with me they went to the loudspeaker--"attention ladies and gentleman...would Mr. Murray Fisher please come to window 2 to retrieve his documents?" I was leaning against a pole in plain sight not 5 meters away reading my economist...lackey was takin' a crack at me. It was quite funny to see the entire crowd all turn and give me a look when they heard the 'foreign' name...stop the juke baby! Not 5 seconds after I snatched up my "legal acceptance" did the shouting resume followed by laughter of which I couldn't be a part of...outwardly.

...oh yeah, how did I get here? Briefly (if I can ever manage that)

I rolled up to the airport with Mimi and seriously asked the driver if he brought us to the right place. The airport looked like a mediocre bus terminal--security was left to the fear the cockroaches might instill upon being seen. We said a number of things, then finally L8r. In flight, I met a guy Anders (sweedish, now dutch) who's gonna run another adventure with me...we just bought a makeshift excuse 4 a tent...I'm pumped...let's write this story!