My backpack was stolen on the train from Toulouse to Marseille yesterday. I still can’t believe it. I was sleeping in the second-class section. It was a four hour trip. I would wake up read my book, look at the beautiful landscape, take some pictures and doze off again. When the train reached Toulouse I reached up to grab my backpack and it wasn’t there.
I was in shock. I have lost many things in my life. I lost my wallet on my last trip to Europe two Christmases ago. Clumsy I certainly am. But never ever has something been stolen from me. And who would expect it would happen in France?
I had my new Apple laptop in there. My U.S. passport. My hand-written phonebook which I’ve had for 17 years. My four green shirts and t-shirts which I took to Paris in solidarity with the July 25th Green Movement rally. Gifts from the Guggenheim museum in Blibao for my relatives in Nice. A pack of condoms. Everything!
Just that morning before I got on the train on the border of France and Spain, I took pictures of the backpack for a later photo essay. It was just like the one above, only the color was crimson-ish instead of blue. I was so impressed with it. It so many compartments and convenient features. I loved it. I had borrowed it from one my nephews.
As soon as I got off the train I rushed to the police office. They looked at me as if they had not had a case of robbery on the train in years. Or maybe they were reacting strange because of my t-shirt which had iranain.com written on it. In any case, I showed them the picture of the backpack too.
Passport. They wanted my passport. I said my passport was in the backpack. American. I took out my wallet and showed them my California driver’s license. Maybe I should not have said anything about being an American. Being an American is not what it used to be.
One of the officers opened a folder and looked up the contact info for the American consulate. I said don’t you want to write a stolen property report? No, we need a passport. I said you don’t want to write down anything for your own records that a passenger on your train was a victim of a crime? No, we need a passport. That’s unbelievable to to me. So it seems in its annual report the Mareseille police station shows fewer actual crimes because cases like mine never make their way into the books. Neat trick.
Then I went to the lost and found office. I filled out a form with my contact info in case anyone had taken my backpack by mistake. You never know. As I was filling out the report, this guy and his girlfriend walked in. Listen to this: he said he had lost his SUNGLASSES on the train not today, three days ago. I compared my situation and his and wanted to smack him in the head.
I’m in Nice with my relatives now. Everything is under control. Iranian.com will be updated shortly and a new computer is on its way. I will call the American consulate the first thing in the morning. I will buy some clothes; I will not walk on the beach wearing iranain.com! Or maybe I will. Iranians were seen one way before the election and are now seen another way. They’ve earned respect.
