By Shen Han Lee

Being Asian, I naturally err to the side of caution. I can’t help it. It’s built into my genetic makeup, together with hoarding a large percentage of my income and being good at math.

I like to think that this prudence extends to traveling and I made it a point to read all I could about staying safe during my two month stint in Europe.  Aside from the usual hackneyed advice about not flashing your gold Rolex, dangling your DSLR around your neck and wearing Hawaiian prints, I also made certain that I found out all about the various cons and scams that befell unsuspecting tourists.

When I arrived in Spain, I constantly watched out for the infamous ‘bird poo’ scam, a ploy where a con-artist comes up to you and robs you silly while ‘attempting’ to wipe the bird shit off the back of your shirt.

In France, I managed to side-step all the ‘deaf’ teenagers carrying clipboards. I was onto their €10 minimum charade and refused to even acknowledge their presence.

While making my way around Italy, I avoided gypsy women bearing cardboard signs and shooed their children away when they offered me roses. No sentimentality from me when you’re using your doe-eyed kids to take my wallet.

Heading into the last leg of my European tour, I started to fancy myself as a seasoned traveler, immune to the trivial frauds that preyed on ‘lesser’ tourists. After all, I waded in the shallow waters of treacherous Europe and managed to skillfully avoid the pond scum. By comparison, Switzerland – serene, prosperous, rule-oriented Switzerland should be a piece of cake.

Or so I thought.

Letting your guard down comes too easily in a place like Switzerland. The crowds aren’t as frantic, the streets are well maintained and the pets strut along the pavement in designer togs. It also helps that every other person seems to be wearing an extravagant Swiss watch, tourist or otherwise.

As I sauntered along the beautifully tiled sidewalks of Old Geneva, this supposedly seasoned traveler reasoned that nothing bad could ever happen in a country that manages to marry the charm of a pristine alpine environment with the sophistication of an elegant cultural capital.

After all, Lonely Planet states that Switzerland is one of the safest countries in Europe and you’re not going to argue with Lonely Planet are you?

Unfortunately, someone forgot to tell this to the crooks, and as popularized in most tourist tales of woe, I let my guard down when it mattered most.

I was waiting for the train to bring me back to Morges. My wife and I were crashing in with a friend and we were on our way back after a gorgeous day in Geneva. As we lounged around the platform fifteen minutes early (another distinctly Asian trait), I looked around the station, visibly impressed by how ridiculously efficient everything was.

The Swiss are renowned for their precision and it’s not difficult to understand why. The trains run like the well crafted, Swiss-made clockwork of their overpriced watches. Our train reached the platform at the time stated on the departure board, right down to the minute. The commuters formed a makeshift queue and boarded in an orderly manner.  A makeshift queue! I had been traveling in Europe for nearly two months and this was the first time I had seen anything resembling a queue outside the train. What could Switzerland possibly do to top this?

Contented, I took my spot in a spacious four-seater with my wife. The cabin was relatively empty and I left my bag in the opposite seat facing me. Now, this is probably the moment where you roll your eyes and exclaim that I had it coming. And yes, I am well aware of the travel literature that states that you should keep your belongings close to your person at all times. But this was freaking Switzerland! Nothing badwas supposed to happen down here.

We were two stops away from Morges. As the train came to a halt, I heard someone rapping urgently on the window next to me. I drew the shades and saw a disheveled, bug-eyed Swiss man gesticulating wildly at me. (I later found out that he was likely to be Eastern European but all Caucasians look the same to me). I stared at him transfixed, wondering why I always had to get the crazy ones. In a pantomime of improvised sign language, my wife tried to ask him what he wanted. After the mildly insane gesturing settled, the man tapped at his wrist in the universal language of asking for the time.

Quietly relieved that he probably wasn’t going to burst in through the windows and harvest our organs, we showed him the time on our watches. Without so much as a thank you, he flashed us the widest grin you’ll ever see, turned around and walked away from the platform.

My wife and I stared at each other, and we both smiled quizzically at the weirdly uncomfortable event that had unfolded. It was around this moment when I finally noticed that my bag was missing.

Furious, I ran out of the train. As I looked to my left and right, my stomach shriveled as I resigned myself to the fact that it was highly unlikely the thief managed to throw on a disguise as the pregnant woman with two kids so quickly.

My thoughts swayed towards combing the station for the thieves but my train was just getting ready to leave and logic dictated that they would already be long gone anyway.  Humiliated, I reluctantly turned back, cussing under my breath.

Did anyone else notice anything at all? I came back to a calmly silent cabin. It was as though things like this happened all the time. Everyone was staring out of the window, completely ignoring the hysterical Asian guy complaining loudly to his wife. To this day, I wonder whether anybody else on that train actually noticed the theft taking place.

Aside from the embarrassment of falling for such a simple misdirection, I was shorta messenger bag, wallet with €400, sunnies, and my newly purchased iPad. I’ll repeat that last bit for dramatic effect – my newly purchased iPad. I practically just gave it away to some nefarious jackass. So much for being a seasoned traveler.

The scam always seems so obvious in retrospect. One scumbag creates a distraction while another scumbag helps himself to your lunch. It’s the oldest trick in the book. I wasn’t the first tourist to fall for it and I certainly won’t be the last.

Ever since this incident, my belongings stay with me at all times. I view every bug-eyed, disheveled Caucasian with suspicion and I pay extra attention to my surroundings at train stops. For the rest of my European trip, every time I saw a white guy using his iPad in a café, I shot him a dirty look.

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About the Author

Shen Lee

Lee Shen Han is currently spending most of his time traveling around South America. He writes mainly as part of a coordinated vanity project to preserve his travel memories. He’s pretentious that way. You can read more about his exploits in www.knackpacker.com.