Buying a Mexican Handgun.... The Saga of Wally and Calmex

[Wally]

Buying a Mexican Handgun.... The Saga of Wally & Calmex
Faces have been blurred to protect the guilty

This story begins the same as many. One day you meet a stranger on the internet, you bond over your collective hatred for an entire country and then decide that it's a good idea to meet up in person to drink beer and eat hamburgers. And so began the Saga of Wally and Calmex.

So Cal and I originally met on a sunny afternoon in southern B.C. I was on a truncated time table so we really only had time for lunch but not long after we were conspiring to meet up in Mexico. As luck would have it we were both scheduled to be in central Mexico in early April and within just a couple of hours of each other. Cal had long told me about how difficult it is to buy and register guns in Mexico but be both started off with a "what the hell, might as well give it a shot" attitude.

A few days before our scheduled flight to the mainland the wife and I were driving around town and I figured we may as well make a couple of stops and inquire about some of the papers required to make a purchase. The first was a lack of criminal record declaration. We first stopped at the local Department of Justice, which is also the prison and they told us we could get this paper at a kiosk in a local mall. Sure enough, $150 pesos (about $10 CAD) later, they had emailed me the criminal record search.

OK, on to the next. I figured I would need a declaration of residence from the local government. This involved a bunch more driving around and ended up being a multi day process. I was also horrified to find out that the cost for this little devil was $2000 pesos (about $150 CAD). "OK, well now I'm getting more than my feet wet" I thought. Understanding that nothing was guaranteed in this process I wrote of the expense and chalked it up to pay-to-play.

Luckily the declaration of residence would be ready the Monday before the flight so I spent the weekend making copies and finding originals of LITERALLY EVERYTHING I could think of. Cal had told me "if the army asks you for something and you don't have it, we're sunk" so I was finding birth certificates, marriage certificates, residence paperwork, copies of all my IDs, passports, utility bills.... literally everything I could think of and making multiple copies of it all. While I'm doing all of this Cal is calling everyone he knows at the gun clubs in Mexico and trying to get as much information as humanly possible about the requirements.

So finally Monday rolls around, my bags are packed and I have a big, thick mountain of paperwork and I'm feeling pretty good about everything. Then I get a message from Cal.... "so uhh, I think you're going to need a psychological evaluation and a drug test" he says (I'm paraphrasing, he may not have said that exactly). I laughed to my self and sent back a "Seriously?". It's a day before my flight to Mexico City and we have 1 free day there before we drive to the family ranch in Hidalgo. I send a message back something to the tune of "there is no f#cking way I'm getting my hands on that before the trip". At this point I was thinking "ok, we're done, this definitely isn't going to happen". Out of some morbid curiosity I figured I might as well take a look and see what I could find. I had remembered seeing a post on the Mexican version of CGN where a guy was saying "send me a message if you need a psychological profile, I have a doctor." So I sent the guy a message not expecting to hear back within the ridiculously tight timelines and, by some miracle (this would be miracle #1 in a long series of miracles), he sent me a message the following morning with the contact information for a doctor in Mexico city. So I send the doctor a message asking the ridiculous question "by any chance would you have an opening in your schedule for TOMORROW?" Miracle #2, he actually responded and said "sure, how about tomorrow at 9am?" I nearly fell out of my seat. He was also pretty close to my in-laws house too so it's wasn't a massive hassle to get there.

The next morning the wife and I wake our selves up, eat breakfast and head out for the day. We arrive at the sketchiest security gate and adjoining hallway I have ever seen. It was a long, dark hallway with a flickering fluorescent light at the other end... it was literally like something out of a movie or a video game and it occurred to me that this is how we end up in a bathtub full of ice with missing organs. I should have taken a picture. So we roll the dice, head down the hall and then up the stairs to the 3rd floor to an office that is clearly a converted apartment. It wasn't the fanciest office I've ever seen but it wasn't out of the ordinary for Mexico. We were greeted by the receptionist and then shortly after the doctor. He wasted no time and immediately set to work unfolding a plastic table (I $hit you not) and handed me a pencil and some paper. He made me fill out my address and a bunch of other clerical information. He then says "Ok, I want you to draw a picture of a person". Uhhh ok.... "anyone?" I ask. "Yep, anyone" he replies. I was pretty lost for words and started chuckling at the sheer ridiculousness as I drew a grade-3 like depiction of myself. He then asks me to turn over the sheet and write a story about the picture. "Oh god, here we go" I thought. Luckily my Spanish was up to the task so I scribbled down some garbage about my move to Mexico... only a couple of sentences but apparently that was sufficient. He then passes me another test sheet with a table on it and a corresponding sheet with numbers in the table. He says "copy the numbers from this sheet to that sheet". So I copied all of the numbers and he then says "ok, erase these numbers" pointing to a few boxes "and write in these numbers." Basically what's going on here is that he's having me erase just the right number of correct answers and enter incorrect answers so that my test is good enough but not perfect. This is the type of corruption that makes Mexico such a wonderful country. He then hands me a cup and tells me to go pee in it. I had never taken a drug test before but it was a quick and painless process and, as I expected, the results were all negative.

Anyway, all of this cost me another $2500 pesos ($185 CAD) so the water was getting deeper. Now my commitment to the process is starting to build. The doc told me that the papers would be ready the following morning so the wife and I took the opportunity to go see some local sites. We went to the Museum of Anthropology in Mexico city which is totally worth going to see. We got to see the original, authentic Mayan calendar as well as massive stones carved by the #####s for ritual sacrifice. It is worth going to check out if you're ever in Mexico city.

 

[Wally]

So the next morning we woke up, collected my tests and drove to the ranch in Hidalgo. I had 3 weeks in central Mexico so the we had ample time to organize our trip north to see Cal in Salamanca. I can't remember when exactly but somewhere between home and here Cal informed me that he had a gun for me to buy from his friend in San Miguel de Allende. It was a 4" model 28 that has previously starred in some of Cal's other posts and videos here on CGN. The deeper we got into our trip the more "fun" surprised started to appear. I was coordinating to see Cal and then the 2 of us were trying to coordinate with the owner of the gun to meet in Queratero, which is about an hour drive for all parties, basically in the middle of a triangle composed by our 3 towns. So on top of trying to coordinate 3 people, Cal casually informs me that I will only have 24hrs to get the gun to my home address after registering it. Now, normally this wouldn't be such a big problem except for the fact that there is a 2hr flight between the gun and home and I wasn't going to book another, earlier, flight to get home and then fly back to the ranch for the remainder of my trip. I would have had to inform the Department of Justice that I was taking the gun on the plane so there was really no way around this. So we sketchily decided that we would try to register the gun to the ranch. For this I needed my father-in-law to write me a letter saying that my wife and I were moving to the ranch. Now luckily, my father-in-law is epic and also happened to be building my wife and I a house on the ranch property so it wasn't all BS. So I needed this letter, a copy of my FIL's utility bill and a copy of his ID. We shall call this Miracle #3. Luckily out of this whole process my FIL tells me all about the guns he has on the ranch and proceeds to let me shoot them! This was a excellent bonding experience for the two of us. I didn't get any shots of anyone shooting them but figured you guys only really want to see the guns anyway, haha. There are more but they are just shotguns and .22lr rifle. Nothing exciting.

And before anyone asks about transport permits I'll let you know that this is a whole other crazy process that I haven't tackled yet. Basically I require all of the same paperwork as I required to register the gun to join a shooting range... which can be upwards of $1000CAD/year, depending on the range AND they may need to see/inspect the gun before they will allow me to join. Once I join a club I can get the paperwork to transport my gun. I would have to declare which states I want to take the gun to and why. Anyway, eventually I should be able to transport the gun between Hidalgo and my home state.

So anyway, solving all of these little problems allows Cal and I to coordinate to meet up early in the week about a week before we're both scheduled to leave central Mexico. Me going home and him returning finish out his sentence in Kanada.

So travel day finally arrives and the wife and I pack up for the drive to Salamanca on Sunday afternoon. Before we can even get to the car I start getting texts from Cal saying "Sooo it looks like you're going to need a Carta de Trabajo...." Oh my f'ing god, what kind of sweet hell is this. Apparently I required a letter from an accountant saying that my work is legal and detailing how much money I bring in on a yearly basis. Cal was apologizing profusely and insisted that he had been asking the Mexicans for weeks what paperwork was required and they just tossed this little tidbit in at the last possible minute. So, as with the psychological profile, I'm thinking there's no way in hell we're going to get this done. Cal kept asking me if there were any family accountants. There are! There's one in Mexico city, and there's no way we're driving there to get it AND since it's the end of the holy week, everyone is on vacation. Also, there was a cousin who's an accountant who was at the ranch 3 times over the previous week but, because it was the last possible minute, she had gone to Mexico city and wasn't due back until after our time window would have closed. More scheming ensues... finally I said "listen, I have invoices and bank records, can't we get an accountant in San Miguel de Allende to sign off on this?" This got Cal's gears turning and he says "Hold on, let me make some calls." As if to pull a rabbit out of a hat, he get back to me and says "Yes! We have a contact in SMdA who may be able to do it but we are going to have to cross our fingers and hope he's in his office tomorrow morning". Again, at this point hope is fading and I'm thinking "there's no way in hell."

This trip will take us through what is apparently the "most dangerous city in the world", Celaya. We just passed through on the highway but we were greeted with burning tires in the median. I'm not sure exactly why but I'm guessing it's some sort of a territory marker as there are 2 rival gangs engaged in a territory dispute in the area. Jalisco New Generation and either the Santa Rosa De Lima Cartel or Los Huachicoleros. A huachicolero (why-chico-lero) is someone who steals oil/gasoline and it's no uncommon to see people on the side of the highway selling stolen gasoline out of barrels. I know the Santa Rose De Lima cartal has taken damage in the last few years and I had heard there's a gang calling themselves Los Huachicoleros, which could be the same gang or remnants of the old gang... I have no idea. All I know is that they all have guns and are up to no good. I could have taken pictures but there really isn't much to see and isn't all that exciting. I will tell you that it isn't much to look at and the idea of gentrification hasn't landed in Celaya yet.

So we roll into the Salamanca and are greeted by the flames from the refinery in town. As I'm sure you can imagine, this explains all the gas/oil stealing gangs in the area. In talking with Cal he referred to Salamanca numerous times as "the Beirut of Mexico". I didn't see this slogan on any of signs but I was keeping my eyes peeled for bullet holes and bomb craters; I didn't see any but I took his word for it and I can tell you I was uncomfortable throughout my time in the area. Yes, I know what you're all thinking and don't worry, I took the appropriate precautions:

Here we can see the lovely view of the refinery from the hotel room.

We met up with Cal and his lovely wife for dinner. It was easily the biggest hamburger I've ever eaten in my life. It was ridiculous and I should have taken a picture of it too. This was pretty quick and dirty as we all new we had a big day the following day.

 

[Wally]

So day two begins with a sort throat and the smell of petrochemicals thick in our hotel room. We headed downstairs for the included breakfast which, surprisingly, was really friggen good. It was a breakfast buffet with a chef who would cook you eggs in any style on a griddle. Just fabulous. So we ate and headed over to pick up Cal and his wife. From Cal's place we all pile into a Fiat 500 (Cal tells me Fiat is Italian for "sardine" and he wouldn't be far off) and start the drive to SMdA which requires returning to Celaya to take the turnoff. As we're driving Cal is telling me about all of the idiots who drive from SMdA to Celaya to buy new cars and then get carjacked on their way out of town before they even have time to buy insurance. Apparently it was of high importance to be back in Salamanca before sundown.

So we pull into SMdA and the first order of business is to find this accountant. As we drive by the first time at about 10:30am all of the doors are close. Not a great start. So we park the car and go around to do some door knocking. Luckily, not only are there people inside but Cal actually knows them from his 30-some-odd years of living and working in San Miguel. The accountant isn't in but the girls give him a call and he rolls in about 10 minutes later. It turns out that Cal knows the accountant too and this beautiful human being writes me the exact letter that I need and signs it. There was another fly in the ointment that I don't have a Mexican tax number, which we needed for the next step and this guy give us a generic tax number to be used in situations just like this. I think we could probably refer to this entire visit as Miracles #4, #5 AND #6 with #4 being the biggest with people actually being in the office on a Monday morning after one of the biggest (drinking) weekends of the year. This was a $1000 peso visit ($75 CAD).

So with a renewed sense of optimism we set off for downtown to get some lunch and enjoy the sights in SMdA. I won't drone on about how beautiful the city is but it's definitely another place worth seeing if you're ever in central Mexico. Cal told me many stories about how incredible the place once was and about how he could never live there again as it's now gentrified and full of gringos. He's not wrong. It's full of upscale stores and restaurants and there are more white faces on the streets than there are Mexican.

Notes:
1) Yes, I got fat over the COVID "Holiday" as all of the gyms were closed here and I attempted to drink away my pandemic depression.
2) No, I'm not posting photos of the wives for you animals to tear apart.
3) I don't know how Cal finds the energy to write all of his epic posts. I'm doing this for you, buddy (I actually think it was one of his stipulations for helping me).
4) Cal's hair was intentionally left un-blocked in the photos. It's nice hair. I covet his hair.

 

[Wally]

So after lunch we set off for our final piece of paperwork: A government form that allows us to transport the gun to the army base in Queretaro for the transfer. We used the newly acquired generic tax number, printed off 4 copies just in case and headed over to the bank to make the $500 peso payment ($40 CAD). We get to the bank and the girl at the door informs us that the bank closes for payments at 2pm. It was EXACTLY 2pm. This caused a small panic so we quickly proceeded to the next bank where, luckily, we were able to make the final payment, concluding my massive stack of paperwork.

With the paperwork out of the way we sent the girls downtown to the market and Cal took me on a whirlwind tour to meet the gun owner and some of his other friends in SMdA. I will just say that I saw a massive collection of armaments that I thought was impossible to own in Mexico and it has really got me excited about my future as a gun owner in this wonderful country.

So we passed off the transport form to the owner of the Pistol, George and made our way out of town trying to meet the ever-present deadline of sundown in Celaya. As an aside, Mexico has a long and historic love of speedbumps. I imagine there is a speed bump museum somewhere in this country. My personal favourite is the practice of exiting a city where the speed limit changes from 50-60kph to 80-90kph and the road opens up into what looks like a freeway and BANG, speed bump. This exact scenario played out perfectly and as I was asking my fellow sardines about their level of comfort and suggesting that I could put on the A/C I failed to notice the unpainted speed bump glistening in late afternoon sun. I slammed on the brakes and we slid into this lurking beauty at about 70-80kph. The suspension must have been already taxed with 4 human meat sacks smashed into such a small car and I think I can honestly say this was the first time I had ever taken a Fiat 500 air born. Thankfully we didn't break anything. Despite the massive force of the impact the car was no worse for wear. I think we can call this Miracle #7.

All of these trips passed very quickly with Cal regaling me with tales of AK-47 car jackings and his history as a German Nazi pickle baron back in the '90s... I'll leave it to him to tell that story. Maybe you'll be lucky enough to meet Cal some time in the future as the story is best told in person.

So we're driving back to Salamanca and Cal looks at me. I look at him and he says "You brought pants, right?" What am I, an idiot? Of course not. Of course I did not bring pants on a trip in a country where it's basically 30° outside every day. I think at this point Cal just stared at me. So Cal explains to me what a horrible idea it is to walk into an army based dressed like I'm in Cancun for spring break. It was hard not to see his logic. Funny enough, I had brought shoes for this exact reason but had neglected to pack pants. Sooooo now begins the "Wardrobe Shopping With Calmex" portion of the story. We made it back to Salamanca safely and our first stop is a department store. I bet we spent a good hour trying to find shirts and pants that would fit my big fat COVID body and look halfway respectable. Done. Another bullet dodged.

We went back to the hotel, ate dinner and I spent the night rolling around in my bed listening for gunshots. I didn't hear any and I'm guessing I couldn't sleep out of a mix between excitement and terror... not of the narcos, no, terror of being turned down by the soldiers in the arms registration office in Queretaro.

So we woke up early the next morning, picked up Cal and his wife for a second time and drove down to Queretaro. By the time we were rolling into town George was already calling us to see where we were. The army office opened at 9am and it was just shortly after 9. We walked in and started pulling out paperwork. Cal snapped an illegal photo of us in the office. It's not much to look at but I assure you it was full of army staff. You can see my sweet new wardrobe.

So the Sargent looks over all of my forms goes to his computer and prints out a receipt, comes back over and staples it to my big, fat pile of paperwork that I brought for him. That was it! I had everything. I had fufilled every requirement. Then he looks at George...... George didn't bring an original copy of his registration paperwork. The blood pressure started to rise. George starts to argue with the Sargent and Cal and I are thinking "this is not good". Then the Sargent says "I'm going to do you a favour" and I was thinking "please let it be that you'll let it slide this one time". George doesn't speak any Spanish so both Can and I say "Shut up, George, he said he's going to do you a favour!!" No, the favour was that he would take the photocopy and submit it to his general and it would be reissued in 3-4 days. F#ck. That wasn't going to work as it was Wednesday, Cal's flight was on Monday and Mine on Tuesday and I wasn't planning on coming back to Queretaro. I looked at George and said "better start driving". The army office closed at noon but if he got a move on he could drive back to SMdA and then back to the army office before then. The Sargent was kind enough to say that he would be in the office until 1:30 so that gave us a little extra breathing room. So that sinking feeling set back in as George drove away. We had a few hours to kill so we went to a coffee shop. The girls drank coffee and played on their phones and Cal and I took a stroll down to the custom shop, which is basically a guy working on guns in one room that's jammed full of lathes, mills, benches and hand tools. We get back to the coffee shop and it's been about an hour and a half since George left. We're greeted with good news that George found the form and is on his way back to the base. It was about 10 to 11 and Cal said "we had better get back over there and make sure they keep the gate open if George can't make it back on time. So we wait around in the parking lot and George rolls back in at about 12:30. Miracle #8. We get back into the office and the Sargent looks at the gun and all the paperwork. It was a little tense since, at this point, nothing has been approved. He starts typing stuff into his computer and finally calls me over to confirm some address details. So far no issues. Finally they print off a form, the Sargent, captain and my self sign it, they take my fingerprint and it's official. After all of that work, money and uncertainty I'm finally a Mexican gun owner! I believe we'll call the conclusion of the entire process Miracle #9.

Cal summed it all up by saying "Congratulations, you're almost a real person with right's in Mexico". Apparently I'll be a real boy once I get my transport permit.

Some of the details have been left out intentionally both for brevity and legality.

 

[Wally]

Anyway, that's my story of buying a gun in Mexico. All said and done it cost me about $450.00 CAD JUST FOR PAPERWORK. That doesn't include food/travel/wardrobe expenses, the help of a good friend and the massive amount of luck required to pull it all together. There was a time when I would have said "You think the process is bad in Canada?" but, since you can't even transfer handguns in Canada anymore, I would say Mexico has the leg up despite all of the BS.

Without further ado I'll post some photos of the actual gun and follow it up with some random stuff from the ranch.

The new S&W Model 28

The new S&W Model 28

Me Shooting

Glory shot, shooting in the back 40

The wife shooting

One just to piss of the safety Nazis

The ranch dogs love to sleep on the side-by-side

Old school farming with a horse team

The pool at the ranch

2 of a million ranch dogs. German short haired pointers. I love these dogs

Sheep I killed with a knife

Ranch hand butchering the sheep for Semana Santa (Holy Week, AKA Easter)

Eating tacitos after prepping 2 sheep and watching the Barbacoa pit burn down.

FIL's 1914 Winchester 30WCF from the Mexican revolution

Mexican #### Fights at the fair!

Mixing rum & coke on the edge of the cockfighting ring hahaha

Delicious meats cooked Mexican style at the fair. Sooo good.

Mexican cowboys known as "charros" at the rodeo. Show is know as a "Charreada". These guys are the real deal. Incredibly talented.

 

[Wally]

I know I'm gonna need more.

*ETA* Nope, done, these can be deleted.

 

[Wally]

And one more for good luck.

*ETA* Nope, done, these can be deleted.

 

[GreenBob]

:laugh:

Keep them coming! It was a very interesting read.

 

[Wally]

:laugh:

Keep them coming! It was a very interesting read.

Glad you enjoyed reading it because it took me all afternoon to write. Good lord

 

[scianna54]

In those kind of countries, things only appear to be cheap and an easy going life - until you are trying to get the same lifestyle as in Canada. And a lot more dangerous. I lived in Asia for 5 years. I miss it but at the moment I am still recovering. The mentality is a big hurdle, bigger than how it may seem at first. You will see.

 

[Wally]

In those kind of countries, things only appear to be cheap and an easy going life - until you are trying to get the same lifestyle as in Canada. And a lot more dangerous. I lived in Asia for 5 years. I miss it but at the moment I am still recovering. The mentality is a big hurdle, bigger than how it may seem at first. You will see.

I'm coming up on 5 years, I'm married and I'm happy as a clam. I'm getting deeper in to Mexican culture and have zero plans to return to Kanada.

 

[bertn]

Thanks Wally for sharing, looking forward hearing more in the future.

Hoping to some day spend the winters in central or South America or Thailand or somewhere warm and affordable so love these stories.
My daughter is currently in Basil for a year (on exchange) and there are really beautiful places there as well.

 

[DaveMachine]

Genuinely entertaining thread, cudos

 

[lpel]

Great read. Thx for posting. Met Cal while in Oliver a few years back.

 

[marshall]

what happens if you go over the limit? just stops? ( the post length)
I would spend hrs correcting typing errors.

Great story , all new stuff for me .

 

[medvedqc]

thank you for the story and pictures ... loved it.

baccardi and coke has a name: cuba libre ...

 

[nick237]

I need to get better at speaking Spanish

 

[calmex]

That's an accurate report according to my memory of our adventure. I really want to take a look at that area near your FIL's ranch. We might sell our property in Guanajuato to "up" our on-hand cash to afford something nicer in that area over there than we can right now with the cash we have available but the property just sitting there. Guanajuato is always going to be a combat zone during my lifetime I fear. Of course, if my nephew becomes Governor next year -- Guanajuato will be the place "ya wanna be", as they said to Jed Clampett. At least, if you're me. I will post some personal comments and reflections on what we did when I am off on Monday or Tuesday but I really liked your write-up. The photos you show are the Mexico I lived in, which San Miguel no longer represents but did back in the day. Gringos and Canadians have a way of polluting things by trying to change them to be "more like back home" and it sure killed San Miguel. But all the people fresh off the boat just love it, of course.

In those kind of countries, things only appear to be cheap and an easy going life - until you are trying to get the same lifestyle as in Canada. And a lot more dangerous. I lived in Asia for 5 years. I miss it but at the moment I am still recovering. The mentality is a big hurdle, bigger than how it may seem at first. You will see.

I lived in Mexico a long time, and went "native". For me, it's coming back to Canada that's hard. I don't fit in, and never will. But you're right, because only about 2 out of 1,000 Canadians or Americans seem to be able to adapt to Mexico. Wally's Spanish is really excellent, and he's only got four years in. And it's always the case that the people who make it are the ones who learn the language. And most (998/1000) never do. They swear they're going to....but they never do.

 

[calmex]

Here is one comment to wet your whistle: in the Mexican Gun Law, there is a "special exemption" for Charros who are members of the Charro Association. You are permitted to wear and own a "prohibited handgun" for display and use with your Charro costume. Many Charros own old Peacemakers, or S&W Triple-locks or 1917's or early Model 24's or other .44 or .45 Caliber handguns and wear them in ornate holsters while riding in their Charro events. The law specifies that the guns must always be unloaded, and that possessing ammunition for these "prohibited" weapons is not allowed (although this rule is commonly ignored). I see nobody in these photos wearing a pistol, but it's actually not all that common to see them wearing their sixguns at actual Charro events: they wear them at local parades and social events. It's the Mexican Charro version of a "BBQ gun", and the Mexican Gun Law specifically permits it. Go ahead, look it up, you'll see I'm right.

 

[FatCatsDad]

Gringos and Canadians have a way of polluting things by trying to change them to be "more like back home".

Happens here too when people leave the city for rural areas and moan and whine and b.itch about services, shopping, selections etc etc..