This is one thing that seems odd about the movie and that struck me already as odd when I watched it the first time: the three pilgrims, while chasing after the boy, enter a courtyard that to me looks as Spanish as they come and both the Dutch and the Irish pilgrim claim immediately that "gypsies live here". Huh??? Whatever Emilio Estevez wants to narrate here ... that looks like a major fail to me.
I understand why people find this scene odd. I must admit, though, that when I first watched the movie, I drank it in unquestioningly.
In retrospect, I see that the grab and dash of a backpack is a bit unrealistic. I guess it's a necessary piece of dramatic license. A gang of professional thieves pilfering cell phones and wallets from an albergue dormitory might have been truer to life, but it would not have advanced the plot.
I also find Joost's prediction that the police will be of no help because they "hate gypsies" rather jarring. That's somewhat sloppy writing. I think it might have been better if he'd told Tom that the police are unlikely to get him the ashes back. It's a low value crime. The chance of retrieving anything is slim to nothing and the police may feel that it's just a matter for insurance. That is a sentiment that I have heard quite often - and I myself have had the experience of a police officer who preferred to ignore evidence of a crime than to deal with it.
What I don't find unrealistic is the quick and confident (and prejudiced) assumption that the kid has led them to a gypsy neighborhood. I've heard too many prejudiced comments and blame for crimes laid against "tinkers," "travelers," "gypsies," "gitanes," in countries all over Europe to know that anti-Romani discrimination is commonplace - even among otherwise enlightened people. In the event that a scruffy kid steals something and escapes to a scruffy part of town, it strikes me as quite believable that some people will immediately label the kid and the neighborhood as "other" - and "other" is often "gypsy."
I had my own encounter with gypsies and anti-gypsy prejudice during my first camino. It wasn't very cinematic and I didn't think of the parallel with the movie until now, but I'll share the story here:
It was a searingly hot afternoon when I arrived at a dusty, Extremaduran town where my companion - an older, European pilgrim - had identified a hostal with a pilgrim discount. In the scruffy outskirts, near the grain silos and the tractor repair shops, we walked past a row of low, white cottages that turned out to be a gypsy neighborhood. Some kids ran out into the road to say hello in English to me. They imitated my exhausted gait and chattered at me, excitedly. Their mothers and big sisters came to the doorways to see what the spectacle was. One of the women shouted out to me and beckoned me to her home, but my walking companion hissed a warning to me "Steer clear of the gypsies buddy. If you stop, before you know it you'll be drinking wine, singing songs, and dancing with a beautiful girl, and sometime tomorrow you'll notice that your wallet is missing." It was only then that the scene was unlocked for me - the darker complexions, the old-fashioned dresses, the modest houses, the indecipherable dialect were the indications of a gypsy community. Not a touristic gypsy community like the flamenco bars of Sacromonte, Granada. A down-to-earth, just getting by, working on the farms, culturally distinct, proud, friendly gypsy community.
I smiled and said hello to the kids, and waved at the women. We exchanged a few words. They wanted to know where I was from and they were pleased when I told them, but I continued to match the pace of my companion who was striding at a purposeful angle toward the plaza. I hope that they weren't offended by this, but I wouldn't blame them if they were. I sometimes wonder what experience we might have had if we had stopped. At the least, I think they would have offered us something to quench our thirst. It's possible that they might have had a room to offer us for the night. I would rather have made a donation to them than spending my money at the mediocre hostal where we ended up. If we had been exceptionally lucky, we might have enjoyed food, music, and conversation with them. I think it's unlikely that any harm would have come to us.