It’s a sparkling, shiny day in Lima! Finally! Late afternoon sunlight is pouring into my fourth floor apartment, over the ocean outside, through my windows and onto the comfy red couch, warming me as I am sipping iced tea and am working on my laptop.
From where I am, the world below seems far away…but in a few short moments, I’ll tuck away the laptop and prepare myself to head into the street. There, I’ll make sure to keep most of my money in an inside pocket in my coat, and will likely not bring my laptop with me unless I’m going somewhere close and safe. If it’s after 10 or 11, I’ll evaluate the safety of taking public transportation versus taxis: the potential of getting robbed in the bus versus the potential of getting kidnapped in the taxi. And if I take the taxi, I’ll only choose one with appropriate markings, ideally with the driver’s ID card hanging from the rearview mirror. Upon entering, I’ll be sure to place my bag on the floor underneath my knees, where a would-be thief couldn’t snatch it by breaking the window.
Sometimes, I’ll head out and wonder if I’m just being paranoid… and then will remember that even in the n of 3 past fellows in my program in Lima, some of the above situations have occurred, though, thankfully, not the kidnapping (theft from bag in lap in taxi, theft of locked laptop in a coffeeshop).
Despite all of that, by now, most of the rituals are second nature and not things I actively worry about here in Lima, even if I do take precautions and try to stay aware. It’s a routine that only really strikes me when particularly cooped up feeling at home, or on days when I receive emails such as the yesterday’s from a friend in another Latin American country:
Sooo, friend robbed at knife point at 5 pm today. Not cool. Did you deal with this? Saw a another friend robbed [without a weapon] in my first two weeks which has resulted in tachycardia everytime a motorcycle pulls up beside me (yes every 5 min). I have dealt. But now? I don’t know. I’m disturbed. Can’t be too careful. Can’t be careful enough. Don’t know why they aren’t coming for me, but I have diverted attention x 2.
Similarly, a recent IM conversation with a friend in a rural area of another country included a comment on her recent understanding of how easy it would be for her to be kidnapped, as the only racially different person in her entire community.
I’ll never forget walking with a friend who had been robbed at knife point on a certain street several years earlier, and watching his face as he somewhat relived the experience as we walked down it again. It’s not that I felt particularly terrified in the bright, daytime sun as we sped-walked down the street, but that the fear of the experience in his expression will stay with me forever. He wasn’t going to stay in that city to work (I was), but even still it made me wonder a little about if I (who have been incredibly lucky thus far in my work both in the U.S. and out) took the threat of actually going through such a traumatic experience seriously enough…
I know it makes a lot of you wonder why those who go to these places want to do so, given the threats to our personal safety. Is it stupid, reckless, self-centered or egotistical?
Ultimately, though, the decision to go despite the risks (or return after the traumas) is the same as most things: the work we will do is worth it– and this is a judgment not to be delivered without thought. Some of us are adventure junkies, it’s true, but I think most of us love the people in our lives enough to consider the reality of situations and whether or not we really might be able to contribute.
More importantly, I think, more often than not, we are infinitely safer than those with whom we’re working. While this isn’t true, say, for kidnapping risks to my friend who stands out in her village because of her race as her race/origin is precisely her point of vulnerability, it is true in that she is less likely to be the victim of more day-to-day crimes (and I suppose I do mean that in the broader sense of having her rights violated).
It is also true that we have incredible luxuries, even beyond simply having the money to even consider taking taxis and living in safe buildings, the protection of the US Embassy/possibility of evacuation (think Cambodia or Rwanda), or even that the protective guidance offered to us by those with whom we’re working (who will often insist we take precautions they themselves wouldn’t take because of our foreign status). In the end, while these all offer some protection, none will save us from absolute risk, or from even the more common perils of traffic accidents or infectious diseases.* What we do have that is most meaningful, however, is the incredible possibility of leaving whenever it is too much for us. And even when the awful awful things have already happened, I think that is a powerful thing. In fact, it might be the thing that makes it easiest to take the risks: knowing that no matter what fate might have in store for us in this place, it’s generally only comparable at worst to the risks faced by so many others on a daily basis.
*My mother’s interpretation is the one I prefer: minimize risks and losses, but ultimately there’s not much to do besides living one’s life and accepting one’s fate. I would also add that learning to trust one’s intuition is also helpful. With that, I’ll close this laptop and will head down into the beautiful day in the city below…
This post is mostly a draft, as I try to comply with the spirit of nablopomo of getting the writing out there, even if it’s not quite done… will try to work on it in the future….thoughts welcome
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