Monday, April 23, 2007
This weekend I read a children’s book that Ben loaned me, called From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, by E.L. Konigsburg. I think it made me somewhat homesick, because I read it on the day that I was missing my brother and my cousin’s college graduation, and it’s about a girl who runs away from and takes her brother with her. Claudia reminded me of myself because she was always bossing around the brother and correcting his grammar, and I could identify with her reason for running away: “to teach her parents a lesson in Claudia appreciation.” Even though sometimes my life feels difficult, I trust I have already been gone long enough to build up a lot of Ellen appreciation and it will be great to get lots of attention when I get back home! At the same time, I have built up a lot of appreciation for all my friends and family back home. Now I am going to write some things that might make my mom nervous and increase her Ellen appreciation even more…
One day I was walking to the grocery store at 9:30 in the morning with a girl named Raquel and her 2 or 3 year old son. As we passed by a ragged-looking man on the street, he slowly rose, mumbling, and drunkenly swung a loose fist at Raquel, tapping her lightly on the head. What was surprising to me was not the violent drunk in the street at that hour of the morning, but the fact that Raquel barely reacted. She calmly picked up her son and continued walking as though this was a common occurrence. I’ve decided that I actually live in a relatively safe and well-to-do neighborhood. My friend was robbed a couple of weeks ago; the thieves took the equivalent of about $4, which isn’t a ton, expect that she didn’t have any money to buy a bus ticket The worst part is that she asked for help and no one would give her money, and she couldn’t report it to the police, they wouldn’t do anything anyways. They say that during the reign of Stroessner from the 60’s to the 80’s there was not very much crime because no one could be out on the street late and the police had a lot of power. My roommate’s comment on the dictatorship was “at that time there were not a lot of thieves, but who was a greater thief than he who ruled?” Another 15-year-old girl told me that once she was held at knife point as some guys took the running shoes off her feet, but she’s not scared to walk alone. I receive a lot of warnings that people will steal my shoes or grab my purse as they get off the bus, or kidnap me because I am so obviously a foreigner. The worst I have suffered so far are drunk men (and sober men) who make rude comments. I don’t think I am in great danger of getting my shoes stolen, since I only wear flip-flops every day! my big fear here is still getting lost; I can get to Oscar and Karen’s by myself, but the bus routes and numbers are still totally confusing to me. I am reminded of the book title Trust in God but Lock Your Car. I know I am probably still a little naive of some of the things that go on even in my neighborhood, but at the same time I don’t want to live in fear. If I were worried about being safe I probably shouldn’t have come here in the first place.
It’s my mom’s birthday on Wednesday. I guess this blog about getting robbed and kidnapped was kind of a terrible birthday present. But in the From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, the kids spend a whole week in New York and never get hurt. I loved this observation on how some mothers are: “…Jonathon Richter’s mother hadn’t let him go for fear he’d get separated from the group in all the jostling that goes on in New York. Mrs. Richter, who was something of a character, had said that she was certain he would ‘come home lost.’” Mom, thanks for raising me to not want expensive shoes that would be tempting to steal, for instilling in me the love of reading, and for appreciating me probably even more than I know!
One day I was walking to the grocery store at 9:30 in the morning with a girl named Raquel and her 2 or 3 year old son. As we passed by a ragged-looking man on the street, he slowly rose, mumbling, and drunkenly swung a loose fist at Raquel, tapping her lightly on the head. What was surprising to me was not the violent drunk in the street at that hour of the morning, but the fact that Raquel barely reacted. She calmly picked up her son and continued walking as though this was a common occurrence. I’ve decided that I actually live in a relatively safe and well-to-do neighborhood. My friend was robbed a couple of weeks ago; the thieves took the equivalent of about $4, which isn’t a ton, expect that she didn’t have any money to buy a bus ticket The worst part is that she asked for help and no one would give her money, and she couldn’t report it to the police, they wouldn’t do anything anyways. They say that during the reign of Stroessner from the 60’s to the 80’s there was not very much crime because no one could be out on the street late and the police had a lot of power. My roommate’s comment on the dictatorship was “at that time there were not a lot of thieves, but who was a greater thief than he who ruled?” Another 15-year-old girl told me that once she was held at knife point as some guys took the running shoes off her feet, but she’s not scared to walk alone. I receive a lot of warnings that people will steal my shoes or grab my purse as they get off the bus, or kidnap me because I am so obviously a foreigner. The worst I have suffered so far are drunk men (and sober men) who make rude comments. I don’t think I am in great danger of getting my shoes stolen, since I only wear flip-flops every day! my big fear here is still getting lost; I can get to Oscar and Karen’s by myself, but the bus routes and numbers are still totally confusing to me. I am reminded of the book title Trust in God but Lock Your Car. I know I am probably still a little naive of some of the things that go on even in my neighborhood, but at the same time I don’t want to live in fear. If I were worried about being safe I probably shouldn’t have come here in the first place.
It’s my mom’s birthday on Wednesday. I guess this blog about getting robbed and kidnapped was kind of a terrible birthday present. But in the From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, the kids spend a whole week in New York and never get hurt. I loved this observation on how some mothers are: “…Jonathon Richter’s mother hadn’t let him go for fear he’d get separated from the group in all the jostling that goes on in New York. Mrs. Richter, who was something of a character, had said that she was certain he would ‘come home lost.’” Mom, thanks for raising me to not want expensive shoes that would be tempting to steal, for instilling in me the love of reading, and for appreciating me probably even more than I know!
# posted by Ellen @ 5:48 PM 
