Mugged

So, yesterday for the holiday the plan was to get a haircut, maybe grab some wine at Foodworth’s, maybe have some lunch at Cloud’s, and hit the forex to stock up on cash before heading home. I thought about bringing my laptop along for the trip, since Cloud’s allegedly has a wifi hotspot, but I decided it was too heavy.

Thank goodness.

Right behind the friggin buildings with the hair salon and Foodworth’s, some guy jacked my purse. I was coming off a dirt road onto the street, and he was coming up the street. I was in front of him, and he just grabbed the bag from behind. I had a good grip on it and made a strong showing in tug of war, but he had a knife, so he wins. (As Am joked, if you were packing heat you’d be the winner!). He actually got me in the arm a tiny bit with the blade (the size of a big paper cut), and a have a belly bruise where he grazed me as a threat to get me to back off. Once he took off, I ran after him hollering; he made like he was coming back at me to get me to knock off, but people started coming out and he ran away. He actually dropped the knife at one point as he ran, and I thought maybe he was going to ditch the weapon, but he picked it up as he ran away. Or maybe he thought I’d grab it and come after him (not unlikely, I was pretty determined to do what I could to get my stuff back). A really impressive number of guys from the surrounding buildings took off after the guy in response to my shouts, but apparently he disappeared into the bushes. Damn bushes. The number of people responding certainly made me feel more assured that this was a really crazy broad daylight semi-busy area to mug someone. It’s just too bad no one caught him.

A man directed me to the police station, but I was intercepted by a café owner whose men were working on the wall and had been some of those giving chase. He got me some water and a cappuccino (just the thing for frazzled nerves!), and a woman from the embassy, EP, was there having lunch with her daughter. She called up the embassy and had a colleague come over with some paperwork for the passport (of which I have a photocopy, so new one will be easier to obtain), and then we went to the police station to file a report.

Filing the police report was actually sort of hilarious. The “station” was basically a tiny room with some chairs and a desk. The constable clearly took his role very seriously, and kept tapping his papers on the desk to line them up in a very official way. His papers consisted of blank paper on which he wrote my statement. When he saw the cut on my arm, he declared that I had to go to the hospital so that a medical report could be included. EP insisted that this was not going to happen and that someone at the embassy clinic would look at it Wednesday. So he had one of the other officers write up a sheet for the doctor, which reads, “The above named person has been unlawfully wounded by unknown criminals. Therefore I refer her to your good office for both treatment and examination. Thereafter furnish us with your findings.” Hilarious. I have to wonder what kind of kinky shit they’re allowing for in the “lawfully wounded” section.

After the police station, we headed to the embassy. EP’s daughter got a nosebleed, so we were in an extra hurry. Of course, once we got to the gate the incompetent security guards were in no such hurry to let us in, and wanted my paperwork. EP explained that I’d just been robbed and didn’t have a passport and that her daughter was bleeding and could he please just let us in. Then he said he’d have to ask his supervisor, but the supervisor was off under a tree somewhere and there was no reception officer in the little office, and EP totally flipped out on the guys until they let us in. Once we got in she was all, “Fucking morons!” It was so refreshing to hear someone yell and curse after three weeks in this passive aggressive country. Once inside we called K, who I figured would be at the office and she was, and she came to get me.

At the office I made various phone calls and checked my email and generally tried to take care of some basic details. On the whole, I lost: 1) My wallet with all my credit and ATM cards along with my drivers license and about $100 in kwachas and USD combined. Although the guy will have to dig for the USD, so if I happed to get the wallet back it might still be there. AND also my awesome photos from G that I’ve transferred to new wallets for ages. 2) My passport, which will be easily replaced. 3) My checkbook, which sucks for now because I can’t use the money bureau, but I can exchange US cash that K has locked away at her house plus the office can front me some funds for the research stuff. I also have some kwacha locked up at work from my money runs this week. Joe is going to retrieve the next book from my house and put it in the Friday DHL package from the Baltimore office, so I’ll be back in business soon enough. 4) The cell phone Kirsten was lending me, meaning no calls from Joe or anyone else at home until I find a replacement. 5) My camera, which at least didn’t have any photos on it, but it sucks a lot that it’s gone and I can’t upload any more photos while I’m here… I might be able to find some disposables to at least take some photos. 6) Last, but absolutely the worst, my glasses, since I was wearing my sunglasses and therefore had my glasses in my purse. Joe can send my backup pair from home, and there are apparently some Germans here who can make some more if I need. But, I haven’t even paid for those glasses yet! (Some crazy 6 month interest free card thing).

So, none of this is the end of the world, unlike if my laptop had been stolen. Although he probably wouldn’t have gotten away so fast because that bag is mega heavy. I also have been making sure to keep my hotel key in my pocket should something like this happen. Thank goodness also that I hadn’t decided to visit the money bureau first. And, of course, that nothing really bad happened to me. It just fucking sucks.

After the office, K took me to get some late lunch/early dinner at Mama Mia’s. I had penne with a really hot tomato sauce, which made me feel better. Then we went to her house and she checked the cut on my arm, peroxided and antiseptic creamed it (I got a black cat band-aid… yay kids’ band-aids!), and then gave me some bubble bath and movies to take home.

I felt a lot better after a few hours than right after it happened. If someone had offered me a plane ticket home and a ride to the airport right after it happened, I’d be on my way home right now. I was already feeling homesick, and this was just not what I needed. But, after a few hours I was feeling like I had a handle on replacing the stuff I really need to replace and managing without the rest. I’m leery of the travel to and from work with my laptop bag now, but those times of day are also much busier. Unfortunately, I think I was more vulnerable today because of the holiday making the streets a bit emptier than they normally would be; all the expats I talked to today were pretty surprised about where and when it happened. It’s also just completely unlucky that I’ve lived in a totally dangerous city for nearly three years with no incident (never mind Boston also), and I happen to get robbed here. Sadly, I think I know why expats don’t walk around the city, because white folks are really much more of target.

So, I probably won’t be doing much wandering on the weekends anymore, and will probably make use of a taxi or minibus if I’m feeling restless. I think I can learn to appreciate the simple pleasures of lounging around my room with magazines and books and movies.

Once I got home I wrote a few of these notes, which I think was helpful. I took a hot bath with some grapefruit scent in it. It made the bath kind of look like bright pee, but it smelled a lot better and was nice. Then I broke out iTunes and listened to lots of music that made me feel better in ways both cheerful and aggressive, such as that song from the Office Space soundtrack when they’re smashing the printer. I love that song. Anyway, I realized one thing I can do to occupy myself is to make playlists, since I have virtually none, and they’re necessary for road trip iPodding.

K’s husband said that it was important to compartmentalize the experience, not to deny it happened, but to not really let it into my life. He’s really right, in a way. It was just like a bad dream, and though it was scary and freaks me out, it’s not more affecting to my life than most other things. It’s mostly a hassle, but I’m no more or less safe because of it. It feels more personal due to the level of assault involved, but the robber had no interest in hurting me, just taking my stuff and threatening me enough to be successful at it.

It’s really a shame also that there are people like this who damage the reputation of places like this one, where the vast majority of people are dirt poor and yet strongly frown on this sort of behavior and do what they can to stop it when given the chance.

All right, off to wade through a few more emails and head off to the embassy.