Don´t You Even Try to Rob Me

April 4th, 2007 Chiclayo, Peru

Nice Try Buddy

I headed down to Chiclayo (the regional city know as the capital of Amistad which means Friendship) to meet with a NGO about providing technical assistance to the duck raising project. Later I dropped off my suitcase at the bus station, which I would take to Lima later that night. I was walking on the street with my backpack when suddenly I felt it opened. I swung it off one shoulder to find that the little pocket had been opened.

Now that I was more vulnerable, the guy next to me attempted to jerk it off the remaining shoulder. I jerked it back with my left arm while simultaneously punching him in the arm with my right hand. I proceeded to close the zipper and dashed off. I still didn’t know if he had stolen something from the little pocked so I began chasing him. The first thing I yelled was, “Stop that man.” Then I realized no one speaks English. I continued to chase him for 3 blocks and heard things like help that gentleman.

Eventually after 3 blocks I realized I would never catch him with this 20 pound bag and Sketchers on. At one point, I began to hand my bag to an old woman but decided to trust no one. So I stopped and took off my bag to examine what was missing. Just as I decided nothing was missing, a woman came around the corner and was motioning me to come fast. I turned the corner to find the police with the perpetrator on the ground. They asked me to identify him and started to put me in the back of the truck with him until I made a face of utter confusion and they placed me in the front of the truck.

“What happened?”

“Well, I was walking when this friend, no, this asshole tried…….”

“You hear that. That’s right. You are an asshole.” The police begin to beat him in the stomach.

“Where you from?”

“I am from the States but I work in Piura”

“And you are here in Chiclayo visiting friends?”

“Yeah. My friends tell me supposedly this is the Capital of Amistad.”

“You´re right. This is the Capital of Amistad. You have no respect.” As they once again begin to punch him in the side and the stomach and rough around with his hair and neck.

Finally, we get to the police station and they ask me to fill out a denunciation. I have a bus at 8pm and its 6pm. For the next hour and a half I sit around and fill out a couple of denunciations. I felt like I was getting punished because it meant I was going to have to skip dinner and a much needed stiff drink. Finally, they tell me I can go and bring the perpetrator out of the closet and sit him down. They ask me if there is anything I would like to say or perhaps if I would like to hit him. This scrawny little 18 year old begins to beg for mercy. I meant to reply, “I’ll let God have his vengeance.” But lost in translation was “I’ll let God have his revenge.”

I just hope next time I am wearing my sneakers and my bag weighs 2 pounds because I’ll beat the crap out of some little scrawny 18 year old kid if he even tries to steal a piece of gum out of my bag.