A reflection on being robbed.

A long, LONG time ago, I remember my dad taking my sister and I to a museum in Boston for a day. I had a little purse, I probably didn´t have much in it, but it was mine. We had lunch in a Friendly´s restaurant in the museum (they had these wonderful peanut butter chocolate sundaes), and I left my purse on the seat of the booth when we left. When I realized it was gone we returned, but no one had seen the purse. I remember being sad - how could someone steal a little girl´s purse?

Now I reflect on a new robbery. Yesterday was a day when, as fellow Peace Corps volunteers would say, ¨Panama got me.¨ Everything went wrong. I left Santiago in the morning after attending the Volunteer Advisory Council meeting (that´s fancy talk for an organization like student council) the night before as the new Treasurer-elect. I had work to do to prepare for a Business Plan Seminar that I´m helping to facilitate at the end of next week, so I made a plan to stop off in San Felix, hit up the Internet cafe, do my work quickly and head back up the mountain to home. The first problem was that I didn´t look at the work beforehand, and actually ended up having a lot more to do than I thought. So, after 1 hour at the cafe, I decided to shift gears, print a large document to read on the bus to David, so I could plan, and then spend the night preparing my work in the comforts of the regional capitol.

I went to ask the manager of the cafe to print my document, and found out that he finally hooked up the 6 computers there to the printer so I could do it myself - what this meant is that my jump drive was in and out of my bag, and things were shuffled around, BUT, I know I put it back in my bag on my way out. I then waited for a bus to David. In the meantime, some kids asked me to help them with their English homework (this actually happens a lot), and I tried to offer some advice, and then the bus came.

The ayudante (or pavo, as they are sometimes called, which is a totally funny sidenote since pavo means turkey, but I digress) grabbed my backpack, and put it in through the window of the bus near the back, on a seat. I didn´t think of it until I had a panic attack half way through the ride, wondering if I had my jump drive. I reassured myself that I did, although I probably should have trusted my intuition.

I got to David. I get my hotel room. I look in my bag. No jump drive. Well, not the end of the world, I probably did leave it in the internet cafe, right? And at least we downloaded everything from it onto the computer recently. I called Ben, upset, and left a message. Upon getting it (he´s still out having marvelous adventures in the Darien), he called the internet cafe, they hadn´t seen anything, but the guy who was there was I was wasn´t in at the time.

So, last night I head to another internet cafe to get down to work. I spent hours planning everything out in the hotel, and just had to revise and make up my powerpoint presentation. I could only save my work to the computer, but I could email it to myself right. Wrong. I wasted a lot of time (after working for hours on the presentation) trying to get the huge file to attach to email, and it wouldn´t do it. But, I was at the ¨nice¨ internet cafe, they even sell jump drives, sweet, I´ll just get a new one right? Wrong. They don´t sell them anymore, but they do sell floppy disks. Floppy disks? Do computers even have slots for these anymore? Apparently. So, after another panic attack, and cutting down the presentation to just what I had added and edited, I get it to save, and miracle of miracles, to email.

My next move - some dinner and a beer. What a day it had been. I saw a good friend on the way back into the hotel and got to vent about the day, and then watched movies until 3am. Oops. This morning I get up, I want to shower, but WHERE ARE ALL OF MY TOILETRIES????

Then it hits me. I really was robbed. I should have noticed that my bag was less full when the turkey showed me the bag sitting on the sidewalk after arriving in David. There were people sitting in the back of the bus. Even the turkey himself hung out in the back for a while, so there was definitely an opportunity.

My first instinct is to tear apart my bag again (mind you, this is a small backpack) and even crawl on the floor looking under the bed (did I somehow put them there in my panics yesterday? Oy. I´m sure it was a funny sight).

I was robbed. It´s a little hard to misplace a black rectangular toiletry case. This is the first time I´ve been robbed since that small incident so many years ago. It could have been much MUCH worse. The most valuable item I lost was my prescription medication, but I can get that soon. But the worst part is the feeling. Someone went through my things and took them from me. Hopefully they enjoy my new shampoo, my toothbrush that smells like mold, and that Mach 3 razor that I really did like, and the jump drive. Ugh.

I cried. I probably cried way too much for lost toiletries, but the feeling of violation is the worst. That someone hit me up when I was already having such a frustrating day. That I did what I´ve done on countless bus trips here - hand my bag to someone to be stored - but that this was the time. I´m thankful that they didn´t take my expensive raincoat, any of my clothes, my work documents, and my knitting project that I just started. And I´m thankful that they didn´t take the whole thing. But reflecting on it all... being robbed...being robbed in a foreign country, when you´re by yourself...really sucks.