Peace, Love, and Lutefisk: Adventures i Norge

My stomach and head are turning as I am struggling to adjust from a life of rice and beans to a life of steak. In the span of 18 hours on Sunday, my experience in Nicaragua was tainted and ended as I returned home to the US.

The story begins Sunday. I had spent the first four days of my time in Nicaragua just staying in the same four block radius around the church and was anxious to get out a see a little bit of the town. After going to the church service Sunday morning, I headed to the old downtown area of Managua with my guide Rachel who had been in Nicaragua for 10 months. We saw the old downtown area that was ravaged by the earthquake in 1972. There have been a few new buildings, but for the most part, the area is a reminder of the glory of Managua that was destroyed in 1972. Thousands of people were killed in the quake and the entire neighborhood destroyed. Money flowed into the country to help rebuild, but instead of using the money for rebuilding, the government pocketed the money. This extreme corruption eventually led to the revolution, but rebuilding never really took place, making Managua an unplanned city, with no central area, that snakes in all directions.

Well, Rachel and I were looking at the old cathedral and were walking 200 meters to the Park of Peace where the President in the 90's buried tons of weapons and tanks in a demonstration of the country moving away from violence. Ironic. I thought it would be a great park to check out for a peace student! I asked Rachel a few times if it was safe to walk there and she said it was fine and that she had done in multiple times. So we started walking. We took a right turn on a small street that was only 50 meters long. As we started walking, two young men about 16 years old walked around the corner. They were walking together and as they got closer one started to walk wide of us. I felt the pit in my stomach and knew what was coming. Soon, they made a dash at us, pulling out a 12 inch machete. They first went at Rachel demanding her bag and threatening with the knife. I think I could have made a dash for it and gotten away, but instead I stood there talking her through it calmly. Much too calmly. I told her just to relax and give them what they wanted. Then they came over to me and wanted money, which I stupidly had not put in my outside pocket. I should have learned that from the last time I was mugged! But, since I couldn't easily hand them money, they found my money belt and ripped it off and then found my camera hidden in a side pocket and took that. Then they ran into a taxi that was waiting for them and drove off. Numerous people were immediately there to help us and even got the number of the taxi and the license plate number. A nice man and his family in a truck gave us a ride to the police station for free.

We gave the report to the police and had to deal with the slow, apathetic response from the police. They drove us back to the scene of the crime with two other people that had been mugged only minutes after us on the other side of the Park of Peace. They made us stand in the place where the crime happened, and since none of the roads in Managua are labeled, they had to draw a small map on a peace of paper to show where it happened. After we showed where the crime happened, we went to the place where the other couple in the police car had been mugged. That was freaky. They drove us to the other side of the Park of Peace where one of the skyscrapers had collapsed during the 1972 earthquake. Instead of demolishing the ruins however, the cement remains stayed, and now people live in the cracks and crevasses left standing, often putting up a plastic sheet over a crack in the cement in order to make themselves a home. I was happy to leave as that neighborhood was one of the scariest I have ever seen in terms of safety for me and the people living there.

Well, we finally took a taxi back after telling the police that we did not want to look at their mug shots of "criminals." We got back to the place I was staying and made some phone calls to cancel credit cards and tell our parents. The whole incident was odd. It felt very methodical to me and almost like I knew that it would happen. It brought back a lot of memories of getting mugged (much more violently) in South Africa, and it was strange to be in the police station and to tell Rachel how we should fill out the police report for insurance. I just knew way too much of what to do both during and after the mugging. This time, in contrast to the experience in South Africa, I wasn't angry. In SA, I even ran after the robbers because I was so upset and frustrated, but this time it just felt normal...and I didn't like that feeling.

I sat in my room for a while thinking about it and realized that I felt that it could happen again. I was planning on traveling to Granada and know I probably would have been safe going to other areas of the country that everyone admits are more beautiful and safer than Managua, but I also know I would have had to come back to Managua to do my research and interviews. I couldn't justify just being in Nicaragua to go to the beautiful parts and not do what I came to do...and I also didn't want to deal with worrying about safety or giving up my freedom and staying only in a small neighborhood to have that safety. So, after a little meditating on it, I called my parents and had them change my ticket home. So, 170 dollars later (surprisingly cheap) and only 18 hours later, I was on the 1pm flight home from Managua, arriving home at 3am on the fourth of July. Back in America on America Day. Who would have thought?

Now I'm left to wonder if it was the right decision and what to do now. I hate the decision in one way because it feels like a cop out. I know that I could have survived and been fine, but I really didn't want to just be fine. I think I would have been frustrated not only thinking often about safety, but more so feeling confined to a small neighborhood. I think I also felt after being there that the research would not have been as fruitful as I had hoped. The church does really great things and does them quite well. The church also has support from a variety of sources, and it would have been difficult to measure the effectiveness of a South Dakota program because most people who benefit from the church benefit from the work of multiple donors and workers. Who knows, maybe the mugging was merely the push that I needed to reassess and refine my research. I hope so at least.

In terms of dealing with what happened, I am fine physically. Nothing happened, but of course it sticks in your mind. More so for me, it has brought out memories of being mugged in South Africa which was a traumatic experience that I had hoped to kind of forget. Now, I'm home which is comforting. It's great to sit outside and talk and eat with the family, but I also know that I need to figure out my next move and won't be satisfied letting my experience in Nicaragua confine me here as well. We'll see what happens.

So that's that. Nicaragua feels almost like a dream. I was there just under a week and only saw the worst parts of the country. I am frustrated I couldn't solidify my Spanish and get an accurate picture of the country, but I am glad I got to meet the people of the church and see what good things are happening there. I hope that Rachel is able to deal with the experience. I feel bad leaving her and the people at the church, but I felt the pit in my stomach that was telling me that I had to go. I didn't listen to it and the mugging happened, so I figured that now I should listen to it. Who knows, maybe I'm just hungry.

Well, be safe everyone, especially all those peaceful friends in the far corners of the world. I hope you can all successfully arrive at the Park of Peace.