By pw916
“Do you have a cigarette?” –“No,” I respond.
“Where are you from?” –“Uh oh,” I think.
In the few minutes following, I handed both my cell phone and about fifty dollars over to this man who had, in theory, just wanted a cigarette. I was inconspicuously walking home on a Sunday evening with just a carton of cashew juice in my hands, when a block and a half away from my apartment someone was walking behind my just a little too close for comfort. My mistake was in turning my head to see and initiating eye contact the man who was so close behind me. After indicating he had a weapon tucked in his waistband and me mistaking the gesture to mean that he was hungry, I offered him my carton of juice. Either feeling belittled or mocked (or both), he then forcefully blocked me from walking any further and demanded what I had in my pockets.
Having never been robbed – or even pick-pocketed – before I felt extremely violated and frustrated. I could have been singled out for a variety of reasons: appearing foreign, un-expectant, or maybe just an easy target. Regardless of what triggered the act, I was feeling entirely defeated as I walked the final block and a half to my Copacabana apartment.
This certainly isn't a happy memory of Rio, but it was indeed a major turning point for me and my relationship with the city. As I began to see my surrounding area in a different light, I started to scrupulously examine and question myself: Do I look like I don't belong right now? What about vulnerable? What's my escape plan if someone approaches me? Should I move a little closer to the sidewalk?
This hyper-self-awareness made me reexamine the thought that on the outside I could literally be anyone and have any backstory with me being the only one who knows the whole tale. So, in terms of what this says about me, I think it just reinforces that I am anonymous, and that my anonymity is something that both protects me and puts me at risk in any environment, and especially abroad.