Robbed!... Again?!?

This has got to be a joke. This is the fourth time (that I know of) since February that I’ve been robbed in this country, but this time, I don’t know when it happened or who it was.

I guess I’m just too trusting of people. I let them into my house, give them coffee and food, listen to them talk about the rain, the work, the lucha (struggle)… and I should have learned by now that leaving my wallet out is not a good idea. One of the problems is that I am not used to having to be so vigilant with my things especially with the people I trust. Every person that has been in my house the past 2 days (which is when the incident happened) has been someone who I trust and who I thought I had confianza with. I guess no matter what amount of trust I have with these people, in their eyes, I am still an American with money.

I have to find a good hiding place for my valuables, but it is sometimes tough in this one-room, tiny house. Many PCVs have a rule that people can’t come into their bedrooms and they just keep their valuables in there. Unfortunately, my bedroom is my living room which is my kitchen and my dining room… so it’s somewhat difficult for me to rope off a place (maybe a corner?) in the house from these people and someone with sticky fingers knows that and took full advantage of it by swiping my wallet.

Anyway, luckily we only have one week left of September, which means I’ve spent most of my monthly stipend. Unfortunately, the ladron took all the money I have left for the rest of the month. Gracias a Dios, I still have some pocket change which will buy me a few eggs and some bread.

The part that sucks the most about this is not the money (in fact, Peace Corps will probably help me out if I need it); it’s the feeling of being violated in my own house by someone that I know and trust. This happened to Rita (my good friend here from Spain) a couple of years ago. Someone broke into her house and stole all her valuables. It was someone who knew exactly where she hid everything (a friend who had to have visited her a few times) and since she never found out who it was, it’s someone who she still greets on the street and treats as a friend and probably has over to her house. Though on smaller scale, that is what’s going to happen for me. One of my “friends” will continue to be “friend” and might even be invited back over for coffee or a chat or one of my delicious meals (mac ‘n’ cheese, anyone?)… and I will just have to be creative about keeping my things away from those sticky fingers. Or maybe from now on I will just tell everyone that Peace Corps is tired of me getting robbed and told me that I can’t have people in my house anymore. Think they’ll buy it?


Bienvenida to your second year here, Tarita! It’s a great start. What would another year in the Peace Corps be without a little bit of drama anyway?

Cheers!