Yesterday I was wondering what I should write a blog about; if I should write about Uncle Ruco and his uncanny resemblance to both Lionel Richie and a pornstar with his handlebar mustache and jerry curl, or if I should have written about Aunt Isa, who at 39 still can’t read and write and has her children do her “ literacy homework” for her. I was really debating. Until yesterday afternoon.
Yesterday I went into Tumbes to celebrate Sarah’s 26th birthday. Sarah is one of the two older volunteers here in Tumbes and is finishing her service this October. Lucky bitch. So we were all supposed to meet up for her birthday to get dinner or something.
On my way into town, I drive past a wide open, hilly space of land that’s just labeled“ police property” although I’m not really sure what that means since everyone just dumps and burns their trash there. However yesterday there had been a mototaxi(basically a motorcycle with a hatch on the back to carry people around in) stopped on the side of the road and an older man sitting on the ground next to it. Of course my car stopped and found out that he had just been robbed by the man he was driving and the man was trying to steal his moto. By the luck of God (and I mean like lottery-style luck), a police truck happened to be driving by and deduced what happened. Three policemen ran after the robber (or choro as we call them) and caught him and he was running off into the trash-filled hills. By the time my car got to the scene the man had just been tackled.
We proceeded to stop the car and watch for five minutes as the thief was beaten with three billy clubs and being kicked in the face and punched simultaneously. Having lived in a sheltered area and only traveled through Southeast D.C. and Gary, Indiana with my windows up and my car doors locked- I had never seen anything happen like this before. Nor did I think that this type of punishment happened. Of course I knew it went on in Peru, but I had never seen in up close. It was one of those things that you didn’t want to watch but for some reason you coulndn’t look away. I only looked away when I saw the man’s limp body being shoved into the police truck- undoubtedly going to jail.
When I came home last night, I told my family. My sister said it was good that he got beaten up the way he did and I wasn’t sure if I agreed. I mean of course this guy was bad- he was robbing an elderly man at either knife or gunpoint- but watching him get repeatedly kicked in the face didn’t make me feel any better.
But that stuff is normal here. I don’t think I’ve ever written about how rough Tumbes is, but that stuff happens daily. My own host cousin is in jail for shooting a man point blank in the face to steal his mototaxi, which is worth maybe fifteen hundred dollars. Did I mention he was 17 when he did it? Did I also mention he was from a respectable, pretty well-to-do family? Walking around at night in the city is not an option and I always carry mace in my hand. I was telling a nurse from my annex town that in the states I was shocked when my mom left her car doors unlocked when she went into the grocery because in this part of town, that car would be gone in less than a minute.
And it’s not just cars but ANYTHING. Up to a 50 cent drink that I bought for a bus ride and set aside. But that’s the way it is I guess.
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