Yesterday I had a
love hate relationship with Rio.
One cant deny the beauty of this city and the kindness of its people, but after a trip to the city police station last night I felt like nothing more than jumping on a plane home.
After days and various trips we finally sorted out all the paperwork needed for Bea´s insurance and headed to the police station to report the incident. We were sat waiting for over an hour and the people coming in all had depressing stories; a young student who had had been robbed at gun point, another man who had been robbed at gun point in broad daylight outside the airport, another man who had been forced at gun point to draw money out of his account etc. etc. These were the just the victims. I then saw three young adolescents brought in and one cop shout to the other if they had the bags of cocaine. These boys were no more than 16 years old.
Then came the interview. The man treated me like I was a complete idiot. He asked Bea if I speak Portuguese to which I myself replied yes, yet he continued to ask her questions about me...even though I continued to answer them! He then, upon inspecting my drivers license, started questioning me with a tone that was really starting to irritate me about if I was a member of the church and if my drivers license was in fact not official I.D but church I.d. I was almost laughing at how ridiculous these questions were when he said, as though he had full proof I was a liar...well why does it say "miss" here then? Whilst this imbecile had clearly thought it was miss for missionary I explained it was in actual fact because I am yet to find the Spaniard of my dreams to marry. Ok,, well maybe not in those exact words.
We were made to look through a book full of suspects with words like 'homicide', bank robbery´, mugging´ all written on them. I felt sick looking at it. So many very young faces. I also felt sick when Bea explained about the tissue incident and the policeman´s reaction of "Jesus" making me thank God once more.
Nearly three hours later we finally left. I had plans to meet friends but I just didn't have any desire to party, I just wanted to go home. This was further reinforced when we were walking to a place nearby and got scared to walk down a road as there looked to be a few dodgy people. This nervousness was added to even more when we asked someone for directions and he said you can go that way but it´s a bit dangerous. I know Rio is dangerous in general but when someone specifically says that way is a bit dangerous its a risk I'd rather not take. We gave up and just got the bus home. The whole way I couldn´t help feeling how I both love and hate this city.
Today I plan to go to the city to rekindle my love and get over my fear. I don´t want to be scared of this place and I want to enjoy the time I have here. I also recognize that being in that police station was like being in a hospital - being confronted with things you wouldn't t normally be as conscious of. I want to believe that the other night was just wrong place, wrong time.
One cant deny the beauty of this city and the kindness of its people, but after a trip to the city police station last night I felt like nothing more than jumping on a plane home.
After days and various trips we finally sorted out all the paperwork needed for Bea´s insurance and headed to the police station to report the incident. We were sat waiting for over an hour and the people coming in all had depressing stories; a young student who had had been robbed at gun point, another man who had been robbed at gun point in broad daylight outside the airport, another man who had been forced at gun point to draw money out of his account etc. etc. These were the just the victims. I then saw three young adolescents brought in and one cop shout to the other if they had the bags of cocaine. These boys were no more than 16 years old.
Then came the interview. The man treated me like I was a complete idiot. He asked Bea if I speak Portuguese to which I myself replied yes, yet he continued to ask her questions about me...even though I continued to answer them! He then, upon inspecting my drivers license, started questioning me with a tone that was really starting to irritate me about if I was a member of the church and if my drivers license was in fact not official I.D but church I.d. I was almost laughing at how ridiculous these questions were when he said, as though he had full proof I was a liar...well why does it say "miss" here then? Whilst this imbecile had clearly thought it was miss for missionary I explained it was in actual fact because I am yet to find the Spaniard of my dreams to marry. Ok,, well maybe not in those exact words.
We were made to look through a book full of suspects with words like 'homicide', bank robbery´, mugging´ all written on them. I felt sick looking at it. So many very young faces. I also felt sick when Bea explained about the tissue incident and the policeman´s reaction of "Jesus" making me thank God once more.
Nearly three hours later we finally left. I had plans to meet friends but I just didn't have any desire to party, I just wanted to go home. This was further reinforced when we were walking to a place nearby and got scared to walk down a road as there looked to be a few dodgy people. This nervousness was added to even more when we asked someone for directions and he said you can go that way but it´s a bit dangerous. I know Rio is dangerous in general but when someone specifically says that way is a bit dangerous its a risk I'd rather not take. We gave up and just got the bus home. The whole way I couldn´t help feeling how I both love and hate this city.
Today I plan to go to the city to rekindle my love and get over my fear. I don´t want to be scared of this place and I want to enjoy the time I have here. I also recognize that being in that police station was like being in a hospital - being confronted with things you wouldn't t normally be as conscious of. I want to believe that the other night was just wrong place, wrong time.
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