What was I thinking of? O.K. The moment before that guy mugged me, actually I was thinking about how lovely Spain is. However, ironically it turned out to be the only robbery I have ever experienced in my travel life. In case you want to know, I have so far been to 14 countries, some of which sound dangerous.
So how did it exactly happen? I wandered down the street, just checking around this city after I came back from a long trip to Barcelona and Grenoble . After a satisfying buffet lunch, I walked on a crowded street at 2: 30 in the afternoon, trying to find this internet place last time I went when I was in Madrid . I looked at the packed street and thought “God! I love Spain .” And then it happened. A guy came from my back, snatched the waist bag under my unzipped Gore Tex jacket, and tried to pull it away. How could it possible be? I mean, I had so many clothes on so that I could barely take this tight waist bag off every night when I went back to the hotel I was staying. Now when I think back, I realized that I needn’t have struggled with him.
However, at that time, I did cover my bag instinctly with both hands. Accompany that, a high-pitched screaming burst out and the bad guy panicked. Am I one of those psychotic ladies that can do nothing but only crying? Of course I am not. This scary howling was, surely, not from me. Its origin was a lady across from the street carrying her groceries. She saw it happening, well I guess, before I did, and even learned what’s going on also before I did. I was just quietly and gracefully putting my both hands on the waist bag.
Thanks to this nice lady. Of course, until now I don’t even know she was trying to help or she didn’t mean it, she was just purely releasing her fear. Anyways, we struggled for only five seconds and he ran away. I ran after him, which was considered a silly reaction afterwards, until the next turn where he disappeared. I stood there, realizing that I didn’t see his face at all for all of this happened and ended so quickly. Looking around, I felt that every male looked all very suspicious now. I turned back and didn’t know which lady was the one who, intently or accidentally, helped me. But it was not too difficult. There was a lady keeping a loud volume so that there was no way I could miss her. Now she was still standing at where she was, calmed a little bit, but yelling something in Spanish that I did not understand a word.
The only Spanish I could speak was “Gracias”. I yelled this word back to her and she got encouraged. She kept saying a lot of things that I would never understand even she rose her voice. (When facing foreigners, most people do this because they have an illusion that this will make the foreigners understand what they are trying to say.) I continued my journey but EVERYBODY started to look fishy. All passers-by now were potential criminals for…, well, one long afternoon and that night. The next morning I woke up with that same pleasant thought that I was happy to be there in Spain . That’s me. Seems that I have never learned, have I?
So how did it exactly happen? I wandered down the street, just checking around this city after I came back from a long trip to Barcelona and Grenoble . After a satisfying buffet lunch, I walked on a crowded street at 2: 30 in the afternoon, trying to find this internet place last time I went when I was in Madrid . I looked at the packed street and thought “God! I love Spain .” And then it happened. A guy came from my back, snatched the waist bag under my unzipped Gore Tex jacket, and tried to pull it away. How could it possible be? I mean, I had so many clothes on so that I could barely take this tight waist bag off every night when I went back to the hotel I was staying. Now when I think back, I realized that I needn’t have struggled with him.
However, at that time, I did cover my bag instinctly with both hands. Accompany that, a high-pitched screaming burst out and the bad guy panicked. Am I one of those psychotic ladies that can do nothing but only crying? Of course I am not. This scary howling was, surely, not from me. Its origin was a lady across from the street carrying her groceries. She saw it happening, well I guess, before I did, and even learned what’s going on also before I did. I was just quietly and gracefully putting my both hands on the waist bag.
Thanks to this nice lady. Of course, until now I don’t even know she was trying to help or she didn’t mean it, she was just purely releasing her fear. Anyways, we struggled for only five seconds and he ran away. I ran after him, which was considered a silly reaction afterwards, until the next turn where he disappeared. I stood there, realizing that I didn’t see his face at all for all of this happened and ended so quickly. Looking around, I felt that every male looked all very suspicious now. I turned back and didn’t know which lady was the one who, intently or accidentally, helped me. But it was not too difficult. There was a lady keeping a loud volume so that there was no way I could miss her. Now she was still standing at where she was, calmed a little bit, but yelling something in Spanish that I did not understand a word.
The only Spanish I could speak was “Gracias”. I yelled this word back to her and she got encouraged. She kept saying a lot of things that I would never understand even she rose her voice. (When facing foreigners, most people do this because they have an illusion that this will make the foreigners understand what they are trying to say.) I continued my journey but EVERYBODY started to look fishy. All passers-by now were potential criminals for…, well, one long afternoon and that night. The next morning I woke up with that same pleasant thought that I was happy to be there in Spain . That’s me. Seems that I have never learned, have I?
2 comments:
Did he actually make off with something? Passport/money? Or just your sense of security (which you seem to have regained the next morning)?
No. The only thing I lost was the sense of security, which came back the next morning. I usually don't have any valuables with me while traveling, except the camera I am carrying with. When now I think back, it was a fun experience, wasn't it?
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