Sunday, February 13, 2011

Safe Within These Walls

I am an American. I am a woman. I am young. I travel in packs, especially at night. I am aware of my surroundings. I am not stupid, but that is not enough.

Observatory, the suburb that I am living in, is a Bohemian neighborhood populated by international students, most of whom are going to school at University of Cape Town. As foreigners, we are known for being easy targets when it comes to muggings and house robberies. Because of this, the area is a magnet for people looking to take advantage of you, steal from you, and in some cases even hurt you. It is impossible to walk down the streets of Obs without seeing security gates and barbed wire in front of every house. When we tell people where our house is the first thing out of their mouths is always something about it being a rough area.

Even though we heard all of the warnings, we didn't fully understand the gravity of the situation. We thought it would be okay to walk and go for runs alone during the day or have valuables visible on our person as long as we payed attention to who was around us. Although we took the advisories about our safety seriously, it was never truly real. Now it is.

Yesterday evening, while it was still light out, three women from our house were approached by two people asking for money for their "charitable organization." After refusing to give them money, the girls were assaulted using a blade and a large stick as weapons. Bags were cut sliced open, a cell phone was stolen, and one woman received a relatively minor, yet long, cut on her leg. Most significantly though, our false sense of security was shattered.

They were doing everything right. They were in a group during daylight hours and weren't flashing their valuables everywhere. Each one very aware of their surroundings, the women knew that they were being followed and tried to walk faster in order to get away. One has even taken a series of self defense classes. Even though they were following the safety rulebook to the letter, it still happened to them.

I have always been able to walk the streets of Chicago or step into shelters and soup kitchens and see the homeless or drug addicts or mentally ill and feel love and compassion for them. I have been able to look through their bad deeds and see the person God made in His image and likeness. Then again, nothing has ever happened so close to home and I have never felt that I am in physical danger. How do I love past the transgressions of others when those acts have been directed at me or my loved ones? We are called to love, but we are also called to forgive. As a Christian, how do I forgive?  How do I selflessly and genuinely love?

Looking at this from another angle, I have a responsibility to myself and those whose who love me to keep myself safe so that I am able to fulfill my calling, but at what point do I put my physical wellbeing aside in order to love in the most authentic way possible? I'm not saying that I'm going to hug someone who wants to mug me. I'm saying that I see myself working around the world in areas of crime, poverty, and drug abuse. Not everyone that I will or do come in contact with is above hurting me in order to rob me, or worse. How do I find a balance between knowingly taking risks with my life and belongings as I answer God's call while being mindful and intelligent about my safety?

This is why I traveled half way around the world - to ask questions and to listen. In giving myself over to this new culture and being present with the people in all of their struggles and brokenness, as well as their joys and aspirations, I hope to come a little bit closer to what, for now, can be my answers.

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