Saturday, February 6, 2010

Nighttime Machete Break-Ins: This is why you should wear PJs always!

First: I am totally 100% okay and so freaking LUCKY!! This could have turned out really bad, but it didn’t.


I wasn’t sure which would be the best media to tell everyone at home about this. On one hand blogging seems very public, very open—it almost seems inappropriate to use this space for an event that will greatly affect my personal outlook. On the other hand the blog is an ideal way to let friends, family, etc. know without having to individually contact and recount for everyone (I already a bit burnt out on retelling). Also, I would rather people hear about this from me because I don’t want imaginations to get out of control in the gossip train, thus furthering negative or misguided stereotypes about Africa. No need for paranoia but these things happen EVERYWHERE and ANYWHERE—had this happened to me in America it probably would have been guns rather than machetes. Regardless of where, I think it’s important to persevere through the negative and choose to live life by caring for the community around us.
Okay … disclaimer being stated, where to start…


Two weeks ago, at 3 am, I woke up with a flashlight being shone on my face. My first thought was that it was Dio—maybe he was confused or sleep walking or something—but he had gone to sleep in his little house behind our house. When my eyes adjusted to the darkness behind the light, there was a man with a machete. “Get money, money, money.” I’m not really sure what I was thinking at this point—I knew I had to keep things calm, I didn’t want to provoke him, but I also needed to get the attention of someone outside the house. I told him to turn on the lights because I can’t see anything in the dark (maybe Dio would notice…). I kept my eyes down as I wrapped myself up in my sheet (because I wasn’t wearing PJ bottoms, it’s Africa and really flipping hot, and I will probably never just sleep in a t-shirt and underwear again) and fought my way through the mosquito net. I didn’t want to be able to recognize him; I didn’t want him to get edgy. He was intense but I could tell he was nervous—if he was the violent type he would have set the mood of the break-in aggressively—he would have hurt me to begin with. I shuffled around my room in my bed sheets, giving him money from the top of the bookshelf, from my wallet, a cell phone. I tried to respond to him loudly, in slow and long phrases… anything to get Dio’s attention but the man told me he would beat/cut me with the machete if I didn’t quiet down… so yeah that shut me up really quickly. He asked for my laptop but specifically didn’t want the cord (side note: idiot, because you can’t get mac laptop cords/mac anything in moz… meaning he has my computer and won’t be able to sell it or use it…. Clearly not a professional, which is fine by me). He left the room for a second and then came right back with a second man with a machete. “More money, more money, more money.” The first man had initially left my room with only about $15.00, his friend was clearly pissed that he didn’t steal enough money. The second guy made me nervous—his demeanor was much more aggressive. Again they threatened a lot to cut/beat me with the machetes. “Open this. Open that.” I think they really believed I was going to have bags of money lying around, and I’d be dumb enough to store it so obviously. I gave them money from my passport pouch (they declined the passport, again lucky me they weren’t professionals). They had me open the med kit, I told them I had no more money (apparently in really stressful situations I’m a pretty good liar) but they could sell the meds (yeah sorry PCMO, collateral damage)—nope they didn’t want to. Finally they left the room; I shut the bedroom door, tried really really hard not to cry or freak out, and waited 15 minutes until they left the house. I yelled for Dio from my room and he came up, pointy-wooden-carved-weapon-thingy in hand.


We assessed the house together. The men, probably more than the 2 that were in my room, had pried the security bars off the kitchen window—probably with a car jack—climbed up into the house. Took apart the lock on the front door from the inside. I’m still unsure how they opened my room because it doesn’t have a handle and you need a key to open the door. They also took a DVD player, which actually belongs to the teen community program Peace Corps runs and ironically was at our house for safe keeping, a Peace Corps bag (because that is something you can totally use anonymously around town), some money from my roomie’s room, a machete—looks like I was held up with my own machete, and other odds and ends.

I’m pretty sure the men came from the mato/bush outside of town because of the way they spoke Portuguese … it’s most people’s second language here and they did not speak it well, their old goodwill clothes, and the fact that they didn’t cover their faces. Also they were quite a bit shorter than me (I’m very tall for Mozambique)… but honestly when someone has a big ol’ machete it doesn’t matter if they are a head shorter than you are. The house had been cased, and the break in was planned, I don’t think it was just chance that this happened the night before Claire was coming back home.


Dio and I frantically tried to call people, a little hard when of the two cell phones we had one didn’t have rede/reception and the other was out of phone credit. He sent out as many beeps (this free text message that tells the recipient to call the person who sends the beep… very popular here, basically “I want to talk to you but you should pay for it”) as is in his daily allotment. We even tried calling the MCell customer service line to see if they would call PC for us. Long story short, got a hold of PC and they sent someone down from Nampula immediately to temporarily evacuate me.

While I waited for the ride, the sun came up and people started congregating around my house, looking at the grate dangling from the house. Most of the talk was about how I should ABSOLUTELY go to a witch doctor, who could have these men killed, make them go crazy, and other charming options. The rest of the time people debated if it was someone from Ile who did it, how the neighborhood was changing. It was touching how the rest of the community responded. People kept stopping by to make sure I was okay. The girls who play in front of the house everyday sat outside all wispy eyed. Actually everyone came by or called except for the school officials… interesting…


So that’s the bulk of it. Congratulations if you made it through this lengthy post. PC has been amazing through the process. We are in Ile for the moment and homeless… waiting to see where we go and live… (maybe I get to use my marine biology experience after all… haha)


A million thanks for all of the love and support everyone!! I’m just getting to the point where I can more or less laugh about it… and being in this positive emotional space would not be possible without the amazing community back home that I am a part of.


I don’t think I’ll ever get over how unbelievably lucky I am.