And this some experience daily...

It’s moments like these that are like sharp points of a fork that define us. My longing to experience more of the realities of Buenos Aires led me to a poor squatter area an hour’s bus ride to the southwest of the city. I was accompanied by a friend of my host brother’s, Cristian, who had grown up in the neighborhood. He was one of those that in our first conversations it was clear we carry the same life-guiding torch of justice. As the bus pulled up to our stop, the rain started down, and I geared up to meet another side of Buenos Aires. As we walked through the narrow, muddy paths that patterned the shoddily-constructed homes and listened to Cristian’s narrative, I was reminded of what I had seen in Haiti, the shanty towns of South Africa, and the flavor of the Dominican barrios I often walked through.

We looped in and out, and then in again. The morning plucked a minor note when several young guys starting moving towards us. I thought I was under protection of Cristian’s loyalties there, but learned otherwise as quickly five jumped on us—four to him and one to me despite his pleas “soy de aca!” (“I’m from here!”). After a feeble struggle on my part I remembered the advice always preached in safety situations, “just give them what they want; your life is more valuable.” The guy yanked until the bag ripped off its strap, he ran off, and I stood there unscathed and numb as I watched my friend wrestle with four. He finally gave up his money and cell phone. They ran off, and we walked the 50m to the edge of the “zone” as Cristian inspected his sliced hand.
He called over three police officers who essentially pronounced us the violators of the unwritten law that you don’t go in there. They made not one move toward the scene despite my begging eyes.

Being with a native I trusted and respected, I thought I had a special and relatively safe “in.” And I was attempting to live out the peace I believe in; to not be hindered by the fear, by the stereotypes. To bridge gaps. To understand other perspectives, experiences, and realities.

My adrenalin is tapped and I’m in a quagmire of thoughts. Reconciling my intense spirituality and faith with the realities of the world has always been my struggle, and today it came to an unsettling crescendo. It was a selfish move, in many ways, and I realize anew how much my decisions can affect those who care about me.

My shock processes and my rollercoaster of feelings cascades. What flowers through my intense sadness and embarrassment is the incredibly loving, wise, gentle yet firm support of my classmates here. They understand more than any the inexpressible depths of what drove my longing to bear witness to the other realities of Buenos Aires, but at the same time hold me in check. Hold onto the light, but steadily and patiently channel it…