Cultural Anecdotes

These short stories detail some of the ways I´ve battled with cultural differences but through time embrace the understanding of why things are different.

1- Walk and day dream. Tough I´ve never fallen into the open man-holes in the streets of Piura or the open shoe-size holes that occur about every 10 feet or so on most sidewalks I´ve come close on hundreds of occasions. You might think that this is a liability in most places but not here. There are no law suits of those sorts here. Why are there open man-holes and square foot size openings all over the streets and side walks of Piura? Sometimes the city does work on the sewage lines and forgets to put the lids on the man-holes until the project is completely over. This could take months. Sometimes they are nice enough to mark the open hole with a rock or tree branches but never with bright orange plastic cones. That would be stupid. They would be stolen within hours. What about the squar foot holes that are found in the side walks? They are where houses and buisnesses turn on their water. Just like we have water meters in our back yards they have their water valves directly in front of their front door which lies directly on the side walks. Why aren´t they covered? Many are covered by a metal lids. However, when someone loses their lid for some reason (usually it is stolen) they feel obliged to take someone elses. As you could imagine, this creates a vicious cycly of theft. To steal the lid requieres physically removing a bolted down hinged metal lid. It must take some effort but then again nobody likes to have a foot deep hole in front of their door. Those who find it morally wrong to steal their neighbors lid use wood 2x4 plants to cover their holes. Whats the point of this? Well, after 2 years of dodging the holes I can now walk and think about other things at the same time. I can now day dream and walking! Before one would have to constantly worry about falling in these US lawyer salary makers. I have adapted a subconscience for avoiding dangerous holes in the ground.

Why the hell can`t I use my cell phone in the bank!
After wondering why the police always asked me to refrain from using my cell phone in the bank I later just didn´t question it. I just found it annoying and a stupid rule that didn`t make since. That was until I learned the reason for the rule and what a logical way to prevent robberies on individuals leaving the bank. You see, before, the robbers would lurk inside the banks and observe who was taking out cash. They observed how much cash they were taking out, if they were accompanied by friends, and most importantly, how they were planning on returning home after leaving the bank. The customers who were loaded up with cash, alone and leaving the bank on foot were prime targets. It was as easy as callingfrom a cell phone from inside the bank to somebody on the outside telling them who the target was. This was usually done by telling their friend what color of shirt they had on or other physical descriptions. That was very common practice. Today, every bank and most stores hire police or security guards to stand outside the store and prevent robberies. Makes since huh?

The thief is the person who runs
It´s always bad to generalize, however, I can`t help it. When I see people run down the street I immediately think they have stolen something. My girlfriend gets mad at me when I say ¨Look honey, a thief¨. Sometimes it is obviously not a thief but a buisness man or woman wearing a suit while running to catch the bus or an old lady trotting a long the side walk. Those cases I am joking around. However, I believe most of the people I see running I assume they have stolen a purse or jewelry and our running from the police. I see so many petty thefts in the streets of Piura and so many thieves that are brought into the police station where I work.

One of my favorite memories was when I played Mr. Justice a few months back. As I was in a taxi and saw two teens running down the street holding a purse. I told the driver to follow them. When the taxi hit a road block I tossed him the fare and got out to chase the boys down. I hauled ass. Thinking about the time the thieves stole my watch and cell phone at gun point gave me incredible god speed. I was taking my anger out. Justice had to be served. I was hauling down the street with my dress shoes, slacks and brief case. The people in the street didn`t do anything to slow the teens down. I would have appreciated a trip or something to slow the them down. Luckily I was full of adrenaline and can run fast. I caught up with the kids and tackled the one with the purse. The other boy kept running. Soon the cops showed up and helped me take them back to the police station. I thoroughly enjoyed talking to the boys about the life path they were going down. To top off my high I wanted to take them to their parents and explain to them what happened. They were both under 18, no shoes, no shirt, extremely skinny to the point you could see their rib cage. The teens looked like they were under 10 years of age. It was clear that these boys were stealing for drug money or food. Either way, I felt it was grounds for incorporating parent involvement in their punishment. The police didn´t agree. It is safe to say that the boys served some time in a juvenile center, which, in Peru are training grounds for future murderers, thieves, and rapists. I still don`t understand the justice system here. I wish there were creative forms of punishment and rehabiliation. Community service could be an option.