I've been robbed.
Listen...if you think you are being as safe as possible while traveling abroad, in a city, or ANYWHERE...I have news for you. You're not as careful and safe as thieves are professionals and ruthless.
Almost every time I leave my apartment, I think to myself "this is a risk". I have always been aware that anything can happen. And I have always thought I am being careful and safe: Carry a purse that is strapped around my body rather than just on one shoulder, carry it in front of my body so I can see it, make sure it is zipped shut (more often than not...I also have a hand clutched over the zipper of my purse.), passport separate from my wallet, important cards kept at home, etc, etc, etc. This particular small purse of mine which I will talk about...has a broken zipper, which makes it harder to open and close. Thought that'd be a plus: "Oh, no one will be able to open this thing!"
So here is what happened:
It was a nice sunny Sunday. My roommate and I were on our way to Victory Park in Moscow. Traveled via metro, as usual. When we got off the metro, we weren't sure which side to exit from to get to the park. We conversed in English our plan of attack, which was to simply go above ground, look, and come back if we went the wrong way.
I'm assuming this was when I was made a target.
Note to self: Never talk (yeah right...). Never look like you are contemplating directions.
To a pickpocketer: English + Pointing = Cha-Ching.
We are above ground, see we need to be on the other side of the street. I'm in awe of what I see in the park and exclaim something along the lines of "WOW, hope they have ice cream over there!" We descended down the very wide open (seemingly empty) stairs to go under the street which leads to the other side. As I was walking down, I felt absolutely NOTHING. I saw absolutely NO ONE. But I had a weird intuitive thought to look at my purse...which was situated at my hip...and UNzipped. I didn't unzip it. Ashley didn't unzip it. I knew instantly my wallet was missing, before I even felt for it. Then things became blurry, as a woman who was walking behind me on the stairs was telling me in Russian that a man had just took my phone, and went that way...he is wearing a scarf. It took me about 30 seconds to focus on what precisely she was telling me, as I rapidly threw "what?" "where?" and "I' don't understand" at her in Russian. I knew it was my wallet and not phone... so in a growing state of shock, I was confused.
My instinct was to chase. I ran up the stairs frantically with a rapidly increasing heart rate, while I felt for my wallet which WAS wedged under my iPad...this confirmed it was gone. I spun around...looking as hard as I could in all direction for mystery man with a scarf. There was a bus stop...and a man without a scarf. As this all happened very quickly, my roommate followed behind me asking "What are you doing? Where are you going? Did you drop your phone?"
Thats the moment I remember I just stopped. I stopped looking hard. I stopped the frantic spinning. I stopped hearing everything around me. I stopped breathing out. And to answer Ashley's questions...somehow muttered "no".
Even if I could locate the thief...do we honestly believe I could tap him kindly on the shoulder and politely ask "May I please have my wallet back? I think you may have accidentally picked it up from inside my purse under all my things. You must own the same polka dot wallet, and got mine confused with yours." Or do we think I would yell "Give me my money right now!" in Russian with my thicker than anyone's American accent...and end up beaten, or completely ignored? In a very quick train of thought, I considered both of these things. I realistically knew that approaching the thief...as a foreign, small, unarmed female...was impossible.
I have never felt so utterly helpless, stupid, angry, embarrassed, violated, and scared in my whole life.
You aren't supposed to have your things stolen. I've heard of it happening, and witnessed it happening to friends and friends and friends....but thought "that won't happen to me, never". Avoid the beggars, don't be fooled by the children asking you for money, hold onto your things tightly in a crowded metro, don't walk in dark abandoned alleyways, don't wave your wallet about, etc. But how am I supposed to avoid the complete "shadow men"?. As in...pickpockets so good at what they do...I did not even see him... in broad daylight. In an open (and I thought empty) area.
I lost a generous amount of money that was in my wallet, as well as my college student ID (no more museum discounts). But what sickens me even more...is that a dirty thief had his hand in my purse while it was on my body...and acted stealthy enough...that he could feel around UNDER my iPad and remove my wallet without me feeling or seeing a thing. Had to have been done within 10 seconds, if my head was turned to look across the street...opposite way from my purse.
Of course I was incredibly upset. What gave him the right to my personal space? What good did he do to deserve my hard-earned money?
What puts people in a position where they must steal?
Why are there so many of them?
With the time and energy put into training to become a professional pickpocket...said bum could have been training to be magician...and by now in life would've made it big in Vegas.
I don't even know what this man I hate most looks like.
There is absolutely nothing I can do...except get over it and carry on. I can't find him to give a piece of my mind. I can't tell the police...HA like they would do anything about it here. I can't sit and cry. I can't be scared to ever go outside again. This can happen anywhere, and to anyone. He has got my money now...but guess what? Tomorrow it will be gone and he will need to steal again.
I'm thankful that I have the opportunity to make an honest living. I will never need to steal. You can't have a pleasant life living as a robber. Its impossible. He can't be having a good time. I believe that given his lifestyle...inevitably something terrible and unfortunate will become of him.
So...besides immediately going home, putting on my swimsuit, sitting on my balcony with an ice cream cone (courtesy of fabulous roommate), while painting my nails and listening to my favorite uplifting tunes and researching beaches in Spain I'm going to vacation to in June.... to make myself feel better:
I've been pretending that my robber tripped on a rock, fell in a river...and in the process, my fat wallet slipped out of his hand and into the hands of homeless orphans. That makes me feel so much better.
Wrong place at the wrong time. I'm telling you. It will happen to anyone.
It could be a lot worse. I could have been in the wrong place at the wrong time in Boston, or Sandy Hook, or Aurora, or the LA Fitness I was a member to in Bridgeville, Pennsylvania the summer of 2009.
I hate violence. I hate crime.
I cannot wait to teach and encourage my future first graders starting in September (who understand English) how to simply be good people.
I just can't wait.
-Gina
Listen...if you think you are being as safe as possible while traveling abroad, in a city, or ANYWHERE...I have news for you. You're not as careful and safe as thieves are professionals and ruthless.
Almost every time I leave my apartment, I think to myself "this is a risk". I have always been aware that anything can happen. And I have always thought I am being careful and safe: Carry a purse that is strapped around my body rather than just on one shoulder, carry it in front of my body so I can see it, make sure it is zipped shut (more often than not...I also have a hand clutched over the zipper of my purse.), passport separate from my wallet, important cards kept at home, etc, etc, etc. This particular small purse of mine which I will talk about...has a broken zipper, which makes it harder to open and close. Thought that'd be a plus: "Oh, no one will be able to open this thing!"
So here is what happened:
It was a nice sunny Sunday. My roommate and I were on our way to Victory Park in Moscow. Traveled via metro, as usual. When we got off the metro, we weren't sure which side to exit from to get to the park. We conversed in English our plan of attack, which was to simply go above ground, look, and come back if we went the wrong way.
I'm assuming this was when I was made a target.
Note to self: Never talk (yeah right...). Never look like you are contemplating directions.
To a pickpocketer: English + Pointing = Cha-Ching.
We are above ground, see we need to be on the other side of the street. I'm in awe of what I see in the park and exclaim something along the lines of "WOW, hope they have ice cream over there!" We descended down the very wide open (seemingly empty) stairs to go under the street which leads to the other side. As I was walking down, I felt absolutely NOTHING. I saw absolutely NO ONE. But I had a weird intuitive thought to look at my purse...which was situated at my hip...and UNzipped. I didn't unzip it. Ashley didn't unzip it. I knew instantly my wallet was missing, before I even felt for it. Then things became blurry, as a woman who was walking behind me on the stairs was telling me in Russian that a man had just took my phone, and went that way...he is wearing a scarf. It took me about 30 seconds to focus on what precisely she was telling me, as I rapidly threw "what?" "where?" and "I' don't understand" at her in Russian. I knew it was my wallet and not phone... so in a growing state of shock, I was confused.
My instinct was to chase. I ran up the stairs frantically with a rapidly increasing heart rate, while I felt for my wallet which WAS wedged under my iPad...this confirmed it was gone. I spun around...looking as hard as I could in all direction for mystery man with a scarf. There was a bus stop...and a man without a scarf. As this all happened very quickly, my roommate followed behind me asking "What are you doing? Where are you going? Did you drop your phone?"
Thats the moment I remember I just stopped. I stopped looking hard. I stopped the frantic spinning. I stopped hearing everything around me. I stopped breathing out. And to answer Ashley's questions...somehow muttered "no".
Even if I could locate the thief...do we honestly believe I could tap him kindly on the shoulder and politely ask "May I please have my wallet back? I think you may have accidentally picked it up from inside my purse under all my things. You must own the same polka dot wallet, and got mine confused with yours." Or do we think I would yell "Give me my money right now!" in Russian with my thicker than anyone's American accent...and end up beaten, or completely ignored? In a very quick train of thought, I considered both of these things. I realistically knew that approaching the thief...as a foreign, small, unarmed female...was impossible.
I have never felt so utterly helpless, stupid, angry, embarrassed, violated, and scared in my whole life.
You aren't supposed to have your things stolen. I've heard of it happening, and witnessed it happening to friends and friends and friends....but thought "that won't happen to me, never". Avoid the beggars, don't be fooled by the children asking you for money, hold onto your things tightly in a crowded metro, don't walk in dark abandoned alleyways, don't wave your wallet about, etc. But how am I supposed to avoid the complete "shadow men"?. As in...pickpockets so good at what they do...I did not even see him... in broad daylight. In an open (and I thought empty) area.
I lost a generous amount of money that was in my wallet, as well as my college student ID (no more museum discounts). But what sickens me even more...is that a dirty thief had his hand in my purse while it was on my body...and acted stealthy enough...that he could feel around UNDER my iPad and remove my wallet without me feeling or seeing a thing. Had to have been done within 10 seconds, if my head was turned to look across the street...opposite way from my purse.
Of course I was incredibly upset. What gave him the right to my personal space? What good did he do to deserve my hard-earned money?
What puts people in a position where they must steal?
Why are there so many of them?
With the time and energy put into training to become a professional pickpocket...said bum could have been training to be magician...and by now in life would've made it big in Vegas.
I don't even know what this man I hate most looks like.
There is absolutely nothing I can do...except get over it and carry on. I can't find him to give a piece of my mind. I can't tell the police...HA like they would do anything about it here. I can't sit and cry. I can't be scared to ever go outside again. This can happen anywhere, and to anyone. He has got my money now...but guess what? Tomorrow it will be gone and he will need to steal again.
I'm thankful that I have the opportunity to make an honest living. I will never need to steal. You can't have a pleasant life living as a robber. Its impossible. He can't be having a good time. I believe that given his lifestyle...inevitably something terrible and unfortunate will become of him.
So...besides immediately going home, putting on my swimsuit, sitting on my balcony with an ice cream cone (courtesy of fabulous roommate), while painting my nails and listening to my favorite uplifting tunes and researching beaches in Spain I'm going to vacation to in June.... to make myself feel better:
I've been pretending that my robber tripped on a rock, fell in a river...and in the process, my fat wallet slipped out of his hand and into the hands of homeless orphans. That makes me feel so much better.
Wrong place at the wrong time. I'm telling you. It will happen to anyone.
It could be a lot worse. I could have been in the wrong place at the wrong time in Boston, or Sandy Hook, or Aurora, or the LA Fitness I was a member to in Bridgeville, Pennsylvania the summer of 2009.
I hate violence. I hate crime.
I cannot wait to teach and encourage my future first graders starting in September (who understand English) how to simply be good people.
I just can't wait.
-Gina
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