Unfortunate Events?

A cool breeze brushed the back of my neck as I adjusted my head scarf. The Sheik (one of the Islamic leaders of Garissa) broke the heated Somali discussion when he looked at me and asked, "Have you had ANY visitors to your room?" The Halgon manager, night worker, Farrah, Hersi, Helima (TARNET chairwoman) and the Sheik all stared at me..the first moment of silence since the religious meeting started. I knew the underlining meaning of the question and I said strongly, "No. Absolutely no one has been in my room except for Wanjeko, the cleaning woman."The Sheik looked at Ousman, the night worker, and he confirmed and added, "She is right. No one has been in her room. All of her socializing is done at the cyber cafe or the restaurant. And she has never went off with anyone." The discussion continued in Somali and I looked attentively at the speakers, but my mind went elsewhere. The images of my current reality were instantly replaced with visions of a distant memory. The thatched open-aired patio of the Nomad Palace and the curious onlookers dissolved into the green countryside of Ireland, back ten years ago..moments before I was robbed the first (and last) time.

I turned my Walkman up louder. U2 almost silenced the screams of the baby in the back of the bus who had been crying since we left Dublin. I looked back at the mother several times. She seemed oblivious to her child's cries. I watched the rolling green land of Ireland as I leaned on the bus window until we reached Athlone, the middle place between Dublin and Galway. Joey and I arrived in Dublin the night before, without an itinerary, but equipped with a Lonely Planet book. Over breakfast that morning we decided to bus it to Galway and then hitchhike around the coast and back to Dublin. We only had four days until we were due back in class at the University of London where we studied in 1999.
When we arrived in Athlone, I left my purse (which contained 7 pounds, my debit card, and passport) on my seat next to Joey, who decided to stay on the bus during our 10 minute rest/bathroom break. I quickly went into the bathroom. When I opened the stall, the woman with the screaming baby was on the other side. There was an awkward moment in which she locked eyes with me before moving to the side. She entered the stall as I passed. The look puzzled me as I washed my hands. There was something telling in her eyes, but I didn't get the message, at least not at that moment.
When I walked back on the bus, my heart raced when I realized that Joey was no longer on the bus, neither was my purse. Joey told me she didn't have my purse when I met her at the landing when I ran off the bus. I turned to the bus driver and told him that the woman with the baby stole my purse! I ran back into the bathroom and around the building, but she had already left the premise. Joey, by this time, had informed the bus station and confirmed my suspicion. A few people noticed that she momentarily paused at our seat before exiting but didn't see her take anything.

"How many US dollars was your laptop?" The Sheik brought me out of my thoughts. I answered him and also told him the price of my new Cannon camera. The conversation turned back into Somali, but I knew the Sheik told the manager that the hotel would need to replace the money..something I wasn't expecting. The manager agreed. He not only thought it was fair since he couldn't secure my things, but it has been a huge embarrassment to him. Because I have been so social, everyone knows that it happened. I laughed internally, again at the similarities between these two events...

The Irish guards were called immediately and I was taken to Mary Green's house, the gypsy woman who stole my purse, in an unmarked car. I sat in the backseat behind tinted windows as the plain clothed policeman/guard, walked up to her house to question her. When she stood outside, I couldn't get a good look and therefore couldn't identify her as being the woman. We drove back to the house about an hour later and she was outside hanging clothes on the line. I recognized the screaming baby's outfit on the clothesline and the little boy was sitting on the lawn next to her feet. As I was telling the officer that yes in fact that was her, a man approached the side of my window and pounded against it while yelling something that I couldn't hear. We drove off. I was told that it was Mary's brother. "The gypsy family is close. They all get involved together in issues such as this. Which is why I'm bringing you downtown to sit in a cafe while we bring them in, because the whole family will come in with her." He left me at a cafe, in a corner away from the big front window and informed the staff. Moments later there was a mob at the window and the guards were trying to block the door. The restaurant staff told me to lock myself in the bathroom while one of the men ran to the front door to lock it from the inside.
I was later returned to the bus station, around sunset. I met Joey there and she was surrounded by people; laughing and chatting. She handed me an envelope and said, "Alicia, this is what they gave us." Inside was a little more than 90 pounds - money that a few men collected from the station workers and nearby local people. I told them that we couldn't accept it because I only lost 7 pounds! But they insisted. They felt ashamed and did not want us to leave their town with bad thoughts caused by one woman's actions. The bus station also reimbursed us for our ticket and payed for our connection to Galway. The guards apologized for not being able to locate the purse; Mary was not admitting to the act.
Joey and I said our goodbyes to the guards and station workers. As I stepped onto the bus, I heard the plain clothed officer shout, "Wait!" I turned and saw him running into the station with a bright look on his face. He told me that Mary just told him where she threw the purse. He ran into the bathroom and I followed him into the stall that Mary and I both used. He lifted the back of the toilet seat and pulled out my soaking wet purse. Everything was still inside except the 7 pounds which the officer had given me out of his own pocket hours earlier. We had checked all the garbage cans in the station, but not the toilets!

Joey and I never paid for a single drink, dinner, or mode of transportation the entire weekend and the collection of money that we received paid for all of our nights in the B&Bs. We only saw the same road twice, but were graced with Irish hospitality by everyone we met, literally from the moment we stepped off the plane until we boarded again. Because of Mary Green, I will always remember the kindness of the people and town of Athlone, a place I wouldn't have bothered asking the name of during our ten minute scheduled break. My mother even wrote a Thank You letter to the Athlone newspaper.

When the meeting concluded, Ousman bent down at my side and told me that they would find a solution to this problem and said that he was very sorry, and I believed him. The manager was going to talk with the owner. I continued to receive calls and visitors all day long at the Nomad Palace from people telling me how sorry they were. Many said that they could tell that I was really enjoying the community and they hoped that this event won't change my opinions of it and of NEP in general. I have reassured people that one negative act can not replace the endless acts of kindness from the community.
Yes, of course I'm frustrated...my parents bought the laptop for me days before I left and my uncle spent time building it up with software and I lost 540 pictures that I have taken since I arrived. I lost the work I have done since arriving here, but had an external hard drive with all of the necessary documents that I need to complete my work over the summer. I bought it the day before I left only because Nina told me that I NEEDED to buy one and thank GOD. Thank you Nina!

The night this happened, I left my room for only 20 minutes to walk to a nearby store to buy clothes hangers. When I entered my room, it took me a couple of minutes to realize what happened. I actually thought I was losing my mind and thought perhaps I packed up my computer before I left the room. I looked under the bed, under pillows, in my laptop bag, in the closet...then slowly my stomach rose to my mouth and I almost began to cry...not because my computer was stolen, but because someone had entered my room, someone now has access to my files, my work, my pictures, and my music. A gift from my parents had been taken from me. And the pictures...I told school children that I would print and give their photos to them. I brought photo paper with me and Yussef was helping me print them.
Within minutes after I called, Farrah arrived with one military man armed with a machine gun, a policeman and a policewoman. They completed a report and questioned the management while I talked on the phone with Eliza who was canceling my automatic paypal account that was stored on my skype account. Farrah instructed me to pack my things and we were going to the Nomad.

After Farrah left me in my new room, I found myself sitting on the king size bed under the mosquito net canopy...and my mind started racing...was it an inside job? Did I know the person who did it or was it a stranger? I hoped it was a stranger, but didn't see how that was possible. The room was locked when I entered and locked when I returned. What could I have done differently? And then I stopped myself...and remembered one of the most important lessons I learned in Peace Corps, there are MANY perspectives to view ANY situation (you have to learn that lesson and believe it or you either leave early or go crazy..literally). In that moment I realized that all of a sudden I'm in a new environment, my daily interactions will be different than expected, and my scene was widened...I will still go back to the areas where I enjoyed spending time, but I'm at this Nomad Palace hotel where people from all over the world 'hang out.' With that, I walked out the door at 9:30pm to see what would happen. I wondered, 'Who would I meet outside in the open-aired patio?' 'What kind of conversations would I have here?'...At 2am I returned to my room for the evening... with a possible job opportunity for the month of August here in Kenya. I submitted my CV and paper work yesterday.

Was this an unfortunate event, or was this an event for a new opportunity? Both, of course.