Thursday, July 17, 2008

Danger, Will Robinson!

Do you ever have that moment, where all of a sudden, you realize that you have unwittingly put yourself in a totally non-negotiable position? You are bopping along and then you pause, come out of your fog, and think "Oh shit. If this were a movie, everyone in the audience would be saying 'yeah right, as if anyone would be stupid enough to get themselves in that situation.'"Like in horror movies, when they run upstairs, or wander into the woods at night.

I don't often find myself in these situations, but I am a little Pollyanna-ish about the world, so it's happened once or twice. I frequently imagine how mad my mum would be if she could reviewmy actions on film. Approximately half the things I did in France would have earned a "You silly bitch" from one (or both) of my parents. (Sidenote: that is an affectionate term in my family, I swear. It even sounds cute in my mum's accent. The Johnsons are very into using completely unsavory names as terms of endearment.) Spending the night in the Bordeaux train station in the company of a particularly un-charming, crazy homeless man (obviously not by choice) was admittedly not the smartest decision I've ever made. Wandering around a rough Parisien neighborhood at 4 in the morning, also not especially sound judgment. I was alone for most of my month-long Interrail experience, so I can tell you that some pretty suspect characters enjoy loitering around Italian and Belgian train stations.

My first thought for this post was to write about accidentally stumbling into a protest (with police, and tear gas) in Budapest. Now, I know what you're thinking. How is it possible to accidentally find yourself in a protest? Because there are a lot of people, and they are yelling, you might think they would be easy to avoid. Well. It just so happens on that particular day they were ALSO holding a candlelight vigil to mark the 50th anniversary of the Soviet tanks pulling in. So there were a bunch of people standing around, quite peacefully, when my friends and I went into the House of Terror (both the Nazis and the Soviet secret police occupied this building, at different points of time, and it's a museum now. God, it's horrible in there. But I will have to save that for another post.) We came out, and the masses were moving along, so we figured it was something of a parade. We went to dinner (Indian, and delicious, in case you're wondering) and when we came out again, there were more people! We assumed they were the same people, and they'd just wound their way back to that part of town, so we didn't really think anything of it. They were going our way, so we just fell in with the crowd as we made our way back to the hostel. Sure, they were way louder than before. I just kind of assumed it had taken them awhile to get into the full swing of things. Maybe like, phase three of the vigil? Obviously I don't speak Hungarian, so I had no idea what was going on UNTIL some man stopped me and asked for my pashmina. RUDE! I was completely confused, and tried to explain to him that a) it was freezing, so I was disinclined to acquiesce to that particular request b) it was brand new and c) pink was not really his color. After a very long pantomime between the two of us, and approximately two words of english on his part (which I think were "gas" and "police") we determined he wanted to use it in case the cops (who were apparently up a few blocks) decided to gas everyone. As you can tell, this guy was not especially concerned about my respiratory health. We decided that it was a pretty good time to find an alternate route to the hostel. Except for Ande, our resident Peace Studies major, who wanted to actually join the protest. Typical.

So that was probably one of the most dangerous situations I've been in. But I can't say it felt dangerous, because nothing happened. Except, I almost lost my pashmina. I mean, for most of the experience I had NO idea what was happening. I probably would have been more freaked out if I spoke Hungarian. But isn't that always the way? Ignorance is bliss? My friends were around me. I (probably rather stupidly) assumed everything would be okay. Strength in numbers, right? Besides, everyone loves Americans! (Just kidding.)

At any rate, it seems to me that it's not so much the place that's dangerous, but the people. When Hobbes said life is "nasty, brutish, and short," I think he meant that we make it that way. Except for some places like Australia, where every plant and animal is trying to kill you (another story for another post), mostly it's the people that make a place safe or dangerous. Which is perhaps why when I think about dangerous places, I immediately think of the crazyhead in Bordeaux, or creepers in the train station, or a mass of angry Hungarians. I also think of this guy I encountered on a bus once. I was going home from downtown Bellevue (the yuppie capital of the world). As I waited at the transit station, he came up behind me and repeatedly tapped on the glass behind my bench. Then he got on my bus. He smiled at me (in a not nice way) all the way home. After I got off the bus, he continued to smile at me, through the window as they drove away. And then he got off at the next stop, just down the road. I have never been more terrified, or more concerned for my overall well being, even though my house was less than 15 minutes away. I grew up in that neighborhood. We buy corn at the Red Apple market there, and last-minute birthday cards at the Hallmark. My dad and I used to go to the Dairy Queen after tee-ball games. My elementary school is just up the hill. But in that moment, it was the most dangerous place in the world to me.


As a happy p.s. though, I called my male friends and they quickly came to my rescue. Captain Creeper went away without much fuss.

1 comment:

JM said...

All great works of literature quote from Pirates of the Caribbean.