It’s a choice

Moving to a new country means a lot of things, most of the good and exciting. However, it also means more orientation.

Life is different in Nicaragua. I’m different in Nicaragua, already. Some changes are good - I discovered I love pineapple, especially white pineapple. Some changes aren’t good.

When we were going through orientation, one of the things they spent a lot of time focusing on was safety. I suppose its an issue where ever you are, but it seems to be more so here. Crime rates are high and being robbed on the street seems to be inevitable when you are here for a long period of time.

So I took their advice. I walk with my head down, purposefully and with confidence, like I know where I’m going, even when I don’t. I don’t stop, I don’t linger, I don’t smile, I don’t make eye contact. I ignore men when they whistle or yell things at me. I don’t let their comments effect me and I move quickly to where I’m going next.

But before I knew it, I started to assume that everyone was a bad guy in disguise and that if I slipped up for a moment, if I hesitated or showed weakness, they would sense it. I began treating everyone with fear and distrust.

And then I was on the bus going home. It was crowded, but not too bad, I’ve been on worse. And as I was standing there, I watched an older women climb up the stairs. She did a quick scan to make sure there weren’t any open seats and then prepared herself to stand for the rest of her bus ride. But right away, the young man who was sitting hopped up with a smile and though she stumbled a bit as the bus began to move, the young women in the next seat smiled and laughed as she steadied here and helped her sit down.

As simple as it sounds, in the moment, I realized they are all just people too and I was looking at all of them completely wrong. I would rather error on the side of thinking the best of everyone than to think the worst of them.