Spooked

Not wise, watching a movie about murder and walking home in a new city at night. The trouble with me is that I don´t trust taxi drivers or cops more than the people on the street. I trust mothers with children and people that look like middle class office workers, for no good reason. I don´t trust large groups of children, people that stare without hiding it, or trash piles. For some reason, I feel spooked walking by piles of trash on the street. Buenos Aires is full of such stuff. Maybe it´s that I associate crime with overturned trashbins. Tonight, I felt like April from the Ninja Turtles, walking over grates and hodgepodge waste. I was hoping the half shells would come rescue me if anything jumped from my shadow or rose from the depths of unlit streetcorners. I would feel unsure of myself until some carefree young couple walked by, a jogger would pass, or some elderly person would stroll by. My confidence and sense of security would again soar, dip again when some tall passing man mutters sex under his breath, and rise in seeing a full restaurant, lit well.

It´s funny what makes me feel safe and what makes me fearful. Eating sugary foods has actually (though not after Christmas) made me feel safe in uncertain times. The most sugary, fatty snacks should leave me shaking in my boots. In public, the oddest conditions change me from easy going to uptight. For example, seeing a black couple, business caj eating at a restaurant nearby on an apparent date, made me feel comfortable and more easy on my walk. As far as the later goes, could there be a logic to fearing a neighborhood without diversity? Does it show general acceptance? Not likely. While by no means does racial diversity spell safety, I cannot feel right in places without it. What I´m describing isn´t a moral that I´ve decided on, but something that I´ve noticed about myself; I´m trying to understand why I feel so jumpy and distrustful of skin tone homogenies. Why does it make me feel physically unsafe? No sé.