Visited the bakery on Acushnet Ave., where the owner, Benedicto, has had many problems with violence – including a carjacking. But he wasn’t there. A woman named Juana told me to come back around 5:00. A couple was drinking sweet drinks – arroz con leche – that looked so yummy, and huge pastries, I wanted to stay and work there in the cozy shop, with walls the color of maiz and blue-and-white Guatemalan flags all around. But there have been so many robberies, and the woman behind the counter looked so scared when a group of young boys came in. It seemed like a bad idea to pull out my computer and work, and wait.
Went to the Guatemalan shop across the street – they sell soccer shirts, keychains, cologne. My God, everyone has a story about being robbed, beaten up, accosted in the street “con malas palabras.” Some people want to talk to me about the problem, some don’t. Some say they don’t, stare straight ahead, and talk to me anyway.
Max, who works in the shop, tells me that his apartment was broken into about 5 or 6 years ago. He felt that his apartment had been watched – “they know that Guatemalans work, and have money” – so when he cashes his check he sends the money right away to his family, in Guatemala. But this was a Friday night. He heard someone coming in the door, thought it was his friends, but realized it was a robber. He lost about 500 dollars.
Max says that most Mayans don’t fight back, because they are afraid that if they defend themselves they will get in trouble, the police will drag them in, instead of their attackers. He says that the police’s first question is often about “los papeles,” and they are afraid of that. They are vulnerable on so many levels.
Another man hears us talking and approaches me, tells me his name is Catarino. He says he was been beaten up by a man with a knife outside church, about 5 or 6 years ago. Three guys approached him and a friend. He asked them if they wanted money, and they said no, they wanted to puñar him – to stab him. They pulled a knife on him and hit him. But he fought back, and the guys left him alone, Gracias a Dios.
Catarino invites me to the service that he attends every Saturday night, at 5:30, at a Catholic church where there will be lots of people I can talk to, who might talk to me.