De Los Estados Unidos

15 September, 2014
"Fear and Loathing in the United States

Well, it's finally come. After 2,5 months with my family and friends, I am returning to Madrid. There was a lot (I mean a LOT) of drinking, dancing, and travel. And somehow I STILL never managed to see everyone I wanted. Some were too far away, some I was too exhausted to get to (I'm so sorry.), and some just made no effort to call me at all. Whatareyagonnado?

It was great to see everyone, but I also learned a lot. It's interesting when you see things with fresh eyes. It's interesting how many things change when you go away, and how many things stay the same. Although it was nice being back with family and friends, in my home country, there were so many things that showed me that I made the ABSOLUTELY correct decision.

Por ejemplo:

- Safety: Not many people know this, but I was a witness to a shooting when I was 17 years old.  It was an attempted murder/suicide that involved my then boss and the man she was seeing.   I'm not going to get into the gory details, but it actually happened at my job. She broke up with him. He didn't like it.  I saw him run into the store, I saw the gun, and I hid behind the counter. She lived. He didn't.

There's also the: I'm from one of the worst parts of New Orleans thing. I have heard of and seen more crime happen in my city, than some. I have lived in a place where hearing gunshots is normal

From the moment I touched down in the U.S.I felt a fear that I´d never experienced before.
In Spain I´d rid myself of certain habits, like constantly looking over my shoulder to see who was behind me. Looking in the reflections of store windows and cars to make sure no one was sneaking up on me. Watching shadows on the ground, to see if anyone was behind or near me. Sizing up everyone I passed on the street, like: "I can kick his ass... I can kick her ass... I can DEFINITELY kick that old lady´s ass..."

I was back on U.S. soil for 24 hours, and woke up to the news that 9 people were shot in a nightclub on Bourbon Street. Welcome home, KC. You just left a country that had 7 shootings this year. Your mom´s apartment complex had 3 last night. Good job, buddy.

So it was such a relief when it came time to leave and return to Spain. It was also just so strange. I´ve always known that NOLA was dangerous. Atlanta didn´t have the greatest track record, either. But this was the first time I was truly afraid of the cities I called home. I´d been reading about the crimes happening back in New Orleans. and I had no desire to be back in that environment.

If you haven´t left the U.S. and experienced what it´s like to have that kind of security, then you can´t understand. It was hard to explain to my Spanish friends what it was like to constantly watch where you walk, or just having the fear that you could be shot at any moment. People in my country are allowed to openly carry guns. and they are not afraid to use them. So it makes you a bit shy. That dude who just stepped on your foot could be carrying. Road rage takes on a whole meaning, when there are pistols involved.

I´d seen stories about a few women who were dragged into alleys and raped in the French Quarter, rapes/sexual assaults in the LGD, and now people wanted me to walk through the Bywater (alone) to meet them on Decatur Street... They didn´t seem to understand my reluctance (or flat out answers of "FUUUUUUCK NO!")  and I didn´t understand the sudden fear of my birthplace.

Look, New Orleans is dangerous. It´s always been that way. We know damn good and well that we don´t live in Disneyland, and we´ve always known that. But after living in a place where being gunned down on the street just doesn´t really happen. You can´t buy piece of mind like that. You can´t appreciate it, if you always had it , and you can´t reclaim it once you´ve lost it. I  guess it´s hard to explain, if you haven´t been there. I can only explain how I feel.
I breathed easier once I was in the air, leaving that behind.

 I miss my home, my family, my cat. But I don´t miss the feeling that I was compromising my safety just by leaving my house. When I lived in New Orleans, I had a ritual before I went out into the world. I would kiss Avon (my cat) on the top of the head, scratch his ears, and tell him I loved him. Just in case I didn´t come back. I wonder if I´ll do the same once he comes to Madrid...