Yes, I'm an attorney, but . . .

Is it safe? Is it safe? Is it safe? I heard this from a lot of people when we told them of our plans to come to Quito for the summer. Well, mostly I remember my folks harping on the fact, but I'm sure at least one other person must have asked. My reaction was, I live and work in one of the most likely cities in the world to be targeted with a September 11th type attack, how safe is that? Most folks we mentioned Ecuador to weren't even sure where it was, and forget about Quito. I've got to think this makes us pretty safe from a terrorist strike. Just to be safe though, I just knocked on wood (i.e., my head).

The security of the building was one of the key selling points used by our landlord for our apartment. Well, that and the pool, but that is a subject for another day. In fact, of the dozens of websites that we surfed online when looking for a place to stay, I imagine that the only ones that failed to mention the security features we would enjoy, were the ones that didn't have any security features to offer.

To get to our apartment on the sixth floor, we need to use a key to get through the gate to the complex from the street. Then we walk by a security guard. We need a key to get into Block 12 (our cell block). Then we walk by a guard. Before you can use the key to open the door to our apartment you have to use a key to open the steel gate that fronts the door (picture the door to a jail cell). Only then can you pass the threshold to this 600 sq. foot paradise. But, if you are here to steal our cash, be prepared to search hard. I have divided it into three piles and hidden it in three different places in the apartment. Even I can't find them.

To get into our house in Alexandria you need to get past the front door, of which the lock on the door knob doesn't always stay locked. And this is in a place where, since the year 2000 when we moved in, we know for a fact that there have been three murders within a 100 yards of the place. And we keep our cash, often a bundle because many of Rebecca's clients pay her in cash, in a place where you don't even need to come all the way into the house to steal it. And I occasionally walk home late at night from the metro. I doubt that I will walk anywhere in Quito after dark.

So really, it is safer for me to be in Quito than it is in Alexandria.

I think part of my comfort with a lack of security in Alexandria is the "it won't happen to me" attitude. I know what can happen walking home late from the metro but it won't happen to me because I've done it before and it's been fine. I've never done it before in Quito, so until I am forced to do it that first time and it's fine, it's not something I will do.

The other thing that I attribute my lack of security comfort level in Alexandria to is my philosophy that you don't shit in the same pot that you eat from. In other words, I trust the punks in our neighborhood not to fuck with me because I see them every day; I don't call the cops on them when they are smoking joints in the alley behind my house; I don't hassle them when they are otherwise goofing around in the park, and I'm out there with Maya and Jonah; and I feel like me and my family are a recognized part of the neighborhood. Some punk who decided to hassle us by breaking and entering, messing with my car, coming in my backyard, etc, even if I didn't know it was him, could suffer from my potential attitude change. You leave me alone and I'll leave you alone. Everybody understands that and it works out well for all of us.

I'm not part of the neighborhood here. I n fact, with my bald, white head, American clothes and pathetic Spanish, I stand out like a goth in the front row of a Bob Dylan concert. As a middle class Anglo, I've only felt more like a minority when I was in Hong Kong. (Talk about short people. Not only was I the only white person walking around Broadcast Drive, I was about a foot taller than everyone else!) Not that I've felt targeted because of the fact of my obvious differentness, I just think it makes me more wary. I'm not going to leave my backpack over there while I walk over here for a moment like I would do in my 'hood.

So, not only am I safer in Quito, but my property is as well.

The other safety issue that Rebecca and I have discussed is the children's safety. To put it bluntly, this is not a safe place for children by American standards. Any analysis of kid safety, I think, has to start with the playground. I've already spoken to this in some of my earlier blogs. But let me review.

Defined play areas surrounding "playground equipment" (and I use that term loosely) don't exist. As I've mentioned in reference to the old airplane that is currently fenced off, many slides that are not fenced off are missing important parts and instead have jagged, rusty metal edges. As you can see from this photo, even Rebecca was frightened. The slides also very frequently have concrete blocks for a landing pad. Concrete blocks are also apparently deemed to be a suitable medium under the various climbing apparatus that abound on the playgrounds we've frequented, around swings, and in any other place inviting to children.

Today in Parque Carolina, Maya and Jonah discovered a pile of rocks that is actually meant for children to climb on. Here is a picture of Maya almost at the top. [NOTE - Sorry, technical difficulties uploading pictures from the camera to the computer. Picture will be posted as soon as my IT gal sorts it out]. She was too timid to make it to the top today, but I have no doubt that it won't be long before she summits. And what the hell, the fall won't be that much more painful from up there than it would be from where she is in the picture. Of course, at the base of the pile of rocks - concrete blocks!

Obviously, personal or corporate liability does not exist. Or at least, is not of great concern. Rebecca and I, being the attuned attorneys we are, also noticed this when the boy almost drowned the other day. The people running the boat operation, and presumably, holding some responsibility for what goes on in the lake, didn't give a shit.

Caveat emptor when it comes to crossing the street. We've been told by locals that pedestrians do not have the right of way, even when the little person is blinking green.

All this definitely keeps you on your toes.

I've been reading a book called "A Survival Kit for Overseas Living". I have the second edition - from1984. It's one of those books I don't even know where I got it, but I've been dragging it around with me for a dozen years or more. [Note: Mom, I had this book before I met Rebecca.] This trip seemed like a good opportunity to finally read it. One of its themes is, essentially, that I (as an American) will enjoy my trip more if I understand the characteristics and beliefs of people in my culture and the characteristics and beliefs of the people in the culture to which I am headed. The author suggests not to compare the two to determine which is better, but to compare to understand why there are similarities and differences. That is about as far as I have gotten in the book, but I suspect that the author will suggest that one way to apply this understanding is to recognize where your own attitudes and behaviors could be adjusted or modified to make yourself more adaptable to the culture shock.

So, if I were to apply my understanding of the differences between Ecuadorian playgrounds with those at home, and modify my behavior to make the culture shock less shocking, I might put a package or two of Tums in the backpack whenever we ventured to the park.

Though, I have to say, I find the idea of people taking responsibility for their own actions or failure to act, and not looking to blame someone else with a lawsuit, refreshing. Of course, my bread and butter is taxes, not personal liability lawsuits.