Wednesday, July 26, 2006

Adventures in the hood

I am currently at my mom’s house, utilizing the (unbearably slow) internet while waiting for the arrival of FedEx. Soon I’ll be sending my final batch of paperwork to the South Korean consulate in Atlanta in order to get my E2 Working Visa. It hit me last night as I was filling out my visa application that I’ll be in South Korea (for the third time!) in something like 2 weeks or less, depending on how long the consulate takes to process this stuff. I need to get packing. Literally. Hell, I haven’t even fully unpacked from Russia yet.

But that’s not exciting; this is: Last night I got to call 911 for the first time in my life! I suppose I shouldn’t be writing it in a way that makes it sound like an adventure or something, but to be honest, I found the entire situation quite intriguing. I can definitely see the appeal of reporting from a war zone now. Well, not that I live in a war zone or anything, but...

If you’ve been following my blog from my arrival in Waycross, you’ll know that my neighborhood isn’t exactly the best or the safest or the most crime-free. Every night there are always people in the street talking, sometimes yelling, doing who-knows-what, and generally just hanging out on the street corner in front of my house. (Between the fact that my house is lit-up like a prison at night and the fact that I’ve got a city-owned street lamp on the corner of my property, I live in the most well-lit portion of the neighborhood, and that seems to be where everybody hangs after dark.) I’m pretty much accustomed to the noise; after living under the flight line of the San Diego airport for two and a half years, and after spending a year in an apartment located on the busy Prospekt Lenina in Vladimir, I can tune a lot out. But every now and then, something gets me interested in the goings on outside, and, being that I’m kind of nosey, I spy. (I’ve perfected the techniques of observing my neighbors without being observed. I tried to film them with my webcam, but sadly it’s too low-res to get anything. I may try with the actual video camera one of these days. I wish I’d had it last night!) Anyhow, last night I was in bed reading, when the general hubbub on the street rose well beyond its normal level, so I turned out my lights in order to spy. (If you leave the lights on, people outside can tell that there’s someone at the window.) There were a lot of people on the street in front of my house and the house next door (you know, the people who were stealing my electricity here and here
). There were at least 15 people, if not more. There were also two cars in the street. People were shouting, although I couldn’t make out complete sentences or anything, so who knows what it was about. At some point one of the people said something involving the word “gun” (although I wasn't sure) and then the cars drove away. There were still a lot of people out in the street, lots of talking but no more shouting... then suddenly one of the women shouted loud enough for me to hear “Oh my god, here they come!” and everyone outside ran inside and shut the door. A silver car pulled up in front of their house and stopped the door opened and I could hear voices. I heard a very fast series of clicks - clickclickclickclickclick - although I have no idea what made these clicks. Then a man got out of the car and walked towards their house. The first thing I noticed about him was his hair: it was longer than most black men around here wear their hair (about chin length) and it was in braids. Then I noticed that he was shouting. Then he got up right next to their porch, and under their porch light. That was when I noticed that he had a gun (a small handgun) which he was pointing at their house as he continued to shout. At that point I grabbed my cell phone in one hand, my dog in the other, and scurried off to the bathroom to call 911. (Isis the cat was sound asleep under the bed throughout all of this.) Of course, the 911 operator wanted to know the make and model of the car, but all I could tell them was that it was silver. I explained what I’d seen and she asked if I wanted to talk to an officer. Um, sure, okay. So, they sent someone out. It took about three minutes, which was pretty good timing, although by the time I got off the phone with 911, the man with the gun and his silver car were gone. I got to explain all of this to the cop (apparently I wasn’t the only one who’d called it in, although I was the only one who’d agreed to talk to an officer). He knocked on the door next door, although at that point I was on the phone with my mom (who asked me if I wanted her to bring over her new Taurus handgun. Mmmm, no.), so I don’t know if anyone answered over there or not. My guess is not, as he was over there for less time than he spent with me, and that hadn’t been that long. Then he left, leaving me kind of feeling as though calling the cops had been somewhat useless. Shortly thereafter, someone ventured out onto the porch next door and turned off the porch light. A little while later, some people left and rode away on bikes, and that was the end of the night’s excitement.

And, after all that, I’ll let you go with some warm and fuzzy pet images.

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After I unpacked my new dishes, Isis took-over the box.

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This is what I wake up to in the morning.
(Note the blurriness of the wagging tail,
and Isis in the background looking on disdainfully)

2 comments:

Khakra said...

haha.. the warm and fuzzy images did absolutely *nothing* to recover from that frightening experience! unless it was a watergun or some kinda gun firecracker or something

annie said...

well, after the cop left, the warm fuzzies and i curled right up and went to sleep....