Assignment 3: Memoir

Write a short memoir about one of the following types of travel experience:

A tense situation

or

An interesting encounter with a stranger

And if there’s something else you want to write about, go for it. But try to keep this under 500 words.


(The initial draft of this work is actually 1200 words, but I needed to pare it down to around 750 max. This is the version I submitted. I feel like I have stripped away some of its depth, but I need to learn to become more poignant.)


The entry doors to the station were propped wide open in an ironic attempt by the Barcelona police department to escape the long arms of the Spanish sun. As I exited my taxicab, the fourth of which I had rode in that day, I gathered my thoughts, courage, and legal papers and strode towards the gaping entrance, concerned that I was about to be swallowed by an administrative and cultural nightmare.



The officer in the reception area was reclined far back enough to put his feet on his desk. A large pot belly and gristly moustache cast a comical and cartoonish, clichéd image, but his eyes and demeanor quieted any chance of my internal laughter.



He had seen our kind too many times before to care about the intricacies of our particular story: he knew all of the internet cafes around town in which backpacks were stolen daily, so my story was not unique.



He greeted me with an audible grunt and a strong smell of sweat and smoke. He begrudgingly reviewed the papers that a friendly, English speaking lawyer had produced for me earlier that day; a detailed list of the items that had been stolen from me and a note written in Spanish, explaining my situation. In order for me to properly submit an insurance claim for losses, I needed a police report of the incident, including an inventory of the items stolen.



The officer completed reading my note, looked up at me, and spoke a full paragraph of Spanish. Prepared for this response, I motioned to him that I did not speak Spanish. Having seen this routine before, the officer quickly shifted gears and we began a game of international charades. It was a fast paced game, and played out as such:



His shoulder-shrugging and open-palmed pointing at the papers on his desk stated, “I’m obviously too busy to help you, look at all the work I’ve been avoiding.”



By pointing at my watch and smiling apologetically, I rebutted with, “But it’ll only take 2 minutes and then I’ll be on my way, allowing you to continue avoiding your duties.”



After little progress in this manner, the officer’s face briefly light up and he changed tactics. Pulling out a map of the city, he circled a spot in the Southern end then pointed around the room, orienting me to our current location. Seeing my understanding, he then circled another area on the map, three-quarters the way across town. Studying the map more closely, I saw that he was trying to shuffle me off to another precinct. The thought of restarting this whole ordeal on the other side of town deflated me, and I was firm in my denial of his request.



Moving swiftly around the desk, he shoved the map in my hand and grasped firmly on my shoulder, beginning to ‘guide’ me out the door. I dug in and easily refuted his attempts to push me around. While he continued to struggle I couldn’t help but imagine the silly scene we were creating and I began to laugh. This only further infuriated the squat officer and he reeled back and punched me square in the chest. My schoolyard training kicked in and I pulled back to deliver a response of my own, but was stopped by the glee in his eyes. As I stood there cocked and ready to fight, I could see the officer mentally licking his chops. He knew that, as soon as I hit him, he had all the authority in the world to make my life hell.



A haltingly loud call came from an unseen back room. A sharply dressed man emerged to see our testosterone-fueled tableau. My heart thudded in my ears but I could still hear the chastising tone the suited man used to speak to the officer. My saviour scanned my lawyer’s note and directed the officer into the seat in front of the computer. Dejected, my pugilist adhered to his orders to fulfill my request.



After a brief but tense period of time, I emerged from the station with my report in hand. Thankful that the entire ordeal was over, and that I was not currently sitting in a cell, the policeman’s seemingly erratic behavior began to make more sense. While I fleetingly traveled from city to city, visiting the beautiful attractions along the way, the locals in each of these areas knew the dangers and darkness that can lurk behind tourist facades. If I, too, were confronted with a seemingly constant stream of naivety and ignorance from visitors, I could understand the desire to fight against it, in whatever way I could.