"Be aware of the world around you."

I can still hear my father’s voice saying those words. “Be aware of the world around you, Little Girl.” Sure, usually when he said it, I was about to step in a fresh wad of chewing gum, but I think he had a broader lesson in mind. It’s a lesson I’ve thought about pretty often over the past seven months. Be aware of the world around you.

To me, those words mean a lot of things. Look out for chewing gum and dog poop, of course, but more importantly – know what’s going on around you. Don’t hide from it. Understand what’s happening and be ready for it. Don’t bury your head in the sand. Be alert. Be vigilant. Be smart. Be aware of the world around you.

The other night Roger and I went to the movies, and on our way back to the car, we passed a girl crying outside of an ATM with several police officers surrounding her. Of course I had been chattering mindlessly as usual and hadn’t noticed the somber situation. Once in the car, though, Roger asked me if I’d observed anything unusual.
Huh?
So much for being aware of the world around me. Roger reminded me that I must be careful when using an ATM, but he also stressed that I should try to be more aware of what is happening around me. Once again, I could hear my father’s voice and realized that twenty years later, I’m no more “aware” than I was when I was eight years old, about to put my foot in that chewing gum. Roger must have seen the fear in my eyes, because he then reassured me that I shouldn’t really worry about it because I would never be out by myself at night anyway. And he’s right. I don’t leave the house alone after dark. Funny huh? A girl who used to think nothing of a late night stop at the grocery store or walking through a parking lot at midnight. Now, if I volunteer to go pick up take-out for dinner, I am only ‘allowed’ to go if I take Moose in the car with me (him being so vicious and all…).

So yes, I’ve had to make some adjustments in order to survive in this city so notorious for its crime. I don’t go out alone after dark. I’ve learned to lock the doors as soon as I get in the car. I keep my purse underneath the driver’s seat so that no one can break a window as I sit at a red light and lift it from the passenger seat. I know to have the automatic gate key in my hand and ready to press the button before I turn into my driveway (most people get carjacked while sitting outside their own homes, waiting for the gate to open). I’ve gotten used to the fortress-like walls that surround every home, the electric fences, the barbed wire, the laser beams, the security guards patrolling the streets.

When I put it that way, it seems like Joburg is a scary place to live, and it can be. But fear is a little like an over-protective parent. It’s smart to listen to your parent’s advice, but you can’t let them make all your decisions for you. Likewise, I believe it’s important to listen to your fear. Pay attention to those hairs that stand up on the back of your neck, but you can’t let fear rule your life. And just as you’ve developed an understanding with your over-protective parents, you must learn to handle your relationship with fear.

Living in Joburg, it’s impossible not to be a little afraid, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. That fear keeps me alert. It makes me aware of my surroundings. It reminds me to be on the look out for danger. Then again, sometimes I think the real danger of living in this city is turning into the kind of person who sees a threat in every unfamiliar face. The kind of person who assumes the worst of every stranger. And while I’m afraid of becoming a victim, I’m terrified of becoming that kind of person.

So I will try to be cautious and “aware of the world around me,” but I will not allow fear to keep me locked inside my own little fortress. I refuse to live each day with the belief that every stranger is just waiting for an opportunity to hurt me. I won’t let this city take away my ability to see the good in people.

Of course, I suppose that’s easy for me to say – I’ve never been a victim.
And God willing, I never will be.