Today i had perhaps the strangest experience of all my time here in Nueva Suyapa. I went to a pulperia (a little family store where you order things through a window facing the street) with another volunteer. While we were talking with the owner, a skinny, barefoot man in dirty clothes who i've seen many times in the community came up and stood behind us. I felt nervous, then felt bad for feeling nervous. Then the man grabbed about three dollars out of the volunteer's hand and started running away. I yelled after him, then felt like letting it go. The man, perhaps because of the attention i'd drawn to him, dropped the money in the street, and the volunteer was able to go pick it up, and we continued our transaction at the pulperia.
On the way back to the office, a woman asked us, “Did the man drop all your money, or was there more?” “We got it all back,” we told her. “Oh ok, because the soldiers have him over there.” The woman pointed down the street where, in fact, a group of soldiers had detained the man. We stood there for about fifteen seconds watching like everyone else. The woman told us, “He's always doing stuff like this.” “Does he have problems?” i asked her. “Yes. He's crazy,” she said. Then the volunteer asked, “Should we go tell them that he gave all the money back?” I said, “Yes, i would like to go talk to them. Do you want to go talk to them, or do you just want to be done with the situation?” She agreed to go talk to them, so we went.
As we walked up, one of the soldiers asked us, “Are you the ones he assaulted?” “He didn't assault us,” i said. “He took a little bit of money from her hand and then ran away. He dropped the money and she got it all back.” “Did you get all the money back?” the soldier asked her. “Yes,” she said. “What do you want us to do with him?” the soldier asked. I directed his question to the other volunteer. “Oh, i don't know, it's your decision,” she said to the soldiers. They tied his hands behind his back with rope and started walking him back to the main road.
I asked the other volunteer, “Do you want them to take him away? They were asking us if they wanted us to let him go or not, but now they're arresting him.” She was a little bit flustered. “My own inclination is to try to get them to let him go,” i told her. “But since he robbed you, i think you should decide.” “I think we should talk to them,” she said.
The soldiers had already started moving away, but one was sort of lagging behind. I told him, “We don't want you to arrest that man.” “You want us to free him?” he asked. “Yes,” i told him. “Come with me,” he said.
In front of our building, where the soldiers park their vehicles and gather throughout the day, they were already putting the man in a military vehicle. I was introduced to the officer in charge. He said, “Did he attack you two?” “He didn't attack us,” i said. “He took a little money from her and then dropped it.” “Did he hit you?” he asked. “No,” we said. “This man has mental problems,” the officer told me. “We are going to take him to the police station where they'll register him. Do you two work here with the school? What's your telephone number? For whatever problem, we'll call you, if we need you to sign something, for example.” “I know that this is up to you and not us,” i said, “but i would like to know what will happen to him now.” “We'll take him to the police station, and they'll register him. Then they'll decide if they'll let him go or take him to an institution, or what. For whatever purpose, i'll call you.” I thanked him and shook his hand and we left.
Inside the building, a bunch of the loan officers from our micro-loan program were hanging out. I said to one of them, “Franklin, could you help us with something. A mentally ill man took some money from the other volunteer and the soldiers have him now.” “And you want us to help you get them to let him go?” one of them asked. “Yes, will you help us talk to them?” i said. Well, not just Franklin, but four of them came with us to talk to the soldiers. All of them recognized the man, who was now in the back of a police truck. All of them clearly pitied the man. The officer was on the phone, but when he got off, i said to him, “Excuse me, but i was just wondering if you could explain the situation again with my friends, since they speak the language better and are Honduran.” The officer said, “I can see that this man has mental problems. But he has robbed people before and has given us trouble, so we're going to take him to the police.” One of the loan officers, Yonatan, who, in an earlier blog told me how he thought the military presence here in Nueva Suyapa was “amazing,” said to him, “we know that you all are here to do good, and i appreciate what you're doing here. But these two don't want to be the cause of this man going to prison. They want you to let him go. They're different, and they have different ideas. I know you're doing a good job. But they want him to be let go. We can talk to him and walk him back to his house.” The officer immediately said, “We will let him go, but if he keeps robbing people, we'll arrest him.” He immediately ordered the man to be taken down from the truck. I thanked the officer. “At your order,” he said.
The man started running, and Yonatan yelled for him to wait. The man complied. Yonatan sat the man down in front of a house, and i followed and sat down next to him. Yonatan said, “You have to be careful. You can't keep taking money from people. If you do, they're going to take you away.” The man, his head lowered, his eyes staring at the ground, nodded gently. Then he went towards his house. I touched his shoulder as he left.
We walked back towards the school and i thanked the officer again. “At your order,” he said.
Back in the office i told the other volunteer, “I realize that i sort of took charge of that situation. If you feel like i overstepped or did something without consulting you, please tell me.” “No, you did ask me, and i wasn't sure what i wanted to do,” she said. “Yes, but ultimately i did what i thought was right, and i perhaps didn't give you a chance to really weigh the decision.” “I think you did the right thing,” she said.
Today i had the opportunity to put into practice certain convictions and ideas that i have been wrestling with lately. Ideas about the military, and policing, and violence, and leadership, and forgiveness, and the Gospel. For the first time, i took my beliefs out of an analytical context where i tell my neighbors or friends how their views are probably wrong and then feel bad about being arrogant and judgmental. Instead, my friend and i found ourselves in a situation where we could forgive or not forgive, and in forgiving, we could advocate for the person who had wronged us. That's a wonderful privilege. Too often in my time here i have felt opposed ideologically to things with which i had no real experience. I can talk and talk to people about forgiving thieves and drug users, but all that talk is meaningless compared to actually forgiving a thief or a drug user. And now that i have, in practice, forgiven a thief, i am even more convinced that it is the right way.
I am glad that i have the example of Jesus to follow, because in this situation, the way that i believe to be Jesus' way and the way of truth proved much more reasonable than the way that was initially being taken. I couldn't do anything less than what i did (and i hope i would have been willing to do even more) to make sure that the army didn't take a mentally ill man to prison for God knows how long because he took three dollars from my friend and then dropped it in the street. I want to live my life, i want to conduct my actions, in the name of Jesus. And if i live my life in the name of a man who claimed to have come to proclaim freedom for the prisoners, then i will not sit by while a mentally ill man is sent to prison in my name.
