The Mystery of the Stolen Bicycle

This is a story of exactly what not to do in the Peace Corps.

I have come to trust everyone in my neighborhood. For better or for worse, being the only white person gives you a lot of advantages, including a safety net that until the other day I thought untouchable. I consistenly leave my things out in my yard, whether it be speakers, matresses, chairs, or a bike because I trust that the only people entering my compound would never steal anything I own, especially a bike that is so genuinely American that you cannot find it anywhere in Tenkodogo.

So when I tried to go meet my friends one night (using my bike as transportation of course) I saw that my bike was nowhere to be found. What the hell am I supposed to do in this situation?
I was exposed for the first time and my sense of security rocked.

I called my nieghbor and he immediatly came to help me. This affects him almost as much as it affects me simpy due to the fact that we share a compound. My things are his things, and vice versa. So if their stuff is stolen, my stuff is stolen. So what do we do? We call the principal, because he has no idea either. He knows that this bike is my lifeline here and more importantly Peace Corps property, so I'm screwed without it.

So after deciding that we would go to the police the following day, they told me to relax. "Nobody in Tenkodogo owns a bike like this," he says. "It will be easy to find." The second sentence was said in a hope for the best but expect the worst tone.

Of course this is where things became an embarrasement. My neighbor's wife comes over to me laughing hysterically. I, like the forgetful person I can be, left it at the restaurant across the street where they had been gaurding it expecting me to come back at any moment to pick it up.

This stupid little incident has now been the laugh of the week. My neighbor's wife is blackmailing me into playing soccer with the little boy or else she will tell people I cried about the bike (not true by the way!) and everyone else asks me everyday where my bike is. It's been quite a laugh for everyone, including me, but still extremely embarrasing none the less.

But it got me thinking, "what if someone had stolen the bike?" I will no longer leave it outside or unattended in my yard. Coincidentally Bob had escaped during the hour that the bike was "stolen," and even if he had been there, all the thieves would have to do is offer him a plate of spaghetti to distract him. I do not have a relationship with the police, other than the guys who work at the prison near by. I know Peace Corps wants to maintain a seperation, but we are still required to at least have our presence known by local authorities. My town is a large trading town with many trucks going by making the prospect of stealing my bike and boarding a truck to Ouaga tempting.

So what I take out of this whole thing is simple and something that all Volunteers should remember at all times. Do not rely on your being different to be an adequate security system, thieves exist everywhere and they don't take breaks. Lock things up when you are not home and take the time to say hi to local authorities, you never know when you may need them. On the plus side, I did notice how quickly my community responded. It meant a lot to me to know that they have my back when something goes wrong.

Bike returned and no mystery after all. I guess I should call this story "The Mystery of Dylan's Sometimes Empty Brain."