I left you Friday nervous as to whether we would have a place to sleep that night. We left Buenos Aires headed toward 9 de Julio, a small town about five hours away by bus. All the hotels were booked due to an auto race that we were unaware of. We got to 9 de Julio Bus Terminal with nowhere to go, so my husband went to talk to a travel agency there while I sat on a bench to watch our stuff.
Do you know what happened then? I got flashed. A perverted-little-fifteen year-old flashed me. I was in his direct line of sight from the bathroom doorway. No I was not peeking in, he waved himself back and forth until he got my attention. He exposed himself, laughed, and ducked into the bathroom. “What? What what what…. Wait … WHAT!”
I was upset. Deeply disturbed. I left our baggage for a second to get my husband’s attention so we could do something about it. We informed his supervisors, who did nothing. I asked my husband to “talk firmly” to the kid, which he did. The next day we reported it to the police. We talked to someone who wrote a report. The officer informed us the laws are different here, they can’t do much, but they would be willing to talk to him.
The officer knew right away who the boy was. They informed us he had been kicked out of his house at an early age. No one would take him in. He had been to Juvie before, he was trouble, and most likely he would end up in jail. This was the first time he had exposed himself in public, to their knowledge.
This whole incident was so sad to me. Sad that this fifteen-year-old boy would think it was okay, even funny, to do something like that. It made me sad he had no family and nowhere to go. It made me sad that nothing was going to happen about the situation.
One lesson I have learned that stood out to me is “what you tolerate you teach”. I will not tolerate being molested like that. If you ignore emotionally and sexually abusive acts like this it just teaches the offender that there is no consequence, therefore it’s okay to do. Don’t tolerate abuse.
So, that night we did get a hostal. It was horrid, with no bathroom, no heating (it was cold!), and WAY to expensive.
Luckily the next day we visited some of my husband’s friends (He lived in Argentina for two years serving an LDS mission). They invited us to stay with them and the whole weekend turned around. Thank goodness for their hospitality.