An Ode to a great purse

Ellyn writing....
Malta, Caribbean, Egypt, Greece, Turkey, Italy, Vietnam, and multiple US cities...My little black Brazilian purse has traveled with me since 2005 when I bought it on my first trip out of the country to Brazil. It has seen happy times and sad times but all in all it has been an amazing journey. I am now mourning the loss of a wonderful purse that has stood by me through thick and thin, which has happily carried many items and stayed hidden enough as to where no one would bother trying to take it. It was small and a perfect size to fend off all the thieves. I could hold it close by my side and felt safe yet adequately prepared with enough items to carry me through the day. The rein of my little black Brazilian purse ended ever so suddenly Sunday November 9, 2008 at approximately 14:00 (broad daylight). I was driving my bike back from looking at a house for possible rent when two men on a motorbike drove up to me and slowed down. Now this is not an unusually occurrence as a foreign western woman (people slow down and stare all the time) so I really thought nothing of it. When they moved in really close I knew what was going on but by that time it was two late to do anything about it. The man on the back of the bike grabbed onto my purse which was hooked around me and tried to yank it away. For a moment I was being dragged along by their motorbike because my dependable purse was holding on stubbornly. Finally, the purse broke free as the strap broke. My lovely Vietnamese friends sped off into the distance leaving me on the ground yelling to get attention of the passerbys. A man with his son and wife on the back of his motorbike slowed and told me it was too late, they were long gone and then mumbled something about a phone. He left when I stumbled back onto my bike which was then completely out of alignment from the fall. Out of the several other witnesses no one made a move to help out so I figured I was on my own. I hurried back to the hotel to close my 3 credit card accounts of which I had stupidly kept in my purse. When I reached the hotel I tried to tell the front desk workers what had happened but they sat me down trying to clean up my bloody mess, their English would not allow them to help me in anyway so rather that try to explain to then what happened I came up to my room and got my parents to close my American accounts. My Vietnamese account would be left open until the beginning of the next day because they are not open on Sundays. The system is very convenient for people who need to take money out, however, closing your account is entirely impossible on Sundays. So here I am two days later without my trusty purse which I had entrusted more than it was worthy. Along with my favorite purse went my camera, my phone, 800,000 d/V which is $50 (which leaves me with no accessible money to my name until I figure out the bank situation), all of my credit cards, and a pack of American gum. Unfortunately what came with it were some great scrapes and bruises (love the battle wounds), a depleted trust of Vietnamese people, an awareness of my vulnerability, a bike which no longer works properly, a sadness with the realization that the scenic route I love to run through every day is not the safest area to be in. Still I have to take into account that my losses were minimal. My scrapes with quickly heal, I did not have my passport in my purse (I had given it to ILA for a visa renewal), I had needed a new camera anyway (I had dropped it in a bucket of paint so while it still worked I had to manually pry the lens open before taking pictures). I had wanted to bike through Vietnam but as this type of crime seams to be a normal occurrence across the country, I may want to chose a different country for my long bike trip. Being a foreign white woman means I have a bulls-eye painted right on my back for crimes like these. I shall be much more careful in the future, while this experience makes for an interesting story, I think once is enough for me! My little black purse that I loved so much will live on in my heart forever, but I must move on. Someday maybe I can find another purse that can live up to its greatness. Goodbye forever my faithful purse!


Ignore the awkwardness of the picture but this is me, my good friend Madalyn, and my purse in Malta