A rough morning

Today was a rough morning. I’ve been debating writing about it because I wasn’t sure if it was appropriate, but I feel like -- for better for worse -- I’ve been really honest with this blog about our experiences in Vienna, and I’ll be sugar coating things if I don’t write about it. Plus I hope that by writing about it I can come full circle and get some closure on a shitty, shitty experience.

Most days I leave for work about 10 minutes after Todd does, and I sort of like it. It gives me a little bit of “Kristen time,” when I can listen to my Ipod and read my book on the train. As I was walking down the escalator at my U-bahn station, two people were ahead of me on the right hand side. As I continued to walk down the escalator on the left, the girl (who was making noise on a harmonica) stepped in front of me on the left. I stepped to the right to go around her, and she stepped in front of me again, and her male friend stepped to the left, effectively blocking me, and she continued to make noise on her harmonica. We reached the bottom of the platform and I stepped around her, but she continued to walk right close beside me, pushing her harmonica and her face in my face. After about 5-10 seconds of her being within eight inches of my face, I turned to her and said, “What is your problem?”

She then started yelling, “What is my problem? You fucking Americans. You’re my fucking problem.” I’ll spare you the verbatim description of her long vitriolic speech that followed, where she blamed me for the death of thousands of people in the Middle East, and the war in Iraq and Afghanistan, and how I’m a heartless American with blood on my hands. Her friend has chimed in with her at this point, and they are both – literally – within six inches of my face, yelling at the top of their lungs. For whatever reason the subway station is very quiet this morning and hardly anyone is around. I keep walking and continue to push them aside, just letting them scream away (because clearly anything I say is going to add fuel to their fire), when the girl starts grabbing at me and my forcefully pulling at my two bags, saying, “What have you got in here? Oh? You don’t like people trying to take your things. You fucking Americans have no respect for privacy, you just exploit everyone.” At this point I’m now getting angry, saying, “What the fuck are you doing? Get your hands off of me!” and still having a tug-of-war with the girl over my bags, forcefully pushing her away.

At this point thankfully a big Austrian man comes over and pulls her off of me, asks me if I’m ok and asks her what the fuck she is doing (sorry Grandma, there was a lot of swearing). She starts yelling at him, and her friend yells, “I am an Austrian citizen, I can do whatever the fuck I want. She needs to get the fuck out of our country!” The Austrian guy who interceded for me is now standing in front of me, basically protecting me, and the train arrives and he grabs my wrist and pulls me onto the train with him. The two ‘attackers’ (for lack of a better word) jump on board and continue to scream, now more at him than at me, but the male friend keeps yelling, “Get that fucking American out of this country!” The riders of the train start staring at me, and I feel like an absolute pariah.

As soon as we reach Stephansplatz, the station where I change train lines, I jump off the train and walk as fast as I can to the U1 line. Either they didn’t see me or have stopped caring, since they were still yelling at the Austrian man and apparently were happy with their new “Pro-American” Austrian target. I was shaking, but apart from a sore arm and my book bag coming a little loose at the seam, I’m physically fine.

I started getting a little emotional on the U1 train to work, eyes welling up with tears even though the rational part of my brain is telling me to get my shit together because I have to go to work. And believe me, the irony that all this happened as I was on my way to work at the United Nations is not lost on me. These two people, also in their 20s, were of Middle Eastern or Armenian descent, and they do have a justified bone to pick with the US and the world. I know that if I had opened my mouth and spoken German, and they thought I was European, they probably would have had some choice words to give me about the EU and its treatment of Turkey, Romania, etc. They are angry people who have an agenda, and I was simply at the wrong place at the wrong time. But the whole experience – being targeted and physically abused because of the foreign policy of my country of birth, being someone’s personal US punching bag – was really unsettling.

I would like to make clear now that in the five trips I’ve made to Europe (all post 9/11), I have never once personally experienced any true anti-American sentiment, and I don’t know anyone else who has – apart from perhaps a cold reception here and there. No one I work with has experienced something like this. It’s not the norm. These people don’t reflect the population of Austria at large. Even if the Viennese can be a little unfriendly at times, it’s how they treat everyone, and it is never because we aren’t Austrian. And I don’t think this whole situation would have bothered me nearly as much if these people hadn’t been physically grabbing me. I can take people screaming six inches in front of my face. If I ever want to work in diplomacy or public policy, I’ll have to get to used to it. But it’s the feeling of physical violation that lingers, that someone is willing to cross the bridge from verbal to physical abuse (albeit mild) of a complete stranger -- because you woke up with that much anger in your heart.

But then I get to the UN and start working on my human trafficking projects, and boy, if ever there was a topic to set you straight, stop you from feeling sorry for yourself, and make you realize how damn lucky you are for being where you are– it’s human trafficking. Perspective: party of one, please.

I’ll probably walk to and from work with Todd for the next couple of days, just until things feel semi-normal again. And I’ll keep working here and going about my business as usual. You live, you learn, and life goes on. I hope for their sake though that those two people don’t stay that hate-filled for the rest of their lives. It doesn’t bode well for humanity.