Oficina de atención al ciudadano P.N.C. or Citizen desk of Civil National Police (P.N.C. in Spanish acronym) was written in the back of the three-tray inbox sitting in the desk of one of local police station, or rather administration office.
This police office main purpose is to receive citizens reports, formal complaints, denunciations, et cetera. There was nobody there, except for the lonely woman police officer with a computer and printer that looked like the hardware I worked on in the 80s. It was very quiet, except for the hammering sound of the dot matrix printer. There were broken down tall file cabinets and the omnipresent kitsch decor found through out Guatemala. In the patio there were bright painted circles and other such figures remaining from the time the house was pre-primary school. “We’ve been here for six months,” the police officer shared with me, “and I don’t know if we will be here next month,” she continued, “since the six month lease is up and the police administrators in Guatemala City have not paid or renewed the contract with the landlady.”
The office was three rooms, maybe four, with a bathroom and the entire place looked like was dreamed up by Franz Kafka for his novel The Trial (El Proceso in Spanish and Der Process in German). For better or for worse, living in Guatemala feels, quite often, like living in a Kafkaesque world, but in the Tropics.
It’s good to know that Dios te ama!