Berkley Center

Every Sunday morning of the year, an average Spanish neighborhood in Spanish fills with thousands of people—Spaniards and foreigners alike—browsing at hundreds of booths set up at El Rastro, Madrid’s world-renowned open-air flea market. El Rastro is famous for its offering of well-priced jewelry, clothing, souvenirs, trinkets, and knickknacks. In addition to being a hoarder’s paradise, the market, unfortunately, also serves as a pick-pocket’s happy hunting ground. On my second trip to El Rastro, I sadly discovered this to be true.

After two full months in Madrid without incident, I felt a sense of safety and comfort in this big, foreign city. I only carried bags with zippers, keeping them close, visible, and fully closed in public places. I don’t use a backpack, but instead a small cross-body bag or tote. I had the heard the statistics and warnings time and time again.

“Beware and especially aware in crowded places.”

“Pickpockets are professionals, often traveling in groups or using distraction tactics.”

“They target foreigners.”

My program’s director warned us that every year, multiple students find themselves victim to crafty pickpockets. In fact, in 2009 Trip Advisor released an article outlining the "Top 10 Places Worldwide to Beware Pickpockets.” Spanish cities appear on the list twice, with Barcelona filling the top spot. Madrid comes in at number four. In its very brief statement about pickpockets in Madrid, the travel company specifically advises caution at El Rastro.

After generally heeding the forewarnings, but thinking “that would never happen to me,” on November 3 I found myself frantically scanning the crowd of El Rastro for the woman whose back of the head I glimpsed, and who now held my small wallet in her hands. I had felt a tug on my purse strap and reached down to notice my previously-closed purse open. Hearing my keys clank, I quickly turned around to get a peek at a woman hurrying away with my belongings. Unfortunately, the market was too crowded and there was nothing I could do.

I immediately contacted my parents to cancel my cards. I waited at the non-bilingual police station, frazzled while filing a report in broken Spanish. I contacted my host parents about getting copies of their house keys. I felt foolish and defeated.

A month later, with new cards and keys in my possession, I look at the experience irritably, but I do not hold any hard feelings against this beautiful city that has been my home for this semester. Pickpocketing is a widespread crime across Europe, and many friends—both in Spain and outside—have found themselves in similar predicaments. Even my mother, who was only in Madrid for a few days, awkwardly came face-to-face with a woman in the process of trying to subtly unzip her small purse while attending a parade for a national holiday. (She, therefore, was later very empathetic when I informed her about my experience.) Also, if forced to make a choice, I prefer this type of petty crime to the alternatives.

While pickpockets undoubtedly leave their victims rattled, angry, inconvenienced, and slightly poorer, their physical well-being remains intact. I may not have to actively worry about my belongings being covertly snatched from me in the United States, but I face a constant influx of news stories about shootings, murders, and other violent crimes. This is not to say that these types of crimes do not occur in Madrid, but they do seem to occur less commonly. Madrid is one of the safest capitals in Europe, and I have never feared for my general safety while in this city.

Overall, from my experience, I’ve learned that I can never be too careful or vigilant with my belongings and that the feeling of invincibility accompanied by the thought, “This would never happen to me,” may very well cause it to happen to you. It also led me to an incredibly easy rhetorical question: would I rather face the risk of losing 50 euros or my life?