How not to get mugged or

"I'll send the boy to meet you" the mother told me.

There is an article in this morning's paper in which one of the more senior staff is reminiscing about his encounter with a gang in the Bronx in New York. He was lost and could easily have been mugged, perhaps even left for dead.  Yes, it is a dangerous area.

He got out by being honest with them. He was from a capital city in another country and he had been sent there to write a story. The gang told him it wasn't safe and  they escorted him out of the area.

Yes, he probably was lucky. There is no doubt they had also decided he did not have much to give them if they had decided to assault him. And yes, he was lucky he was not mugged.

It reminded me of an experience I had in London. London, like any major city, has some places which are less safe than others. There are similar places here. (We even have an area the police call "little Chicago".) 

I was doing research and one of the things I needed to do was interview a number of families. Late one Friday afternoon in winter found me at Brixton station. I was met by two "bovver" boys. They were dressed in style. They had safety pins piercing some very unlikely places. They looked rough and tough. I had to trust that their mother was right when she had told me, "They'll look after you."

We were stopped by two London bobbies on the way out of the station. I wondered if we were in for a confrontation at that point but they just greeted the boys and asked if I was all right in their company. Yes, I told them, these two were my escort. They told the boys to take care of their visitor and we went one way. They went the other.

I went in and out of Brixton for some months after that. The boys never met me again. They didn't need to. Word had got around. A couple of times they acknowledged me in the streets I used and I was always vaguely aware of others being aware of me, of watching out for me. Word had simply got around that I was not there to do any harm. 

It seems extraordinary but in a city the size of London I was probably as safe in that rough area as I was anywhere else. We talked about it later at the university. I had been offered a taxi fare to and from but I had chosen the Underground - largely out of an innocent belief that "it couldn't possibly be that bad". And, in a way, I was right. It wasn't. I was there for a legitimate purpose. While I was doing an interview I was not there to pry but to help. They were curious about me.  Going in a taxi would have set me apart from them. Using public transport is what they did.

I don't know how not to get mugged but I do know not pretending to be better than anyone else helps.