At the Crossroads: Living Along the Border
Soldiers stop me twice as I walk the few blocks of military housing. When the first soldier asks me where I am from and where I am going, the question is so unexpected that I’m not sure what to respond, my brain scrambling from English to Spanish as fast as it can. “I live here in Tacna … but I’m walking to a meeting downtown?..” He lets me through. I greet the second soldier and the interaction repeats itself. “Be careful out there,” he calls after me, a phrase that rings strangely in my ears. There’s something off about the way he says it but I can’t put my finger on it. They aren’t menacing or angry and I’m not scared, just puzzled and a little unsettled. I have often cut through this neighborhood and never received more than a “buenos días”. Then again, the streets between the Chilean consulate and the military zone usually show little-to-no signs of life. But something has changed: now there are tents and groups of young adults gathered in circles. There are families w