Seeing that I’m quite large ,and very white, I figured I would not be an easy target for pick pockets in São Paulo. Nearly four hours into my descent towards the dark inner workings of the city, Brazil had had enough of my rotting American presence, and decided to speed up the digestion process. I was publicly humiliated, attacked, and nearly beaten up by a ravenous pack of small children roughly seven years of age. I was sitting in this park in Praça da República, the historic neighborhood where I was staying, and suddenly, several small children came happily charging with the intentions of acquainting themselves with my pockets, rather than giving me a free lesson in Portuguese. After a futile attempt to communicate with me, they realized I was stupid, confused and vulnerable. Several loud cries were projected from the leader, commencing the battle, and I was immediately swarmed. A boy clutched the straps of my backpack to the left. The one in front pretended to have a gun under his shirt as he yelled nonsensical banter in a rage and fury. The others attempted to clock me in the head, yet they could barely touch my neck as they jumped up to reach me. A counter attack was constructed, and 
with a few swift flails of my arms, I batted the puny children away like gnats. Success. I was in the clear, or so I thought. I had forgotten about the most viscous of them all. A small girl stood in the back of the pack, gazing with a heart warming stare, eyes that would melt the goose bumps right off your arm. She attacked. Before I knew it, there was a small hand clawing at my face. My glasses were trusted toward the pavement below, and I was suddenly helpless. Immediately surrounded, the thirsty clan prepared themselves to feed on their innocent prey, the baffled tourist. I awkwardly darted for my glasses, heroically pushing a few small children down to the ground in the act, and made a run for the exit. I had won, escaping with all of my possessions in their proper place. From this point on, I kept my head down and mouth shut. If the children were this fierce, I could only imagine how intense the adults were.
with a few swift flails of my arms, I batted the puny children away like gnats. Success. I was in the clear, or so I thought. I had forgotten about the most viscous of them all. A small girl stood in the back of the pack, gazing with a heart warming stare, eyes that would melt the goose bumps right off your arm. She attacked. Before I knew it, there was a small hand clawing at my face. My glasses were trusted toward the pavement below, and I was suddenly helpless. Immediately surrounded, the thirsty clan prepared themselves to feed on their innocent prey, the baffled tourist. I awkwardly darted for my glasses, heroically pushing a few small children down to the ground in the act, and made a run for the exit. I had won, escaping with all of my possessions in their proper place. From this point on, I kept my head down and mouth shut. If the children were this fierce, I could only imagine how intense the adults were.
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