When’s the last time you thought about your safety before walking outside?

Most of us wouldn’t think twice. Generally, we feel safe and secure and know that we’ll probably leave our comfortable homes and return to them without any problems.

How lucky are we?

I’ve traveled to cities that have been deemed ‘unsafe,’ usually due to media sensationalization or freak stories that happen to 1 percent of the population. I’ve learned not to believe what Lonely Planet tells you, because in places like Cambodia and South Africa, I’ve never felt safer.

Yet in all those times, I’ve never had locals tell me not to walk around or leave the confines of the hostel. I’ve never had to take a 30 second taxi ride just so my groceries wouldn’t get stolen. I’ve never seen security guards holding machine guns outside every store on the block.

And then I came to Managua.

Nicaragua is the safest country in Central America. There may be people who read this, having been here, and think I’m way out of line. We’ve been here for two weeks and have only had one semi-dangerous experience, so maybe I am.

But being in Managua has made me think about the safety and comfort we take for granted at home.

With travel comes the expectation that you will be treated like a “foreigner.” Stares? Sure. People are curious about those who look different from them. The frustration of paying too much “gringo tax?” This isn’t our first rodeo; we expected that too. A few rude comments here and there? Fine, we understand machismo is a part of the culture.

But our experience here has been sadly unnerving. We follow the rules the locals have suggested — we only walk around in a five-block radius.

Yet during the majority of the five minute walk to the grocery store, we get hissed at, whistled at, and name-called. We dress conservatively, keep our heads down, and don’t speak English.

It’s an eye-opener. How lucky I am.

I’ll eventually go home to the comforts of my own home, and I’ll feel, well, safe. I’m not one of the millions of people all over the world who constantly live with the fear of theft, assault, or worse.

While this hasn’t been one of the more enjoyable cities I’ve come to know, that’s part of travel, too: learning about the lives of others, and in turn, learning about your own. {r}