This carried on from childhood, because the police came to your elementary school, your middle school, and your high school, either to educate you on what they do, or instruct you how to properly deal with emergencies. If you dialed the proper number (911, 999, 112) depending in what country you lived, the closest radio car would be sent to you within minutes. You were not afraid to dial that number.
Recently, in the center of Riga, an 86-year old woman heard that someone was trying to break into her front door. This was at about 7 p.m. and being a Latvian-American, educated in the international system, she immediately dialed 02 for emergency police help, because that's the way she had been taught to do.
"What region do you live in?" asked the dispatcher. "I live at Stabu Street, number" said the lady. "No, I don't want the address. I need to know the region where you reside," snapped the dispatcher.
"Well, it's only 100 meters from Latvian Secret Police headquarters, also on Stabu," said the caller. "Formerly KGB headquarters. You probably know it as the Corner House."
"Oh, I guess that would be the Center Region." "Just send the police," said the lady, whose unwelcome guests outside were now incessantly ringing the doorbell and trying to force the latch open. A half hour later two officers from the Latvian National Police arrived and said, "So, where are the intruders?"
Well, by that time, determining that there was no easy access to the apartment, the burglars had gone. In that half an hour they had decided to go for easier pickings.
The 86-year old woman said that the two policemen immediately became aggressive toward her. "Why do you (collectively) continue to stalk us?" asked the policeman with the black beret on his head, when finding out that the burglars were gone and there was no one to hand cuff.
"Stalk? I'm not trying to stalk you or anyone," said the lady. "I'm only reporting a crime."
Unfazed, the cop went on, "This is impossible to take! You are driving us out of our minds with this kind of behavior by calling us all the time on fake pretenses."
"What have I done, but only the right thing, in calling the police when someone is trying to break into my apartment," said the old woman.
With a shrug, the two policemen started to leave, when one of them, still angry, pointed his finger at her and said, "You will be responsible for this. You will be responsible for our time and our gasoline for the call-out."
Since the burglars had turned off all the lights in the stairway, the lady kindly asked them that on the way out, would they turn them on two floors below.
"What do we look like? Do we look like apartment caretakers?" Snapped the policeman in the black beret. Then they left without turning on the lights in the stairway.
This is not an isolated incident in Riga, or in Latvia. People are actually afraid to call the police - for anything. A recent poll among Latvians showed that more than 60 percent would call their best friend, or at least a friend, for immediate help, rather than the Latvian Police.
A leading psychiatrist in Riga said that to his knowledge police are given very little if no training in the psychological aspects of talking to, or calming down victims of attack or robbery and burglary.
"They just don't care how the victim feels. Rape is the worst. It's as if the woman is at fault."
Why? The answers were that police were unreliable, and once they arrived, they were uncooperative, or brutal, as if someone had disturbed their nap.
"Latvia has much to learn in getting their people to trust the police organization," said a Western diplomat stationed in Riga. "Not only that, but even more so, Latvian law enforcement authorities have even more to learn how to deal with citizens in trouble and in distress."
A high-ranking source in the Latvian Criminal Police investigations division, said, "Sadly, that's the way it is. If this old lady hands in a complaint against the two officers who slandered her, it will go before a police review board.
"What will happen next is quite simple. The lady will have filled out her complaint. The two officers will hand in their counter-complaint. That will say, 'We tried to quiet the old grandmother as much as we could and we told her that at any time she feels that someone is breaking into her apartment, please, please don't hesitate to call the police. We will be there as soon as possible.'"
"Guess who'll win?" said the Latvian Criminal Police source. Meanwhile, some times when I drive out to my country house in the summer, at one turn-off there is usually a cop car parked alongside of the road at a specified place. It doesn't matter how fast or slow I'm going, but the fat cop with the mustache stumbles out and waves me down with his baton.
By now, I don't even ask any questions. Neither does he. I roll down my window and hand him 5 lats (about $8.60).
Fair? Sure. I don't want him to take my driver's license away 150 kilometers from Riga and have to drive that distance the next day to pick it up after I've paid the official fine. It will cost me more in time and gasoline.
The first time, when I questioned him, he said, "Look, don't worry. I'll find something wrong with your car. Lights. Bumpers. Anything. Now it's lunch time and we're hungry and we need 5 lats."
So be it.
Emil Sveilis is a former foreign correspondent for United Press International currently living in Latvia
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