The boundaries of our place on the map expand with time, but growth and more than that, its organization, cannot be left to chance. Displacements from the countryside or from more distant provinces, in the practice of the freedom of any citizen, explain what we call ‘invasions’ and which have their own history: the appropriation of land that governments legalize, given their height and age.

Since their existence, cities have intertwined their streets and their inhabitants, having minority-preferred cores, second-class neighborhoods, and suburban or suburban sectors, each sector cultivating an emotional relationship with the people who inhabit them. The novels that led us through the Guayaquil portals, the promenades open to the river, the line of cocoa trees were eloquent. Rich families settled on October 9 Boulevard and its surroundings, and at the beginning of the 20th century, Olmedo Avenue was the ‘natural’ demarcation of the poorer part, the well-known Astillero district.

“We want to get out of this order and I’m sure we will do it,” says the governor of Guayaquil’s position as one of the most violent cities in the world

A teacher reported missing in Guayaquil was found scopolinated

I have already said that I had a happy neighborly life in the apartment on Eloy Alfaro Street. From the window I appreciated the movement of the school, the passing of public transport, the bustle of very respectable families who used it because owning a vehicle was not part of the aspirations of the middle class. The two-way street was rarely used and I never saw or heard of any traffic accidents. My school bus would pick me up on the corner and I would walk up and down with my typewriter without anyone alerting me to the theft. Within the group of cyclists, fun was frequent.

26 violent deaths were registered in Guayaquil, Durán and Samborondón during weekends and holidays

Active life was concentrated in the ‘centre’: there was a dentist, fabric shops, the Calero building for shoes, the huge Casa Tosi for all needs. Walking the streets hand in hand with my mother always had a taste of adventure and allowed me to meet the people she stopped to talk to. That heart of the city beats in my memories as a welcoming, orderly and clean environment. My emotional ties to Guayaquil were maintained on that platform.

(…) he tore the chain from my neck. And the sense of danger took root forever.

Today we are talking about the city, the habitat into which I ventured from the car, therefore, with a sense of spaciousness and exploration. The city was growing, but it was at my fingertips, without a schedule; University life developed not only in classrooms but also in exhibition halls, cinemas and theaters. My work also had cultural touches, celebrations. Until – fifteen years after these warm memories – a man put his hand through the window opening and tore the chain from my neck. And the sense of danger took root forever. Since then, all kinds of care and advice have been thrown out. As street crime grew, citizens began to create ways to defend themselves: travel with locked doors, put protective sheets on windows, do not explore certain directions, do not walk outside of these times; mistrust of cars with male passengers, suspicion of every motorcycle that comes our way, abandonment of some neighborhoods, sublimation of the possibility of living in closed citadels.

Everyday life has become a struggle. The word city is loud, but most of us are helpless. (OR)