In Kenya I’d hear these stories everyday.  So and so got robbed, car jacked, able to drive away with bullet holes in the left side.  Even Rhodia Mann, founder of Kazuri beads, who is about as independent as Kenya’s old Anglo’s come, is conscious of crime.  At a ladies luncheon she recounted hilariously awkward customs altercations involving an inflatable male doll (bought at a London sex shop) which she’d bought to put in her passenger seat, an attack deterrent for a single woman driving alone late at night.  The expat ladies erupted in raucous laughter; middle-aged women love to laugh at sex.  A big, white, blow-up man to keep a white woman safe when she’s alone in the car at night; that’s probably not the only thing about him that’s big.  I wonder what a would-be rapist would think if he dared a car jack and discovered that the rape deterrent was merely an inflatable sex doll.  It might later be a funny story for him also.  But, for different reasons and not recounted over cucumber sandwiches and tea.