On My Self Defense Kit

My friend, Sam (aka Ruthie), is an ER doctor in Flint, Michigan.  Flint is probably one of the most depressed and sketchy places I know of in the US.  It's going no where fast.  I'm not sure anything has changed since Michael Moore's Roger and Me.  Ruthie sees repeat gun shot wounds, junkies, drunks, and crazy/dangerous people walk through her door every day.

And she's worried about me.  

Let's be clear: Haiti is a dangerous place for Haitians.  There are kidnappers and armed burglars and gangs in the slums and cholera and  electoral violence.  But I am an expat with access to clean water and I keep my head down.  I am very careful and haven't felt the little hairs on the back of my neck go up in a long time.

Nevertheless, Ruthie is concerned about my lack of Mace, a gun, a machete, throwing stars, or any other implement of defense.  She told me she would be sending me something to redress the situation.  I received this: