They're watching us!

I have often mused that Venezuelans seem enamored with the United States. However their image of us seems glamorized much beyond reality. I have attributed this to movies and television. Many or most movies showing in Caracas are Hollywood products and roughly half of the cable and satellite channels feature USA movies or sitcoms with Spanish dubbed or subtitled. Even some of the local shows are knock offs of American TV shows like Wheel of Fortune and Candid Camera. Anyway this cartoon that appeared in the Caracas El Nacional Sunday magazine sort of validated my assumptions. So, we Yanks have to set a good example. They're watching us.

Pájaro del día

Monday Catherine played hooky and we took a hike in El Avila Parque Nacional. The trail head that we took is just a nine buck taxi ride from our apartment. In fact from the high point on our steep scramble we could see our apartment building with our binoculars. But, the first things we saw were several members of one of my favorite Venezuelan bird species, the Querrequerre. It is the Inca Jay in English. The Latin name is Cyanocorax yncas. These were almost tame, probably because of being fed by the hikers. You can click the picture to open a larger image.

After the hike we had a late lunch at Tarzilandia (Tarzan Land) just outside the park entrance. You enter and walk through a tropical garden menagerie with large birds, most notably three species of Macaw parrots. In the outdoor dining area it is white table cloths and waiters with tuxedos. The décor is jungle. Among the decorations were large Loggerhead turtle shells. I didn't want to think of how they got those but the restaurant has existed about the same since at least back to the 50's so I assume they were acquired legally and morally before the animal was known to be endangered. The food was great and reasonable, even considering the dollar's nose dive. We saved nine bucks coming home though by just walking down hill to the Altimira Metro stop and taking the subway free (because we're over 60) to Chacaito where it's just 15 more minutes walk to our apartment. Ahh, life is good when you are retired.

Douglasses Do Downtown

We went downtown Saturday. That doesn't sound like too big a deal but it's kind of a big deal here. Downtown Caracas is the old part of town where the offices of the federal government are located along with the Caracas city offices. Many gringos and even some Venezuelans won't go there because it is considered a bit dangerous. It is somewhat run down. It is also a stronghold for government supporters, and we all know the government position regarding the USA is that we are a bunch of dirty Yankee imperialists. I'm still not sure whether the alleged danger is more from ordinary pickpockets and street bandits looking to prey on anyone who looks like he may have a few Bolivares in his pocket or if its political animosity toward gringos. I think mostly the former.

We felt pretty safe because we were hosted by our new friend, whom I shall call Freddie (because I'm not sure he wants web publicity). He is a devout Chavista unlike most of the people we know here who are exactly the opposite. We did not see any signs of contempt or much interest expressed in us by anyone. We of course had dressed for obscurity by wearing simple drab colors and no jewelry of any market value. At Freddie's recommendation we had bathed well and put on all clean clothes before our departure because he said the locals can smell stale gringos. Freddie gave us plenty of safety warnings and had me stand guard with him behind Catherine when she made a quick photo sprint to take pictures of a dramatic wall mural that chronicled the history of Venezuela. Freddie said motorcycle bandits are skilled at purse and camera grabs. There were some places where he advised against showing the camera at all. At one point he had us abruptly change direction because he said a suspicious young man was walking too close behind us. Freddie is used to rough neighborhoods. He used to live in New York so some of his security habits may have come from that experience.

After we got off the subway in the downtown area we were confronted by a giant work of wall art. It is very common in Caracas. This example symbolizes much more than I can recall. It is notable because it shows Bolivar's beloved mistress whom he credited with being a great source of his strength.

We saw some good stuff including the Plaza Bolivar, and the presidential palace. Most of the government buildings date from colonial times. We were able to walk through the beautiful capital courtyard. We visited the Cathedral in which many important historical people are buried. The most notable by far is Simon Bolivar himself. Here's a picture of his tomb with the motionless guards armed with rifles and bayonets. Freddie said they're not just for decoration because several years ago when his ex-wife stuck her foot beyond the roped off area to get a snapshot, they came off their posts real fast to send her scurrying back. Oh, by the way, you can click the pictures to see a bigger image.

We visited the spot where the famous (or infamous, depending upon your perspective) movie "The Revolution will Not be Televised" showed some guys firing pistols into the crowd (or empty street, depending upon who you believe) in the coup attempt of April 11, 2002. There is a monument there now.

We also visited the birthplace and first home of Simon Bolivar. It is well maintained and filled with large paintings and murals illustrating important events in Venezuelan history. I have a picture here of one of the paintings that shows the abuse of the Indians by the Spanish on the left and the protection of the Indians by the Catholic Church on the right. It's looks like both sides of the picture may end up in the creation of more mestizos.

The downtown and the government buildings are undergoing some renovations. The government buildings looked great and there were some museums in historic buildings with wonderful historic paintings and narratives about Caracas and Venezuelan history. One museum was dedicated to the renovations that Caracas is doing in the area and also new public housing projects. A very sweet young red-shirted woman proudly showed us around and gave us the standard handouts. One was the pin button shown that says (translated) something like, "For love, we put a stop to the empire." We all know who the empire is. When we left she thanked us for coming and with a big warm smile said "Bye" in English.

We wound up our visit with a nice lunch at what I think was a very old restaurant in an old building. At least it seemed old compared to our own upscale ever-changing USA-emulating neighborhood of Las Mercedes. The restaurant was on an upper floor that we accessed through an elevator that looked more like a refrigerator than an elevator. Freddie warned us to keep our hands away from the door because there wasn't an inner door. The eating area was a delightful breezy balcony overlooking Bolivar Square. We were just opposite a Cathedral bell tower that chimed every 15 minutes. The bell was charming in the day time but Freddie said it would be less than charming if you were trying to sleep in the nearby hotel rooms.

So what do I think of Chavez now that I see how he and his supporters are spiffing up downtown? Well, I saw a lot of pride, hope, and energy in the downtown. Still Chavez strikes me as a bit of an impulsive, paternalistic, patronizing, populist demagogue. He hasn't succeeded widely at eradicating poverty in blighted neighborhoods like Petare, but who the hell could?! A long enduring culture of poverty is a hard habit to break. It seems that too many Venezuelans either feel he is the solution to all Venezuela's problems or that his removal by any means would be the solution to all Venezuela's problems. Perhaps he's a man of noble aspirations, astute political skills, pathological ambition, and flawed character like the Lyndon Johnson portrayed in the Robert Caras biography, only more so. Whatever, I don't think just finding the right president is going to improve a country like Venezuela or the USA. I suspect it takes a whole lot of people willing to provide leadership and work hard at all levels of government and community to eliminate corruption, improve education, clean up the environment, and achieve an enduring stable, fair, and prosperous, economy. I don't have the key to jumpstarting that.

Hobnobbing with Saudi Diplomats then Getting Bossed by the Maid

I'm doing computer housekeeping and I just found my journal entry of September 12, 2007. It predated inauguration of this blog so I didn't post it at the time.

My wife and I had an interesting evening last night (September 11). We were invited by the Saudi ambassador to a major reception commemorating Saudi Arabia's national day. My wife is his son's school librarian and several of the boy's teachers and school administrators were invited. It was in a real swanky hotel and there was food in every direction from appetizers to whole roast sheep to an endless variety of to-die-for desserts. At first I tried to eat only with my right hand but that was awkward because we were standing, holding little plates as well as our (non-alcoholic) drink glasses. Also, I soon noticed that nobody else was worried about that.

Lots of people were there from the Chavez government including the former Vice President of Venezuela. There were some American embassy people, and lots of business persons and other diplomats of various nationalities. Most of the women dressed fairly conservatively out of respect for the host but there were a couple of "over the top" (in every sense of the word) highly revealing cocktail dresses worn by a few of the Venezuelan women. We met the ambassador and several Saudi diplomats in the reception line. Generally they greeted us in Spanish and hospitably switched to English when they realized we were Americans. They were wearing those little red and white checkered head scarves and had the obligatory little mustaches and goatees. There were some other guys in robes and Santa hats who looked like the notorious blind Sheik. Most of the Arab women were wearing the full hair covering things but none were wearing veils. The ambassador's wife looked a bit more modern with some pretty bright clothes and a more moderate headscarf that allowed some hair exposure.

We had quite a long conversation with the only Chavez supporter that we know here and her husband. They're both very nice folks and revere Chavez just as much as all our other very nice Venezuelan friends despise him. There seems to be no in between.

It is interesting to see how amiably the Saudis and the Venezuelans get along seeing as the former are tee-totalers who hide their women under bags and the latter are party drinkers who glorify and display the sexuality of their women. I guess they are united by their common purpose to provide oil to the thirsty US at as high a price as possible.

The Saudis gave each guest a gift as we left. It was a large beautiful print of a Saudi Beach and a folder with material from the Saudi Ministry of Culture and Information.

Morning after now: It is maid day. That happens twice per week now but my wife still makes me wash dishes the night before. Maria, our young maid, usually has lots of questions for me and occasional assignments. She is a talented exterminator so my wife had asked her to zap the termites living in our cupboards and bar with her trusty cure-all chemical, "Vensol". That was not without complications as I have dramatized below, translating our dialogue into English.

Maria: Senor Johnny, can you fix this thing (showing me the hypodermic needle she uses to inject poison into the termite holes in our cabinets; it had a swelled and stuck rubber piston.)

I got it loosened and moving again with much friction.

Me: OK now, but you make suck much slowly. .

Maria: (later) It broke again.

Me: Oh. That sad.

Maria: What are you going to do about it?

Me: Uh

Maria: What are you going to do about it now?

Me: OK, I go pharmacy buy new one now. What it word?

Maria: Injectadora and while you're at it stop by the grocery store and buy some green plantains, potatoes, and chicken bouillon. (She's actually supposed to do the grocery shopping.)

Me: OK

Maria: Take your umbrella. It looks like it's going to rain.

Maria got the job done, even finding and harpooning one of the larva to show me. She fed me well, as usual. Yesterday's lunch was something like Beaufort stew except with chicken instead of shrimp and with a gigantic mountain of white rice. I have tried to tell her that I like her rice but that I prefer brown rice and much smaller portions. The only part that comes across is that I like her rice.

Tortuga Lodge: Naturalist Experience and Beach Paradise on a Budget

Hey! We just spent the weekend with a bunch of friends in the national park, Laguna de Tacarigua. At least I think that's the one it was. Venezuela has 43 national parks so it's hard to keep them straight. We stayed in Tortuga Lodge which cost about BsF 550 per couple or about $170. That price covers a big clean room with king size bed and private bath, three ample meals per day, and all the cokes and alcoholic drinks you want. It is right on the ocean with great surf and shady spots to repose under palm trees and large thatched roof sun shelters. You can walk on the beach for miles in either direction without encountering another human. Incredibly, for on the beach in front of the mangrove marshes, there were few mosquitoes and no no-see-ums bit me.

OK, so what's the hitch? The only minor downside was the potable water system was rather weak delivering a mere drizzle of brackish water from the sink and shower but the bottled drinking water was also part of the deal at no extra cost. I suppose finicky guests could even do a sparing post-shower rinse with it. Oh yeah, there was some lamenting that the fine new air conditioners didn't work, but personally, with the fans in the room and windows on both sides I felt well-ventilated and just comfy.

While we weren't lying around under the palms like Microsoft execs on their one weekend off per year, we were enjoying the naturalist experience. (That's naturalist with an l for all you unrefined smart alecks.) For a very reasonable price the same boatman who brought us to the lodge took us on an evening boat excursion into the mangrove areas where there was spectacular birding. The most dramatic and memorable were the scarlet ibises. We also enjoyed pelicans, storks, several species of heron, some magnificent frigate birds and a flock of white birds coming to roost that we couldn't agree on. We ruled out white ibises because of the beak shape. A retrospective review of my Steven Hilty book suggests cattle egret to me. The beak shape looks right and they live in the area. Perhaps some of my SCAN organization friends can tell me. They are in the roosting pictures along with the scarlet ibises and the cormorants. I regret there are no good close-ups. You can click on the pictures to blow them up to a larger size.

My Edisto Island friends will be pleased to know that the beach there is a protected nesting area for loggerhead turtles. The bar tender at the lodge remarked on my Edisto Interpretive Center T-shirt with the loggerhead turtle pictures. He recognized them as loggerheads immediately and found it rather remarkable and uplifting that someone from so far away also lived on a loggerhead nesting beach and was a volunteer in loggerhead protection. He said you can go to jail if you mess with the nests here. That was good to hear in this country where you can generally get away with anything.

From the Sublime to the Ridiculous: Beach Paradise to Caracas Barrio

Following a weekend of paradise, alternately swimming in the surf and lying around like royalty under palm-thatched sun shelters drinking cold caipiriñas, we went home. Dang! I hate that. Entering Caracas from the east the first big thing you drive through is the Petare barrio. I think barrio just means neighborhood in some Spanish-speaking countries but in Venezuela, it means slum. The US Embassy and other rumor spreaders claim that most of the approximately 65 homicides in Caracas on an average weekend occur in the barrios. Petare is one of the biggest and the worst. I never know where truth ends and legend begins in this country but our friends' sweet and wonderful maid lives in Petare. She sometimes is unable to get to work because she's hunkered down in her house ducking a flare up of street violence. A few weeks ago her nephew was murdered there.

Although my cultural enrichment-craving wife is dying to visit a squalid barrio, I hope to steer clear of them. I prefer instead to keep them as romantic fantasies in my mind like pirate ships. Zooming past one at 100 km per hour on the autopista, while taking snapshots out the window, is plenty close enough for me. I am peppering a few of the snapshots in this blog post.

Being an engineer (retired emeritus) and not a sociologist, I am most interested in the structure and infrastructure of the barrios. In a word, it's scary! Around Caracas they are built on prime view property, i.e. perilously steep hills. They ain't exactly geotechnically engineered for this kind of terrain. In fact, we are told they are all squatters' habitations and sometimes wash away in the wet season. There seems to be a lot of public land in Venezuela and poor people are prone to just find a piece of it, get some of the hollow extruded clay tiles that Venezuela is made of, slap 'em together with some mortar, then presto…a house. If the bare land is all taken up, they may just build their house on top of someone else's…literally! We just heard the other day that someone's maid was agitated because someone else was building a house on her roof.

I don't know a whole lot about how the utilities work in the barrios. I don't think the plumbing is pretty but I can at least testify that by dusk they are twinkling with the light of modern efficient screw-in compact fluorescent lights. Charles Hardy, a Wyoming native and former Catholic priest actually lived in a very impoverished barrio ministering to the occupants during the early years of Chavez' administration. He reports on life and infrastructure there in his book "Cowboy in Caracas". See http://www.cowboyincaracas.com/. His description of the habitations that he and his neighbors lived in was even more dismal than what you see in the photos. He says they were desperation shelters provided by a former "benevolent" right wing leader, consisting of cardboard walls with tin roofs. The bathroom was wherever the lowest corner of the concrete floor was so you could take a whiz and it would run outside under the crack between the wall and the floor. You did your number 2 on a newspaper then discretely took it outside and set it across the road to wash away (wherever away is) in the next rain. Somebody brought drinking water in on a truck that didn't always arrive. I don't think it is an exaggeration to say that Charlie is a fervent believer in Chavez as a positive instrument of beneficial social change. I can agree with Presidente Chavez that his predecessors were corrupt right wing oligarch's and that his arch-enemy George Bush is an arrogant belligerent imperialist doophus. However, Charlie has a long way to go to convince me that Chavez has the intellectual capability and the genuine commitment to bring long term prosperity, stability, democracy, and an end to corruption and poverty. But, hey! I like the energy-saving screw-in fluorescents.