Unlike
its neighbour Colombia which oozes in colourful colonial charm, Venezuela's
buildings are a dull, tattered kind of modern.
Fighting
through my initial disenchantment, I realised I'd been looking in the wrong
place. Turns out the magic wasn't the street itself, but in the cars passing
through it. Old, beat-up cars - or let's face it - pure shitboxes - were
traipsing through the streets. I was surrounded by a patchwork of parts, broken
indicators and masking tape where glass windows once were.
Cars
that should have either been glorified in museums or retired in wrecking yards
(I'm not sure which) were somehow still active, en masse, in
Venezuela. There are more bombs than there are cars made in the last 10 years.
Often
upon questioning the roadworthiness of a car, there'd be a 'TAXI' sticker on
the windshield. Still good then, I guess.
Were I a
vintage car aficionado, I would have probably been frothing at the mouth.
I sorely
wish I could have taken more photos than their political situation would safely
permit me. Which brings me to my next point. Without getting carried away and
turning this post into an essay on the political situation in Venezuela (I'll
leave you to Google it in your own time) - let's just say they're going through
a lot.
Things are so dire that basic medicine and supermarket
goods like toilet paper and cooking oil have become scarce (read
more). People will queue for hours at a stall
selling a single product no longer available in the shops. All of a sudden
their grocery run has turned into a days-long ordeal lining up at numerous
stalls in order to gather just some of what they need.
Go to a
restaurant, and menus are a graveyard of things that used to be served - as
waiters reel off the handful of dishes you really have to choose from.
I even
went to McDonalds for the first time in Venezuela - and they had "run
out" of chicken, hot chips and Coca-Cola.
What is
available, is expensive - driven up by inflation and a double exchange rate.
1. The official currency
This is
what you'll get by taking money out of an ATM, making a card transaction or
going through a legitimate, authorised money exchange vendor.
$1US = 7
Bolivars
2. The black market currency
This is
what you'll get by exchanging US notes at the border crossings from men (shall
we call them freelancers?) competing against each other to bring you the most
competitive black market rate.
$1US =
110-150 Bolivars
This is
great for tourists, but wreaks havoc of the national economy. Prices are
adjusted somewhere between the official and black market rates - which still
work out to be expensive for locals.
This
makes tourists extremely high targets for theft - and flashing one's smartphone
or digital/SLR camera around doesn't exactly deter that. We've been encouraged
not to wear expensive looking clothes, watches or jewellery.
"If a hotel worker sees your
camera lying around, they're probably going to take it so they can sell it. But
can you really blame them?" - Venezuelan tour guide
Of all the things I came to witness, the most heartbreaking
would have to be at the Colombia-Venezuela border crossing. In a country where
petrol is cheaper than bottled water, boys as young as 6 years-old were
siphoning fuel from Venezuelan cars to sell in Colombia at significant profit (read more).
As one
of the world leaders in oil production - Venezuela should, in theory, be a
thriving nation - not a starving one. However, years of mismanagement has
landed them in a difficult situation… it will be interesting to see how they
get out.
Next
stop: Brazil.
I was
lucky enough to try out the Coromoto ice-cream parlour in Merida.
Currently
holds the Guinness World Record for offering the most flavours (more than 850).
Christmas
at Playa Grande, Choroní.
Nearly
x20 higher than Niagra Falls.
