Democracy without coffee

On Sunday 23rd November Venezuela voted. Alina told me that I should stay inside the house all weekend and she started to stock up on water and toilet paper in case the country went into crisis; slightly unnecessary precautions on all counts. The media in Britain and the United States have portrayed the results of these local and regional elections as a victory for the opposition, who gained key positions in the capital Caracas, Miranda State, Nueva Esparta and Tachira. However, in reality although the opposition did have some success the population here still voted overwhelmingly for the revolution. Defying expectations and despite increased criticism of President Chavez and his party PSUV, Venezuelan’s are still confident that this socialist experiment has a future and they are still investing their hopes in 21st century socialism. Some critics believe that an interventionist policy is required in order to oust this “crazy” dictator, but whatever your view on President Chavez you cannot question his legitimacy; these elections were free and democratic, with some polling stations staying open late into the night if there were long queues so that everyone could exercise their democratic right. The Venezuelan people chose to put their faith in Hugo Chavez almost a decade ago and it will be the Venezuelan people who will decide when they want change, but for the moment this country is still painted red.

I spent the Sunday of the elections in nearby town Cumarebo and went to the voting centre with my friends. There was a fantastic festive atmosphere with everyone out in the streets; both Chavistas and opposition side by side with no threat of conflict. The polling stations were vigilantly controlled by the National Guard who were a forceful but encouraging presence. The queues to vote were incredible; my friends waited four hours. I find this incredible; in Britain many people of my generation don’t bother to vote because they have no interest in politics, yet here two 24 year olds waited patiently in line in order to have their say. “If I don’t bother to vote then I have no right to comment on politics,” my friend told me, which here in Venezuela means that you would be excluded from most conversations! Unfortunately I awoke the next morning to fireworks being set off across the town, which I at first thought were gun shots! The opposition candidate for mayor had beaten the Chavista candidate who had held the position for the past few years. Fights broke out in the square and bottles were thrown. I stayed inside with my tea and paper! The difference was only 50 votes, so a recount was demanded and the Chavista candidate won eventually; the same mayor I mentioned in my last post who I met a few weeks ago who is apparently an alcoholic! However, across the entire country there were only 106 arrests due to violence or interference with voting materials. Some 66% of the population voted, the highest turn-out in non Presidential elections and certainly one of the highest rates of voter participation on the continent, if not the world. Most impressive for me was the automatic computerised voting system which has been widely praised as one of the most advanced and accurate in the world. There is certainly room for improvement with regards to reducing the queues to vote and having more machines on standby to replace those that malfunction, but from a democratic perspective and from everything I witnessed that Sunday these elections were transparent, free and fair. However, there are still some teething problems with this version of socialism…we haven’t been able to buy coffee anywhere in the city for over a week. If I can’t wake up in the morning without my cup of coffee how can an entire country function without caffeine?

It’s illegal to drink on Election Day in Venezuela, but my friend owns a Tasca and it was his birthday so we locked up the front doors and everyone came in via the back entrance and we had a private party! There were almost 100 people in there by midnight. My friends are in a band and they played so we even had live music all night…they dedicated a Beatles song to me. I tried a local rum called Culebra, which looks a lot like cloudy toilet water and has a dead snake in the bottom of the bottle! If you try not to look at the rotten reptile whose juices you’re drinking and try not to think about how long ago it was alive you can just about not throw up. Apparently it has curative qualities…I can safely say I felt worse not better.

Political observation, conversation and contemplation takes up a lot of time for your average Venezuelan, but I have had time for other things! In other news…I went camping in the Sierra de San Luis, a National Park up in the mountains. A friend is writing a thesis on how the local communities can adapt to tourism whilst still protecting the natural environment there. The night was spent playing guitar under the stars with the neighbours, one of whom was a local author who gave me a signed copy of his latest book and another who apparently cooks the best soup in the Sierra – I was convinced as it was delicious. I also met my first tarantula, three in fact, all worryingly close to my tent! The next day we went exploring and bathed in a natural spring next to a ravine, it was absolutely freezing. From there we saw the most incredible view right down to the city, the lake that supplies most of Falcon state, the Peninsula and out to sea we could even make out Aruba. Neither photos nor words can ever do it justice - it was breath taking. We hitched a lift back to Coro in the back of a pickup truck along with a man called Freddy who was drinking rum from a coke can and insisted I take his photo because he’s never been “pictured” before! (see photo)

At the university there was an English festival and I was asked to be the presenter. It was a really fantastic event and so rewarding to see my students performing plays, songs, poems or reading stories. There were judges and prizes were awarded to the best student in each level. At the end the students did a surprise thank you presentation for the teachers and it almost brought a tear my eye!

Yesterday I helped Lorena and Pipo decorate the Christmas tree, which made me feel very festive, especially seeing how excited Pipo was that this year he could finally reach to put the angel on top. The Christmas lights were turned on in town last week and there was a big street party with everyone dancing until the early hours. My salsa and meringue are greatly improving; I appear to be treading on fewer Venezuelan feet, which is always a good start. Strictly Come Dancing 2009 watch out!

Matt is flying out to join me next week when I finish teaching and we’re going to travel around the country for a month over Christmas - I’m very excited! So far our plans include mountain biking in the Andes, Christmas day on a Caribbean beach in Mochima and waking up on New Year’s Day in a hammock opposite Angel Falls plus many more adventures…until the money runs out and he returns to England and me to Coro!

Redefining libraries and bars

Teaching has finally begun; in fact I’m almost into my fourth week now. I’m really enjoying it so far although it is certainly proving to be a challenge due to the lack of resources and poor access to materials. It is actually quite shocking and sometimes extremely frustrating. For example the “library” on the literature and education campus consists of four shelves in the corner of a large room, mostly with books on civil engineering. However when you come away from a really fantastic class there’s a real sense of achievement, it’s almost addictive and I can see why people do it for living, (as oppose to an excuse for travelling Latin America!)

A few classroom highlights:

Lesson 1: Somehow I ended up explaining the rules of cricket. I apologise in advance for the gross discredit this may have done to the sport. With the aid of some atrocious stick men and flamboyant acting I think they got the general idea…however I then endeavoured to explain the intricacies of test series and one day internationals and it all went downhill from there.

Lesson 2: There was a power cut, in a classroom with no windows; me versus 50 students. My reading activity was a no go, they were restless and hungry, so quick improvisation resulted in a game of Chinese whispers. “But why are they Chinese….” I don’t bloody know just pass the message on!

Lesson 3: Discussing “problems young people face” we brainstorming ideas on the board; drugs, teenage pregnancy etc. A boy shouts out conduct, as in behaviour. Due to his mispronunciation I heard condom and wrote this on the board, due to everyone’s amusement. I am then asked if this is a sex education class and will there be a practical?!

On the extracurricular front things have also been equally exciting. In order for my blog to be fully informative it was necessary for me to visit the clubs and bars that Coro has to offer – on Thursdays girls don’t pay! I approve. I have spent the last two weekends in Cumarebo which is a little fishing village on the coast about twenty minutes away, where some friends live. Waking up to a view of the clear blue Caribbean Sea only three streets away is pretty hard to beat. The boys decided to take me on some “adventure tourism” which involved a very ancient Ford Dodge with no windows or seats and a trip up to the mountains that dominate the coastline. We hiked up a hill to see the Colombiana Cross at the top which was put there, as legend has it, because on that crest the devil once appeared and the cross protects the village in case he returns. We bathed in a natural pool and I saw a spider as big as my hand. After stopping for some refreshment in a rural shack that had gallantly been labelled a “bar,” we continued on. We climbed on to the roof of an old blue and white colonial church in this tiny village and from there saw the most spectacular view: the lush green rainforest of the mountains contrasting beautifully with the crystalline blue sea in the distance and the landscape peppered with colourful towns. Every village was named after a different saint. My friend’s parents live right by the beach, a little secluded bay that no one else knows about. We went at night and when we turned the torch off all we could see were the millions of stars above us, the lights of the town twinkling in the distance behind us and the occasional sharp flash of clarity from the lightening of a storm out at sea. We went swimming and the sea and the sky seemed to join in a warm blackness in front of us, it felt like you were diving out into the universe every time you jumped a wave, which made me feel very small and very alive all at once…it was one of those unforgettable moments.

The local and regional elections take place on 23rd November and although Commandante Chavez’s position as President is not under threat, it’s going to be a huge event. Politics infiltrates every aspect of life here. You can’t even wear a red t-shirt without being labelled a Chavista. He’s a bit like Marmite – love him or hate him. He unites and divides. A friend works for local government, supporting the socialist missions. I attended a rally he was working at last week. On first appearances it looked like a summer village fete with cheap food being sold, live music and games for children; a second look and you see the soldiers holding back the crazed mothers trying to grab the most free flour and milk, the wheelchairs and prams given out in exchange for loyalty, and the face paint on the children buying the votes of the future. I’ve had many a debate with my friend and in truth I respect both sides of the argument. Peel away the corners of the media portrait and you can see the positive intentions of 21st socialism, but there are many who believe the President holds too much power and that the next step is Communism. For example electricity has been nationalised and last week our house was without it for two days! However I did meet the mayor at the rally who told me I had beautiful eyes – he’s got my vote!

On the domestic front I somehow managed to explain algebraic equations to Lorena, the 12 year old daughter of the family I live with, in Spanish. For those of you who are acquainted with my questionable numeric ability, you will understand that this was possibly my greatest achievement so far! The second being finding some Cadbury’s chocolate, which cost me a small fortune, but well worth the effort for a taste of home, all I needed was some PG Tips to dip it in. I hope November isn’t too gloomy at home, I do think of you all when I’m lying on the beach in 30 degree sunshine…!

The story so far...flooding and powercuts but beer is 30p!

Hello everyone!

So this is my blog, coming to you direct from Venezuela…I’ve been here for 3 weeks now so I thought it was probably about time I filled you all in on the adventure so far. I left England on September 30th, my 21st birthday and flew via Frankfurt to Caracas. On the journey across the Atlantic I sat next to a lovely Venezuelan lady from Maracay called Karmen who had given me her number and invited me to stay before we had even taken off, kindly adding that she has two sons in their twenties who “really like European girls!” Her main advice to me was “Trust no one!”

The taxi ride into Caracas from the airport was incredible and the heat immense. A coastal road and then through lush rainforest hills before entering a tunnel. When you come out the other side you can see the city sprawling before you. The favelas (slums) in the barrios are made of corrugated iron painted in bright colours and they cling precariously to the sides of the hills underneath enormous advertisements for Pepsi…the irony was unmistakeable. As we drew closer to the centre there were boys standing in the middle of the 3 lane highway trying to sell water and snacks, literally dodging cars, which is quite a feat if you could see the insane way Venezuelans drive (there is no speed limit.) There was also a man juggling at the zebra crossing.

We arrived at our hotel the Cumberland (sausage!) The hotel itself was really quite posh, minus hot water. I haven’t had a hot shower since I arrived! British Council offices were next door so we went along for some dinner – Dominos pizza of course! The following few days consisted of various teacher training classes, briefings and organising travel arrangements to our various cities. I also went to buy a Venezuelan sim card…the process took about an hour and I even had to give my fingerprints! They are very keen on ID control here – every time you buy something, even just some chewing gum, you are required to give your name and passport number! Took a cable car up to El Avila, a mountain that towers over the city. We were literally in the clouds – I saw a hummingbird and a moth as big as my head. A few cheeky beers were had in a bar called OVNI which means UFO (!) and we made friends with a very drunk man who had learnt all his English from “rock and roll man!” A representative from the British Embassy came and gave us a lovely information pack including precautions to take in order to avoid getting shot! ie. Do exactly what the man with the gun tells you. Useful.

My bus to Coro, the city where I am living, was an overnighter that took about 6 hours. The bus itself was surprisingly comfy and the seats went right back into beds. The bus station in Caracas was a pretty hairy experience to say the least and I was quite nervous as I had all my belongings and a lot of money strapped around my waist under my clothes. The one thing about these secret money belts is that they’re all well and good but as soon as you actually need to get your passport/cards/money out you have to perform an interesting but subtle striptease which inevitably involves baring midriff at unsuspecting Venezuelans. Subtle and not very secret.

Arrived in Coro in at about 4 am, earlier than expected. Not wanting to wait around with the rabid dogs I rang the only number I had been given as I didn’t even know if I had a place to stay. I woke the poor bloke up and he asked why I couldn’t have got a bus during the day! He picked me up and took me to the house where I would be staying. I live with the Benitez family. They’re actually Cuban and moved here about 9 years ago as the father works in television and the industry was being repressed by Castro’s regime. Unfortunately the first thing he told me was that Venezuela is a “country in crisis” and heading the same way. Alina his wife is a feisty, rather emotional latina lady who shouts at everyone but is never actually cross and has a breakdown every time it rains. However she cooks like a goddess. The two children Lorena, 12 and Pipo, 6 treat me like a big sister and I have spent a lot of time sharing my knowledge on Britney Spears with Lorena (Did she really shave her head?) and playing Spider Man with Pipo. The house is in a great location – city centre. I have my own room and bathroom (with friendly cockroach who is now dead) and a key to come and go when I please. They all seem to believe that every English person drinks tea at 5 in the afternoon every day. I have not dispelled the myth and this has now become a family ritual. (Photo is Coro by night taken from friends apartment balcony. In the distance you can see Los Médanos, the sandy desert just before the sea.)

Coro itself is beautiful from what I have seen so far. Unfortunately the weather has impeded my explorations-apparently it hasn’t rained like this here for 50 years. Hurricane Omar paid a brief visit last week and the whole town flooded, trees fell and the Peninsula an hour North was completely cut off from the mainland. Upstairs where the family live also flooded due to leaky roof and there was a power cut (a frequent occurrence whenever it rains) so we all crowded round the kitchen table with candles, cookies and a very long game of Monopoly, which I won! The main street here is full of bustling stalls selling rip off pirate dvds, plastic shoes and interesting “fashion” accessries. They love their fried food, including specialties such as arepas, empanadas and tequenos, all terribly awful for you, but surprisingly delicious. The old colonial quarter is about 5 mins walk away and they have preserved it very well. Now a UNESCO world heritage site it contains the oldest church in South America, next to the plaza where the first mass on the continent took place in 1528. The architecture is beautiful and Simon Bolivar, the Liberator and national hero here also stayed in some of the buildings.

With regard to teaching…I still haven’t actually started! Due to lack or organisation, too many students wanting to enrol, teachers striking over lack of government funding and hurricane warnings classes keep being suspended, which has been quite frustrating. However, in true South American style I’m not letting it bother me! Apparently I start on this afternoon, but I’m not holding my breath. On the plus side it has meant that I’ve been able to settle down and get to know the town. I even managed to get in the local paper - I went to watch the theatre groups prize giving ceremony and there's a photo of me watching. We then went to a bar which was outside with wicker furniture and palm trees and many a young man wanting to “teach me how to dance salsa!” Yesterday I went out to another bar and discovered that bottled beer here costs 30p! It's cheaper than water.

Funny story – I went to open a bank account. This process from start to finish took about 3 hours. The end result was hilarious. They misunderstood my passport, so on my debit card and on their database my nationality is Bewers and my name is Kelly Citizen British! Apparently this doesn’t matter, which I find even more amusing. Supermarkets are also a blast – never any bread but shelf loads of washing powder and queues that last forever. Taxis are insane – old beat up 1950’s Chevrolets with the doors hanging off and no rear-view mirrors – great fun.

Sometimes it is difficult because I am the only white person in the town so having blonde hair and blue eyes attracts a lot of attention, not always positive. Some people (usually old men) call me beautiful catira, an affectionate term for a blonde, others call me ugly gringo! However, as some friends have explained it's because I'm different, they don't know how to react and mostly they think I'm American. So I make it my utmost priority to introduce myself as a nice British girl!

I hope all is well back in Blightly and I'll update you all again soon. This is a photo of me at the Art Museum, another colonial building from the 16th century...we drank chanpagne on the balcony!