Through the good-bye tears in Connecticut, Ana Maria invited me to come to
Venezuela to visit her and her family that summer. Since I was in a graduate
program for Latin American and Caribbean Studies, I jumped at any chance I had
to travel to the region. Top that with a big dollop of fresh and
fun friendship, and it was impossible to say no.
It was a changing time in Venezuela. The presidential elections
were just around the corner, and one of the candidates, Hugo Chavez, was making
waves. Crime was high, and most people I met had been robbed at gunpoint at
least once. One of Ana Maria’s friends had been robbed, then thrown in the
trunk of a car and left somewhere outside of his city – alive thankfully. But
still ... holy crap!
Since Ana Maria had to work most days, I went with her
back to her office after lunchtime. Lunch breaks outside the U.S. are the way
lunch breaks should be: substantially long. She had enough time to drive all
the way home, have a nice lunch, and even rest a little before being expected
back at the office. I would return with her, and then venture to el Museo de Bellas Artes (Fine Arts Museum). I explored the museum,
and also really enjoyed an afternoon snack of torta tres leches (three milk cake) y
un café venezolano (strong-ass Venezuelan coffee; "espresso" to us North Americans) in the cute museum cafe
with counter seating.
Initially, I didn’t do much more than that the first few
days. And I started to get antsy. I wanted to explore more. But my hosts were
afraid for my safety – a reasonable fear, although I did not share it at the
same level. I was a giddy traveler, eager to explore and see everything and
anything. My brain had no room for fear.
To alleviate the ants in my pants, Ana Maria’s parents took
me to a nearby town one afternoon: Colonia Tovar, Germany ... er, I mean
Venezuela. It just looks like a European town. Alpine-style buildings lining
the hilly streets. Many blonde, blue-eyed people who are not tourists or
transplants. Colonia Tovar was settled by Germans in 1843 and the obvious
influence is why the town is such a tourist attraction and why it is called
“the Germany of the Caribbean.” I don’t recall there being much for this
vegetarian to eat in Colonia Tovar at the time, which was unfortunate. But even more
unfortunate were the dead pigs hanging from meat hooks in a cafe where we stopped.
Let’s just say it was not as enjoyable for me as was the architecture you can
see here. Ana Maria’s parents evidently still make fun of me for my reaction to the aforementioned lunchmeat situation. Ha ha.
So funny.
Another day I insisted on going back to El Hatillo, a cute
part of Caracas Ana Maria had taken me to earlier. I told her I would take a
bus -- I was determined to go. But because of the safety issues,
she took me herself at lunchtime and arranged to have her friend pick me up
later in the day. I wandered the quaint and colorful streets, shopped in some
local stores, and relaxed in a cafe overlooking the town square. When AnaMa’s
friend Barbara got there, she found me in a large store filled with locally
made ceramic espresso cup sets. I spent an exorbitant amount of time there, trying to
find something for myself. I finally decided on a set of four little light
blue espresso cups, with a little light blue creamer and a little light blue sugar bowl that fit on a
little dark wood tray. All little for the little amount of Venezuelan coffee necessary
to keep you up for approximately 18 hours straight.
Ana Maria also took me on some road trips. We went to Puerto
La Cruz, a beach town east of Caracas. We stayed with one of her friends and
took a water taxi to a nearby island to enjoy the sun and sand. We also drove
to Isla de Plata, on a windy road that brought us to a port town where we took
a boat to a secluded island beach. Beautiful white sand, turquoise water, cute
local kids running around, playing soccer in the sand. And yes, I have photos.
Unfortunately, like most of my travel photos before the digital age, they are
all in storage (sorry). And also unfortunate is the fact that I cannot find a
thing online about this place, so no mini-geography lesson either. I honestly
have no idea where the heck Isla de Plata in Venezuela is (do you?). But it is
lovely. And we had a lot of fun road tripping and relaxing by the sea.
I was fascinated with Caracas, the nearby beaches, the
beautiful mountains, the German town, the beach towns. The coffee was amazing
(and eye opening as I previously mentioned), the people were nice, the weather was
great, and it was impossible for me to feel scared or threatened. Of course, I
was cautious (always am – read here and here). But one thing is sure, no one knew at
that time how severely Venezuela would change in just a few short months.
After that trip, Ana Maria and I stayed in touch, some times
more often than others. Shortly after Chavez became El Presidente, she moved to
Spain. And she’s been there ever since. And no, Part 4 will not be about me
visiting Spain, because that unfortunately has not happened yet.
But do stay tuned ...
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