A silent cry for hope



1946 -Tree of hope- by Frida Kahlo

 Caracas, Venezuela November 9th, 2010

This week I am in Caracas again for work. It has been exactly one year since my last visit, and the feeling of uncertainty, insecurity and hopelessness is even greater. People's attitude is decaying; there's no spirit of service in hotels, airports, taxi drivers. They are just doing a job not trying to be better; as if there's nothing more.

The few priviledged ones willing to play the game a so call socialist government dictates are investing in huge hotels, luxury restaurants, fancy car dealerships (A Land Rover average price in Venezuela is 300K USD). A 28-story brand new hotel with state of the art furniture, fixtures, lamps, rectified marble floors and even a vertical garden on their walls... but inside, the common employee areas, such as the bathroom and lockers...perfectly extracted from a prison movie; not only ugly, but degrading. Is not fair...it doesn't feel right. Maybe is just me, but it feels... so... sad.

Allow me to re-share  a post written one year ago, also in Caracas...also frustrating. Same country, same feeling...changing slowly...probably for the worse.

Caracas, Venezuela November 4th, 2009
It was early when I arrived. The streets were packed with cars, bikes and people selling stuff, buying stuff, yelling stuff. I had just enough time to take a quick shower, grab a small coffee and head to work. While riding on the back of the car I started to look around, I tried to see beyond the obvious. And then it kicked me: to my left, a magnificent range of mountains covered with a dense and low fog... it was the sadest look of a city pretending everything is all right, trying to believe is going to be fine.
A tree was emerging on one side, covered with white birds. They didn't sing, nor did they move. They were just there looking to the other side of the road, towards a mountain hiding from reality behind the wet hug of a selective fog, that was just covering the beautiful side of the street. The rest, was cristal clear. Or at least it was to me. That's how it felt anyway. The silent cry of a country waiting for it's people to wake up from their collective numbness.

With all due respect to the people of Venezuela...who have been expressing their pain in every word and attitude shared with this little foreigner...so you may regain hope.