A Month In Venezuela
When I was 20 I spent a month in Venezuela. At the time there weren’t as many people visiting the country. It was a university trip intended to help us immerse ourselves in the Spanish language. But it also introduced us to the joys and pains of travel as nothing on the trip went according to plan. Let me give you a few examples.
Finding Accommodation
We sorted out our own accommodation in a district in Caracas which was the right price for students. When we arrived the area looked lively and the hotel looked somewhat below par. We soon discovered why. When we talked to Venezuelan friends, it turned out that we had inadvertently booked into a hotel in the red light district. They were horrified. In fairness, during the day the streets were busy with vendors selling empanadas and other local pastries as well as the widest range of tropical juices I have ever seen. At night it was a little more menacing and we soon decided to move to Sabana Grande for the remainder of our stay.
No Classes For Us
The second thing that went wrong was with our immersion course. All the arrangements were made and we were told when to turn up at the school. However when we arrived, it was obvious that they weren’t ready. Maybe it was the sight of the director running around like a headless chicken trying to find someone to give the classes that gave it away. They told our little band of 8 to Galway and come back in a couple of days by which time they would be ready.
Sampling The Food
But when we did turn up the classes had a cobbled together feel and by the end of the first week we decided to discontinue the classes by mutual agreement. Instead we wandered the streets, visited the markets and talked to people. It was a wonderful experience. Even though I’m now a vegetarian, I still have fond memories of Venezuelan hotdogs with everything on (a truly delectable experience), hamburgers made from real beef and being able to order half a barbecued chicken for lunch or dinner. I discovered spicy eastern iced tea, and a range of pastries which would have piled on the pounds had I not been spending every day walking.
Venezuelan Culture
The best cultural experience was an evening at the home of one of our Venezuelan contacts. He was part of a band — or more properly a singing group — and invited everyone round with guitars and tambourines for an evening singing Venezuelan and South American folk songs. It was fun.
A Scary Night
By far the scariest experience of the month in Venezuela came on the night bus trip to Merida. We were going to take the famous cable car and that was the best way to get there. However on the way the bus was stopped by soldiers at a checkpoint so they could check our passports. We were the only foreigners on the bus so we got special attention and I, as a Brit travelling from the Caribbean, was singled out even more. While a 16 year old — at least that’s how he looked — held his gun loosely, I got off the bus and went to the checkpoint so they could question me about my papers (which were in order). However, I couldn’t help feeling a sense of menace and it was a true test of my Spanish because no one at the checkpoint spoke English. Eventually, I was allowed to board the bus again and we proceeded to Merida, only to find that the cable car was down for repairs indefinitely.
A Great Experience
That did not prejudice my opinion of Venezuela. It was an eye-opener in many ways. Venezuela was the first place where I saw people rooting in bins for food. But it was also the first place where I experienced the joy of discovering a new place with a group of friends — and you can’t put a price on that.
(Photo 1: http://www.flickr.com/photos/samout3/2660174039/
Photo 2: http://www.flickr.com/photos/eduardox/2361905550/)
Tags: Destinations, south america, travel, venezuela
February 23rd, 2010 at 6:39 am
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March 18th, 2010 at 6:29 am
[...] never found anywhere that can make iced tea in the way I first had it. This was during my trip to Venezuela when I was still a student. Around the corner, say about 10 minutes walk from where we were staying [...]