Cristo Rey, Todos Las Santas and That Kiss

Rio Caribe is a popular seaside town smack bang in the middle of the anvil shaped750 kilometres of  coast that forms the north of Sucre state and Venezuela, bordering the Mar Caribe.  A little further on from the town Trinidad is just a stone’s throw away.  That Caribbean influence is felt in the food, the atmosphere and the drug trade.   Nestled between sea and verdant hills, as the capital of Arismedi municipality, Rio Caribe has pretensions to greatness that probably derive in part from the fact it was founded in 1523 by  Reverendo Francisco Miguel Estaban de Aurolán, though most records of the origins of the town are lost to the mists of time.  Iglesia San Miguel Arcángel  overlooking Plaza Bolίvar was first constructed in 1717 and last restored in 2005.  Perched on a hill overlooking the church and the town is Cristo Rey, a Rio style sculpture designed by Colombian artist Esdra Misael Gutiérrez and erected in 1958.   Christ, arms outspread, watches over Rio Caribe. And at night he shines down upon the town. I’m not sure if he has electricity when the rest of us don’t, which is not an infrequent occurrence though thankfully it is usually short-lived.

And down in town what Christ doesn’t see the saints surely do.  I don’t know about most other towns in Venezuela but in this one, at least one day a week sees devotions to one or other of the Catholic female saints.  I’m sure some of those honoured have been delisted by the last Pope.  I’ve been to the celebrations for St. Cecilia, patron saint of musicians.  It seemed as though anyone with an instrument showed up at the mass and all played with gusto. St. Cecila was then carried around town as the musicians blew, and banged and strummed.  On another day an almighty banging, which turned out to be a combination of fireworks and drums, shocked me into wakefulness at 6am.  Celebrations for some saint or other.  Last night was St. Barbara. Patron saint of I’m not sure what (I must look that up).  I was kindly invited to a home in one of the barrios to say the rosary. Women and children only though.  (I’m wondering if maybe the men have days devoted to male saints.)  We were afterwards served a lovely supper and then stood around a huge birthday cake singing Happy Birthday to St. Barbara.  Bizarre or not? 

Venezuelan men generally revere their mothers.  It is sometimes said Irish men do too though I haven’t seen this in my own family.  But then not everyone has a mother like us!  Like the female saints, Santa Maria is given, in my view, way too much attention.  But in Venezuela she has a  mirror image in the cultish Maria Lionza and in the occult.  While Cristo Rey watches and the saints are carried around town, they pass perfumerias.  These perfumerias do not sell Chanel No. 5 what they sell is potions and spells.  Yes, sir. The dark arts are alive and well here in Rio Caribe.  More than one person here has spoken very seriously to me about witches (good and bad) and shamans and strange goings on in the cemetery.  Of effigies being made and ritually buried so as to do the real life human being harm.  I was thinking perhaps this was some Caribbean influence or a hangover from the slave trade but I’m told it’s stronger in Barinas!  Barinas, the plains and mountains, cowboys and horses!

I seem, without trying, to have cast my own spell on someone.  The muchacho who stacks shelves and does the donkey work at my local Chinese run/owned store.  Having first gone in there to look for coffee and not finding any,  I asked for help. It turned out there was a shortage of coffee – and powdered milk which is used here instead of fresh – so he couldn’t help beyond offering me Nescafe instant.  Next time I went in I was looking for cooking oil.  He found me and offered to help.  There followed 5 minutes of me trying to tell him in Spanish what I wanted and we eventually solved the language problem when I spelt the word and he corrected my pronunciation.  That’s when he told me he loved my eyes. Blue eyes and fair skin being not very common  in these parts.  Every time I went in thereafter, he would come over and start asking what I wanted and trying to help me.  And every time he would tell me loves my eyes. Then he started asking if I would go to the beach with him.  When his Chinese boss started hovering around he would start to whisper to me…he loves my eyes and will I go to the beach with him, do I have husband…Now, he isn’t quite sure if I understand all this Spanish so he’s trying to supplement with sign language without his boss seeing this.  He’s pretty determined and continues with his ‘advances’ and our exchanges of Spanish about where I’m from, what I’m doing here, if I’ve children, how long I’m staying. And what goods I’m looking for – always the eye for a sale.   Never mind that he’s about 24 years old and I’m clearly nowhere near that age range!  So the last time I was in there he catches me in an empty isle furthest from the most popular goods and he does his usual, I love your eyes, please come to the beach, appeal.  Only this time he asks for a kiss. On the cheek.  And because it’s nice to be told you’ve nice eyes (just because they’re blue), and to reward his persistence, I agree.  Figuring this is going to be the swift peck on the check that is the usual salutation in Venezuela I was taken aback when what I got was a minute long, lingering kiss – on the cheek!  And then he has the nerve to say that next time it is going to be a kiss on the mouth…hahaha…I’ll be gone tomorrow and so will magic spells.

Post script: I looked up St. Barabara..she was delisted (removed from the Liturgical calendar to be correct) in 1969....

Rio Caribe, 5 december 2011

The Goddess Without

Riding high on a specially constructed staircase, crown shimmering, teeth gleaming out from the fixed smile, waving like the Queen, she came rolling slowly down the shoreline road that leads into Rio Caribe. Miss Venezuela. Homecoming queen. Four hours late but the enthusiasm of the crowd wasn’t dampened.  Sustained by the crates of beer, bottles of rum and fast food that had been consumed in the Plaza Sucre from early afternoon, the steel drum band touring the Plaza on the back of a truck, the various vehicles blaring out competing music and the anticipation of what was to come.  Rio Caribe, a seaside town in a tropical climate was throwing quite a party.  They’d come from near and far to see their beauty queen.  Don’t underestimate the value Venezuelans place on this version of beauty and the pride Rio Caribe feels at having provided more than its fair share of Miss Venezuela’s over the years.

The boob job and nose job (Venezuelans have plastic surgery as easily and more often than other nationalities have manicures) and the marijuana use,  should remain a poorly kept secret. She is of course quite gorgeous, if slim, tanned, Mediterranean-looking, magazine ready, is your idea of beauty.  The crowd went wild. The cavalcade, which had been heavily advertised on radio and from giant loud speakers on the back of a truck, took almost half an hour to move up the coast road that takes you into Rio Caribe. I job it in 5 minutes.  She then toured the pueblo. No-one was going to be able to say they hadn’t seen Miss Venezuela.  That was the last we saw of her for another 3 hours.

She was whisked into the government-owned Venetur hotel for media interviews and a change of clothes, and maybe even a quiet spliff.  Guarded by the local police, the state troopers, the national guard and the army, no unauthorised person was getting beyond those gates.  Outside we drank more beer and ate more roast chicken and hot dogs. I seemed to be the only one feeling a bit fed up at the long wait. I had a hot dog, and another beer. Still no sign of her. The giant stage that had been erected overnight was all lit up in anticipation. Music blared. I had time to wander off up town to my friends hot dog stall and back and still no Miss Venezuela.  I hung around outside the hotel.  There was a long collective breath and a rush forward. She was at the gates. From half a meter away, I looked at her face and I saw fear!  She fixed her smile and flanked by minders and the various civil and military security forces, the gates slowly opened and she was ushered the 15 steps to the car that took her the 10 meters to the other side of the plaza and the awaiting stage.  She had changed into a white evening gown. .

Another half hour and finally the show began. A troupe of modern dancers took to the stage and danced around like demented animals.  Then she gave herself to the crowd. “Irene, Irene, Irene” they shouted. It sounds much nicer in Spanish! The next two hours was a mad ‘This Is Your Life’ affair.  Irene was given numerous  plaques and flowers as past school teachers, music teachers, friends and relatives paid tribute to her on a white sofa to match her white gown.  The local priest and his curates prostrated themselves before her like she was a wondrous crowned Madonna.  The Chavista Alcalde (Mayor) did likewise. The government claimed her.  Christ himself come down from the cross or cancer recuperating El President Chavez walking up the street would not have deflected the adoration bestowed on Irene Esser last Saturday night.  And on it went. Only her parents did not get a look in. Strange but perhaps the divorced couple and very troubled father couldn’t be trusted not to ruin the perfection of it all.  And so, at close to midnight, the Goddess was whipped away leaving the crowd still electrified and searching for more alcohol to keep the party going without her.  Not a single brawl was seem throughout the pueblo which was just as well as every policeman in town was looking after Irene.

“My life has changed completely since becoming Miss Venezuela” she told the crowd. Yes, but look at what’s happened to your soul, my dear.  The current Miss World is last year’s Miss Venezuela. Perhaps that reduces Irene’s chances of taking the title next year.  I'm not sure what fate is worse though, that of a future Miss World or that of a 'failed' beauty queen. Go Irene?

Rio Caribe, 28th November 2011

Lest I Forget

 

I was just over a month in Pedraza in the midst of a complex and at times seemingly incomprehensible situation.  All that happened in that craziness reflects  how the rest of the country works.  Revolutions are no walks in the park!  It was, it is, fascinating, to have been in the eye of the storm of Chavez' revolution – in microcosm.  I enjoyed every moment of it. But as a kind of interloper I could afford to.  Nothing has been resolved there as of yet.  Workers have ousted the 'appointed' Student President, Fundacea has little or not control, salary payments have stopped again and the government make weekly promises to announce the process for resuming educational activities. And the London International Office distances itself to the point of oblivion.

The business of appropriate stand out but there were ordinary every day things too that made life enjoyable and I don't want to forget them.  The beauty of the place – running into a wall of mountain that looked like so many limpet shells all joined together and stretching from left to right as far as the eye could see on my jog along the pisto back towards the college campus.  The snow capped tips of the highest peaks of that Andes range.  The long stretches of open flat country, the plains of Los Llanos with rivers crossing along the way.  And the skies at night, unpolluted by city lights, the constellations twinkled in all their splendor. You just had to remember to look skywards!  The absence of the sounds of human habitation that bombard you amidst Caracas' densely populated suburbs and apartment blocks. The presence of so many birds from the tiniest little bright yellow tits to the soaring black hawks.

Going drinking with six 20-something guys from 4 different countries and dancing the night away in a tiny tavern where we were the only customers.  Them running out the door to shout at every other group of chicas who passed by! The best hamburgers in the world from the dodgiest looking of places.

Collecting avocados as the guys knocked them from high off the branches with sticks – we needed those avocados to supplement the lousy diet and limited food supply.  I didn't mind the endless teasing about my “love” for pasta after I simply couldn't face another plate of the stuff when it was served for the seventh consecutive meal.  It wasn't that I complained, I just refused my serving. But everyone noticed!  Staff bringing me food from their homes and inviting me to into their homes and families where we struggled to communicate in Spanish but managed somehow.  Enough so that when they inquired about my experiences in Africa, mother's scolded their kids for not eating what food was put in front of them!  Being given a salsa lesson in the back yard of a small house in Pedraza on a hot, sunny, Sunday afternoon as a tamarind tree was mutilated.  My afternoon coffee and chat with the receptionist – me understanding about 10% of what she said but we still managed to make jokes, usually about the fat man!

Demonstrations too brought their own sense of solidarity.  I can't forget joining the protesters late at night at the College gates where the solitary bulb attracted too many insects and we played endless rounds of dominos. The convention of slamming your domino down hard as if you wanted to reach the centre of the earth unnerved me. I got used to it but could never copy it. 

On the morning I was leaving there was a mad 6am bus ride to Barinas in search of a cap with the image of Chavez on the front. It was unsuccessful as I knew it would be but someone wanted me to do it and I went along for the ride. 

I have been touched by the sadness people expressed when they knew I was leaving and feel a little guilty that they continue to tell me how much they miss me. Though I'd like the 2am text messages a bit earlier in the evening!  I will forever be touched by the many kindnesses people showed me and the joy they brought to my life.  I've been so privileged and so humbled.  

What there is not

“There be so many things goin' on ya caan keep up” said my Caribbean friend. And he was right of course. Amidst the Student Association President's ever secretive activities and the to-ing and fro-ing to meetings with persons unknown his one grand gesture was to publish an open letter to President Chavez. Using confrontational language and the most strident of tones, it was not at all helpful. Worse than this – he claimed to speak in the name of all students, staff, alumni, and a whole host of others. The first problem with this was that not a single one of the people in whose name he spoke had been consulted about the 'carta' and second was that no-one believed he had actually written it or that it was his idea to post it on facebook, to many individual email addresses and to media outlets in Spain, the US and Venezuela. The culprit, it was thought, was Fundacea. Within hours of the world seeing it he was forced to take it down but he did a less thorough job of retracting it than he did of circulating it in the first place. I can only think the aim was simply to rile the authorities irrespective of what effects, if any, it might have on the situation. And so began Monday of last week.

Tuesday saw the return of Senor Marcano of Fundacea to a somewhat hostile reception in Pedraza. Around 20 students had responded to the call of the Student Association President (for which read Fundacea) to return to the College for a meeting. They held a shambles of a meeting the night before with no agenda, no order and at which nothing was decided. Apparently, “it is always like that..”. The volunteers had been invited to attend the student meeting on Tuesday but we were promptly thrown out by Senor Marcano. funny, I thought this was a meeting initiated by students who should be free to invite whoever they wished. They in turn did not challenge Marcano's taking control of things.  Staff wanted to join the meeting too but they were refused entrance and it looked as though there might be a bit of an altercation as they marched en mass from their protest at the gates to the room where the meeting was being held. Why Marcano behaved in this way and provoked confrontation is not clear to me. Perhaps it was a final exercise of what little power he had left.   Part of the ongoing games that have been played for months now.  In his own words, “There is no Fundacea, there is no United World College” and that was that! Basically he had wiped his hands of everyone and everything. His only response to questions was that Fundacea has no money and he's no idea how workers will be paid what they're owed. As far as he knew the government would turn the place into a public university.  He was quite adamant about this in Pedraza but not when he spoke to London, insisting that it is just 'leaked information'. More games.  Many students and staff walked out and the meeting died a death as he lost all authority. The 2 weeks back pay staff had been promised for the previous Friday finally came through on Wednesday. But academic staff are owed more than 6 weeks pay and non-academic staff more than 4 weeks pay.

And so we are one step closer to becoming a public polytechnic-university. No-one will put it in writing, no-one will discuss the process or dates.  But it is inevitable. Having been shown the door the week before I packed my bags and my heavy heart and said goodbye to the circus on Wednesday just ahead of the arrival of the Alcaldi (Mayor) of Pedraza. He assured the striking workers that the College will become a public educational establishment but like everyone else could provide no details about the process.

By Monday, that is today, government has agreed to pay a further 15 days salary and workers have returned to work. There is talk of classes beginning on 15^th November. The Ministry of Education will have a meeting with students at the College this coming Friday. Presumably more information about the process of take over will be made available then. It seems there is a willingness to grant current students the UWC imprimatur on their graduating certificates. Whether or not UWC will agree this is still an unknown. Quite what students will be graduating in, and when remains a mystery. Not a good way to have to live.

So it seems it is goodbye UWC Simon Bolivar. The dying patient is drawing the final breaths and as I watch from Caracas, I believe the real travesty will be to treat this as a death by natural causes. This has been no act of nature and someone(s) must be held responsible. It shouldn't be assumed that someone is the Chavez government.

Caracas 7th November 2011

This is what it's all about - 3 simple points

This is what all the trouble in Pedraza really comes down to:


1. Fundacea, a private foundation does not want to keep the College because it has become unprofitable in recent years and has not been at full capacity for some time. Likely government will pay compensation for the infrastructure and assets though whether it will pay for land that was donated by a previous regime is more doubtful. How any compensation will be divvied up and to whom I am not sure.
2. UWC is not interested in keeping the College. Having expanded the network in recent years, this College is too much of the odd man out - a different curriculum from all the others, run by an intermediary that is difficult to control, unlike most of the others I believe, and too many issue with poor quality of education, a failure to fully promote the mission and inculcate the ethos of the UWC movement and not to mention having to operate in an unstable political and funding environment.
3. Next year is an election year and Government must be seen to deliver on it's revolutionary promises. Government wants the land for the campesinos and the infrastructure for a new polytechnic university that has already been created on paper.  They have run into a few internal problems because more ministries/departments and levels of government are involved now than was probably foreseen. They're having their own internal 'bun fight' over who gets what and who pays for what. Having now reviewed all the financial information, inventory and the condition of the land, they'll see the place hasn't seen any investment for a while and the buildings and other infrastructure are in a poor state of repair.


The trick now is to deliver this without any side seeming like it gave up the fight or causing too much damage to its reputation. Of course there will be winners - votes for the Chavistas come the 2010 elections as they deliver on the promises of the revolution, a better deal for those workers who are retained, more jobs for people in Padraza, students get to finish their education and more students get the opportunity to go to higher education locally.  And the losers? Not all staff will be retained with the change of regime - not even all the pro-Chavistas. Students are likely to lose the highly valued imprimatur of UWC on their graduation certificates. This will affect international students more than Venezuelan's who make up 75% or more of the current student body. Perhaps some of the Fundacea staff in Caracas but I'm told the CEO has 3 foundations in all, so perhaps he retains them.


The apple cart could still be upset with the entry into the fray of an association of rich, anti-Chavista ranchers, but they'd have to play a very good game to win this one.  !Viva la revolucion o no?

Is this the road to hell?

It doesn't get any better in Barinas and the revolution is really starting to piss me off, but so is Fundacea, the NGO administering Simon Bolivar United World College (UWC) and come to think of it so too is the UWC International Office.


Friday saw the kitchen staff call a meeting of all staff to discuss the food situation.  With much shouting and jeering and clapping, discussion was extended beyond the issue of food, to the other manifestations of the present crisis.  I can understand the focus on lack of food and lack of salaries but no-one, and I mean no-one is asking any of the types of questions that will actually give useful answers.  So, one of the main suggestions for a solution to the food crisis was to send away the 5 Haitian students stranded here!  This came from the fat one who competes with them for chicken in the dinning room.  They are fussy eaters and do not like red meat, which here is beef only. He claims to have health problems with red meat but this doesn't stop him having hamburgers from the food stalls in el pueblo!  I'm not sure where he thinks they can possibly go.  If they go, I definitely go. It's a matter of principal.  I am probably on his hit list anyway but for different reasons.


Saturday saw breakfast sabotaged. Yes, that was the exact word used, and accomplice was also mentioned. Something about the milk we get from the College farm for making cheese being not delivered or not made into cheese.  


Monday saw staff vote to go on strike and to stage a lock out/in. They've stopped working, closed the gates of the College, put up various banners demanding their pay, a new administration and that they become a public university.  No-one is allowed in. Thankfully they let us out.  


Food is an ongoing issue. There is none. Now it is limited only to students. This morning I was refused breakfast because I am not a student but that was soon sorted out.  As I was going back to my room, the fat one, had round to the back of the kitchen and was trying in vain to pull his great bulk up to the windows, begging for food to be passed out to him secretly. It was pathetic.


At last the Executive Director of Fundacea arrived. Staff refused to hold a meeting inside the College and insisted it be held outside at the locked gates which are now festooned with new, additional banners. He said nothing new....Fundacea has no money, the solutions are to become a public university or to jointly run the place with Govt.  The next breath he contradicts this and says he may have some money for them on Friday and that the problem is political but that a decision from govt is expected tomorrow. Oh, and yes, he attended a meeting with government yesterday to discuss things. Really. When students asked about their situation they were told government had not paid their scholarships this year and they'd just have to stay at the College and cook fro themselves.  I'm not sure where they are to get the food.  It did not help anyone and told us nothing new.  People begin to suspect he is hiding something...a secret deal with government, that he wants rid of the College, that government will take over and staff will lose jobs.  


Then suddenly just after lunch word came that El President was in Barinas, an hours drive away.  Vehicles, national flags, College flags and people were on the road within 15 minutes.  We got to Barinas but Chavez must have changed his mind.  Of course he wasn't there..hadn't anyone verified this?  And why would he agree to see them without any kind of appointment.  They wanted to talk about food and money. Eventually, the Governors office sent out a lawyer from the Ministry of Education, a senior INTI person turned up.  They gave the College staff no real answers and said it will be some time before there is any decision.  


Then the media turned up.  One Haitian student told the interviewer the College treats the students like slaves, working on the College farm. Uproar.  You have to learn where to draw the line of criticism!  


And still no-one is any the wiser.  No-one asks questions that will illicit useful answers. This is not a particularly Venezuelan trait, but is a trait of people without a good education.  And people who are desperate because they don't know how they're going to feed their families, or pay their bills or whether they'll keep their jobs.  B ut I still can't help feeling that in times of crisis, the best people are able to step outside their own crisis and think bout the plight of others who are still worse off.  And as for professional behaviour, forget it. The Executive Director, refused to stop to talk with students after the meeting and completely ignored us international volunteers. In my professional opinion we all deserved at least the courtesy of a 'hello'. Fundacea is responsible for us too!

 any concrete answers. - like what exactly is the process we're following? Who is going to make decisions?  What

Man Eat Man?

And so the plot thickens in Pedraza and el colegio.  


This week has seen no progress on resolving the situation.  The administering NGO in Caracas does not communicate with the college but is generally believed to be bankrupt and without the statutory employee social security type funds.. Staff are increasingly frustrated and stressed. If the worse happens and they lose their jobs they will get nothing. Some have given more than 20 years service.  


The local Mayor claims to know nothing but says a report will go to the State Governor, the other Mr Chavez.for a decision. Earlier in the week there was talk of a meeting today in Barinas between the Governor and/or government and the administering NGO. If that happened no-one from the college was there and no-one from the college knows that it took place.  The acting 'coordinator', because it would not be correct to say Acting Principal, has no authority whatsoever and cannot make decisions.  Especially those affecting international students and volunteers, i.e. me!  Some Haitian's students, stuck here because they are too poor to go anywhere else, needed to go to the state capital to process visas. The college refused to provide them transport or bus fares.  Now, bear in mind the cost of a litre of petrol here is a few pence, I kid you not. $1 will exchange for Boliviars 4 through the bank or 8 on the black market. A litre of petrol is less than a quarter of a Boliviar. A small bottle of water is BFS 7!  Apparently, Caracas was approached for a decision on the students' request and refused.  No-one in the college gives a damn about these students and the College has retained their stipends.  And when I say these are poor students I really mean it - they do not have families who can send money from Haiti. They are looking at their education and the last 2 or 3 years of their lives going down the drain.  The College, the administering NGO and when it comes down to it, the International Board, all have a duty of care to students.  None are fulfilling that duty and it is simply unacceptable.


Today all the staff had an informal meeting about the current situation. There are many interest groups and factions within the staff body and the divisions from an earlier ruckus with an ousted Director have never been addressed. There was much shouting and jeering and angry exchanges. The grossly overweight, incompetent and lazy English/Spanish teacher, who refuses to teach me Spanish, is obsessed with food. After the meeting, when I asked him what had happened, his response was, "There's no food, they're restricting it. These guys have got to go".  This didn't make a whole lot of sense to me. "What guys?" I asked, "And go where?".  It seems he wants rid of the students from Haiti. I suspect he also wants rid of me and the other volunteer and as many people as possible because he has to share the food with us.  But more the Haitian students than me because I often give him half my breakfast.  although he may want rid of me for other reasons.  The fat man refuses to eat red meat in the College, claiming he has a health problem.  Never mind that he is often seen at the street hamburger stalls in the pueblo.  And the Haitian students are very fussy about food with one of them not eating red meat for religious reasons. So that's it, they compete for the chicken the kitchen prepares especially for them.   He's getting rid of the competition!  I can't believe it. None of us are safe from this glutton!  I feel like putting pictures of delicious food all over the school to remind him of what he is missing.  Somehow I don't think he needs reminding.  But rubbing his face in it would give me a little perverse pleasure.  


We don't know what the next week holds and talk of  resuming today's meeting on Monday to make some decisions seems like pie in the sky to me. Let's hope the fat man doesn't eat that too!


Oh, and one more piece in the puzzle. For those who have been following.  It seems one of the reasons the recent Director was ousted is that he used the money paid by the Ministry of Education to begin repairing a very run down campus.  He wasn't supposed to do this. He was supposed to transfer the money back up to the administering NGO in Caracas.  Lack of financial transparency or financial impropriety? That dirty rat I smelled weeks ago still stinks!