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
