The Muddy-Pants Diaries

19 August 2005 (Friday) – Caracas, Venezuela

There really isn’t much left to do in Caracas. I think the reason I am still here is perhaps due to inertia, as I was pretty comfortable where I was staying and I really got along splendidly with my hosts Rafael and Rosa. They would be having a baby soon this January, I am so happy for them. Although the past few days, we could not do much together as they had to work, we spent our evenings very fruitfully chatting and chatting til late at night. I really enjoyed their company, such mature and sensible people. And they also found my stories very diverse and funny.

The other reason was that finally late last night, I got my stash of bolivares. With Rafael acting as the intermediary, my invisible supplier provided me with the money in exchange for my US dollars, all very shady, all very under-the-table.

With my money, I could try and get some stuff posted home. To my surprise, the post office here did not sell boxes of any kind. I ended up spending a good part of the morning, wandering along the streets, hoping to find a box. An elderly man running a snack-and-coffee joint waved to me and gave me a wide friendly smile. I smiled back and took my chance (and charm) and asked him if he could spare a box. He rummaged in the back and came up with one! OK, it was too big, but at least, he was really very helpful.

I then spent another half an hour or so, wandering down more streets to look for a smaller box I could EXCHANGE with. No luck, so I finally started asking for directions to the nearest post office. That took quite a bit of huffing and puffing to get to. Gosh… Caracas’ polluted air was really killing me!

I reached the post office and the lady helping me told me that if I had a smaller box, it would cost less. Yes, I k-n-o-w, but I had just spent a few hours wandering around the streets this morning… and this was all that I could find. To my surprise, she rummaged through her backroom and came up with a smaller box for me!! Then, she helped transfer everything over. That was really nice of her!

Wow, since I arrived in Caracas, I had met many surly people who refused to smile when they performed their services, people who had been downright rude or impatient with me. So, this was a pleasant surprise. Sure, there are rude people in all countries but look, I spent (in total of my entire life) 3.5 months in Brazil, 4 months in Argentina, 1.5 months in Chile, 1.5 months in Peru… and I was never really aware of the rude people, they were there… the odd ones here and there, but not so obvious for me to be fuming mad thinking about them. Yet, 5 days in Caracas, encountering rude and unsmiling people seemed to be the norm and the level of bad service was very glaring to me. Yet, out of nowhere, at certain moments like now, I would meet really helpful people and feel positively warm to the Venezuelans again.

After this, I trooped along more polluted roads and risked crossing through more mad traffic and reached a bus company to buy my bus ticket to Valencia. OK, surly service here.

Well, with absolutely nothing better to do, I cracked my brain hard and decided to go to the Botanic Garden. I thought there, perhaps I could breathe in fresh air, sit on a bench to read or whatever. Well, as I had no idea how to walk there, it took me more than 1.5 hours under the hot sun to find the entrance. Then, it suddenly poured. Nevertheless, I still patiently visited the garden. But what a disappointment!! The special displays were all half-cultivated or closed! And the ONE walkway leading down the length of the long Botanic Garden was right next to the highway!! More noise and pollution! Hmm… there appeared not many benches around and even if there were, they were wet from the rain. Bad bad decision.

At least, I ended the day pleasantly enough by buying a thank-you dinner for Rafael and Rosa at a Lebanese restaurant and we watched the exciting ‘The Island‘ together. Quite enjoyable movie, I liked it.

18 August 2005 (Thursday) – Caracas, Venezuela

Before I came to Caracas, I had written to a handful of people asking for accommodation. Besides the great couple I am staying with, Rafael and Rosa, I also received a reply from a German guy named Helge who is living here. He asked me to give him a call, so that he could help me. I chose to stay with Rafael and Rosa because I want to get to know Venezuelans, but still, I felt I had to at least give Helge a call just to thank him for his offer of help.

Yet, I kept forgetting it until last night. As it turned out, he said he would be having breakfast with another German guy and 2 Canadians and invited me to join them.

So I met up with them at a restaurant near Chacaito metro station. The other German boy was Richard, a theatre student, now on vacations. The Canadians were Kelvin and another Richard. Both were travelling separately but somehow they met each other here and seemed now to be hanging out together.

We had a pleasant-enough breakfast chit-chatting. At the end of the meal, when they were ready to leave, everyone tossed in about 10,000 Bs each. They got ready to leave without waiting for the change and I was shocked. Each of our breakfast meal cost about 6,000 Bs. They were happy not to receive any change. So, that meant they were giving a tip of 4,000 Bs. Now, my maths says that that is a whooping 66.66% tip!!!!! WHAT THE HEY!!! Sheepishly, I told them, er… sorry… but for me, I was waiting for the change. To which, all of them sat down and gave me a… you-know… look. Obviously, we were all on different budgetary stratospheres! Why are these guys in Hospitality Club then, asking to stay for free in people’s apartment!?

Kelvin asked what I was doing today. Blahblahblah… and I want to watch a Woody Allen play tonight – Tocalo el Nuevo., I told them. German-Richard, the theatre student, immediately recognised it as ‘Play It Again, Sam‘. Oh, I see! Kelvin looked interested, and he asked if he could join me. Sure. German-Richard was naturally interested as well. Canadian-Richard just tagged along. Helge had another date, OK. So, we made an appointment to meet one another at 6pm in front of McDonald’s near Chacaito metro.

By 6pm, I stood there all alone and waited. Then, it occurred to me, if they decided not to come, there was no way of informing me. I decided to wait til 6:30pm and then, just go. Coz, with or without them, I was going. German-Richard soon came running, apologizing. We waited til 6:30pm and finally spotted Canadian-Richard.

Canadian-Richard informed us that Kelvin was meeting 2 Venezuelan girls at 6:30pm at the same restaurant we were at this morning. So, we were all to go there, and see if the Venezuelan girls wanted to come along.

Gosh… the party had grown to… what… 6 now??? I was very doubtful.

At the restaurant, Kelvin was alone. Gosh, so the Venezuelan girls were not even here yet. And there was apparently another French guy, Roman, who would be joining us as well. What??? Nono, I am not being anti-social, but somehow, as the waiters laid out the forks and spoons around the table, and the feel of the mood here, I had serious doubts that any of these people would be interested in any play. The play was starting at 8pm, and if we still had to wait for these people, choose their dinner and drinks, gosh… there was no way we could get to the theatre on time.

Two very young and sexy Venezuelan girls soon sashayed over, looking a little snobbish, taking long drags from their ciggies. They greeted us cooly and sat on either side of Kelvin (if I may add, Kelvin is a tall, blond guy, attractive in the grungy sort-of way and Canadian-Richard is a roly-poly, mild-mannered, bespectacled guy of African origins). They ordered beer quickly before we could put to them the proposal of going to the theatre but forget it, one look at them, I already know!

Kelvin, who spoke no Spanish, wanted German-Richard to ask the girls in Spanish about the theatre. The girls were not keen, and very quickly buried themselves in conversation with Kelvin. The truth is, the girls speak very basic English, so good luck to their conversation tonight.

Meanwhile, Canadian-Richard who is actually quite a soft-spoken, sweet-natured, indecisive person looked very lost now. He wanted to come with us, because German-Richard and I were both very kind to him and we talk and listen to him. But yet, he seemed to have this anxiety that he should stick with Kelvin.

“Richard, do you want to join us? Because, it is close to 7pm now and we really should go!”. “Oh… I want to go… but… but… Can I have 5 minutes to think please?” “5 minutes!! Why? If you want to come, come. If not, just stay. What’s so difficult??” Yep, I was losing my patience.

He opted to stay, coz he claimed he was ‘with them’. I glanced at the Venezuelan girls whose eyes were fixed on Kelvin, ignoring us and him totally and took slight pity on Canadian-Richard. “OK, have a nice evening!” I smiled and left with German-Richard.

GGGOOOOSSSSHHHH!!!!!!!!!!! I HATE BEING WITH A GROUP!!! I practically screamed. Richard giggled and agreed, saying that that was why he travelled alone. Yep, me too! I couldn’t believe I spent 50 minutes waiting for people who did not want to go. I felt Canadian-Richard would have enjoyed the evening more with us, than with the others, but he was too weak to make his own decision. Fine!

Hahhaaa…. How funny this whole encounter had been! You truly meet all sorts of people!

The play proved rather enjoyable to me, although the guy playing the Woody Allen character with his nervous tics and stutterings never quite got the ‘Woody Allenness’. I just wanted a chance to experience a theatre, to watch a play in Spanish and see whether I understood it or not. Also, I wanted to experience a little of the cultural aspect of Venezuela.

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15 August 2005 (Monday) - Caracas, Venezuela Mission ONE - Bolivian Embassy Three years ago, my visa application for entry into Bolivia was rejected, without explanations, after a 3.5 months' wait. I had actually never planned on trying again, because, although I ... [Continue reading this entry]

13 August 2005 (Saturday) - 14 August 2005 (Sunday) - Santa Elena de Uairen to Caracas, Venezuela Santa Elena is tiny, but tiny. I could not afford to go on another tour, so I had a lot of time to kill ... [Continue reading this entry]