June 24, 2007

Sunday

Day 6

We were on the bus by 5:30am, breakfasting on yogurt, cereal and oj on the bus.  Again, thanks to the support staff of Karen Ernst, Mae Bell, Marcia Bennison, Lee Gresko  and Dennis Pool for keeping us fed, hydrated, guarding our stuff and running interference.  In the ferry terminal for a pod meeting, which was pretty challenging, due to a perceived poor performance at last night’s concert, lack of sleep, and some personal issues that needed to be settled. 

Dennis and I met Allejandro (9) and Allejandra (15), on the ferry and began a limited conversation with them.  We played tic-tac-toe, connect-the-dots and thumb wrestling.  We gave them a tic-tac-toe game we brought along and a postcard of Seattle.  Singing by various groups all over the boat, napping, dolphin-sighting, and eating.  And a fiesta for the last 90 minutes, where Martha Cohen, Martha Baskin, Dayna Littlejohn, Tim Hoffman, Dennis Pool,  Sue Hurley Rector and others salsa danced.  Carmen Shupe brought out her wood block for Fred to play, and Martha C. had her tambourine.  We had a ball, and took our first baby steps singing:

 

Viva Venezuela mi patria querida,

Quien la liberto, mi hermano fue

Simon Bolivar! 

 

This chorus accompanied umpteen verses and was really fun to sing!

When we landed, we met Jojo Farrell, Carolina, Leo, Nestor, (all from Global Exchange), and Orlando, and bus drivers for the first time. We loaded our luggage onto two busses and stopped for lunch near the ferry terminal.  Dennis and I shared a bowl of chicken soup, arepas and a beer (which never tasted so good due to the heat).  Some had mora, a blackberry or blueberry fruit smoothie.  Then we prepared for a 4 hour bus ride (which turned into 7!) on a non air-conditioned bus with uncomfortable seats.  We chose the fast bus, as opposed to the slower one which had air conditioning.  Our bus was to be faster, because it lacked headlights, and we were under pressure to get to our destination before dark, so we committed to limiting our stops along the way.  But somehow we got lost, and thus the prolonged duration of the ride. 

At this point, we pulled over, and the “slow” air conditioned bus came back to get us, having an hour earlier delivered its load, since it was no longer safe for us to drive in the dark.  A great irony!  But all was well once we got to Hotel Rio Chico, in the Barlovento area of Venezuela, along the northern coast, east of Caracas.  We had a choice of seafood or chicken for dinner, and we chose the former.  Delicious fish, with potatoes or rice and vegetables.  We had planned to go to the drumming festival (San Juan Baptista) but since we arrived so late, early to bed and back at it tomorrow.

The motel was a two story affair, with a courtyard filled with caged birds, tortoises and and some empty cages as well.  One of the birds said “Hola” as I walked by.  The rooms were comfortable, the showers were hot, and the beds good. 

 

June 25, 2007

Monday

Day 7

I was up very early before anyone else, so had some time to reflect. 

Some random thoughts:

         1.         Gas is 11cents a gallon in Venezuela.  I expected to see oxcarts, bicycles, rickshaws or various transports for getting around.  Instead I see cars, motorcycles and scooters.  I have seen very few bicycles and so far no skateboards or roller blades.

         2.         Group traveling is interesting as well as challenging.  With 41 people traveling together and adding 6-10 staff from Global Exchange including bus drivers, there are some rough spots.  Most of them have to do with lack of communication and getting to know each other.  Everyone is exhausted and hot.  Many people are becoming ill.  So keeping short accounts seems to be the best process.  I am also very aware of how fragile a group is.  If one of us is injured, or ill, or loses it, all of us are affected.  In some ways we are only as strong as the “weakest” member of the group.  But I am also surprised at how strong the group process is.  People tend to pick up the slack.  They rally around those who have faltered.  Unloading luggage goes quickly when all pitch in.  Water toting is easier when all share the load.  We are a healthier group when we buoy up those who are struggling.

         3.         The landscape along the northern coast of Venezuela from Puerto la Cruz to Curiepe is quite stunning.  Lush green foliage and cactus growing up right in the middle of it all.  Rugged soaring mountains coming right down to the sea.

         4.         We are in pro-Chavez country now among the poorer classes.  He is their champion.  Now that we are in the company of Global Exchange, we are actually seeing some of the poorer areas.

 

Carol Dansereau and I went for a short walk through the town, down to the river.  This was the first place I saw bromeliads growing on telephone lines.  We were to see them everywhere for the rest of the trip.  We saw several birds, and lots of school children on their way to school. 

 

Breakfast at a Panaderia, and then onto Curipe, an Afro-Venezuelan town, and the center for the African drumming festival and the celebration of St. Juan el Baptista.  We sang in the town square and met several great people including Meridee and her mother, hoping to meet up with them again in Caracas for our final concert.

We visited the house where the replica of John the Baptist, as a young child (perhaps 2 or 3 years old) resided during the festival.  And then we waited for him to be returned to the church to end the festival. 

The parade through the streets was truly remarkable.  An undulating sea of people dressed in red and white, pressed together, almost trance-like as they danced and chanted, with several people carrying the statue on their shoulders back to the church.  We threw ourselves into the middle of it, pushed up against sweaty bodies, chanting along with our South American brothers and sisters.  It was the second time on the trip I experienced being the hottest in my whole life, and it turns out, it was the last time.  But it was worth it.  This was a once-in-a-lifetime experience and thrilling.   

 

We were all exhausted, sweaty and happy as we boarded the bus for Maracay, a 4 hour plus drive through rain and amazing tropical landscapes with soaring mountains and deep valleys.  It reminded me of Kauai.  We hit rush hour traffic in Caracas, which gave us a chance to see the city from the freeway, including a 2,000,000 population barrio on the hills surrounding the city with no running water or sewage treatment, and pirated electricity.  We also saw gated mansions with red tiled roofs, military installations and much evidence of European and US investments.  We arrived late to Hotel Princesa  and then out for dinner at 11:00pm. I had chicken and fries. 

 

Goodbye to Carol Dansereau and Carmen Shupe!  They were picked up at 3:00am for a taxi ride to the airport.
 

 

June 2, 2007
Tuesday
Day 8

 

We met in the lobby at 9:00am and then to a Panaderia for breakfast.  I was feeling quite ill, and so was Mary Waters.  She stayed on the bus, and I did not want to eat anything.  While sitting on the sidewalk, I vomited all over myself.  Gross!  Mortifying!  Several people helped me and I got into some fresh clothes, feeling much better.  Poor Mary continued to feel ill.  I am quite sure it was heat exhaustion that got me.  Once we got into a cooler area that day, I felt better.  We drove 1 ½ hours to Henri Pittier Park, which was spectacular.  The flowers!  The foliage!  The cool breezes!  The windy road!  Mary and others really suffered from travel sickness.

We arrived in Choroni-Puerto Columbia, a darling colonial town with pastel painted houses right on the Caribbean.  The rooms were really nice with two-tone paint of turquois and gold, and clever rope closets.  Dennis went on a birding excursion back to the park with a large group and I stayed and rested. 

 

Our hostess at the Posada was Olga who had a pet 7 month old macaw.  She told us right at the outset, “no feeding the bird”.  Her chef fed us well for the next two days.  We began our dinner with a roasted tomato on a bed of sautéed vegetables, topped with cheese, and garnished with a toasted spaghetti noodle that looked like a stem.  Delicious!  Then a choice of fish or chicken, rice, ragout of vegetables and white bread.  Dessert was an extra charge,  but some ordered beautiful cakes, tarts and flambes.  After our Pod meetings, we strolled to the Malecon, a sea wall, and the center of the town, for some powerful rum drinks, African drums, dancing and jewelry shopping.  A late night and partying for some, but for me bed at 10:30.

 

For those who stayed on the Malecon, a spontaneous concert erupted with African songs and “Si Somos”.  A loud heckler emerged from the crowd saying “Go Home!”  It was an akward moment, but others there apologized for him saying he was drunk. Many tried the African drums, and danced.