Valencia International Airport sounds like a serious airport but in reality its a single runway and you disembark on stairs then walk to the terminal. They must not handle more than a handful of flights per day. We got some Tylenol while waiting at customs from one of the other parents and that seemed to help Mila’s earache a bit. Customs was the part of the journey that I was dreading the most. I had gone through waves on nervousness and anxiety over the past few months regarding the trip. I worked my way through

- Going to Mexico City by myself
- Negotiating with Venezuelan Embassy to get the Visa
- Rational and irrational worries about being robbed, kidnapped and ransomed, arrested by the Venezuelan Government for who knows what
- Losing my papers and not being allowed out of the country.

Some of these were partially alleviated by watching Bald and Bankrupt’s journey with the caminantes through the Darien Gap and across Mexico to reach the US border. I knew if things really really really went down I could at least make it to a US Embassy in Colombia and then get a flight back home. He also had a video of himself spending a day in Caracas and going to the worst neighborhood he could find, talking to people and just getting a feel for the country while speaking highly questionable spanish and in general not being discreet in the least. These really instilled confidence in my own ability to handle communicating and overall what the vibe of the country would be like when I arrived.

Once we got up to customs it appeared that it would be relatively smooth. Genesis told them I didn’t speak any Spanish to deter them from asking too many questions (really only for convenience as we’re not doing anything illegal). Our policy in general is to never separate, and this had worked out for us previously when dealing with Mexican customs. They checked Mila and Genesis Venezuelan passports and then got to mine. The guard told the girls to move ahead just to clear some space since the room was tiny but Genesis started to argue a bit. She said something to the effect of nothing is going to happen to him just give us some space. She reluctantly agreed and after they took my picture and thumbprint they let me in. It was a bit odd because really they only needed a minute more with me but I didn’t care, I was in. We got our bags scanned and went out to the airport.

Scarlet was there waiting for us but in reality she was there for Mila. Unforutnately for her Mila was not in the mood for hugs and kisses. After some hugs we made our way through the crowd of Venezuelans waiting for family memebers coming home and went out to the parking lot. To give an idea of the airport size, the parking lot is smaller than one that you’d find at most US grocery stores. We put most of our bags in a friends truck and then we piled into Scarlett’s Fiat Uno Fire for the ride to Maracay. Valencia airport is in the remains of an industrial center. At the time of this writing this was the most shocking thing I’ve seen. It was miles of abandoned factories, cleared out and walked away from. The only functional factory in the city was the brewery for Polar, the Venezuelan equivalent of Miller or Budweiser. It was truly tragic to see so much industry gone as a result of the economic situation in the country. I couldn’t help but feel bad since the foreign policy of the United States directly or indirectly led to this collapse.

The ride back on the highway was a little chaotic, it was not necessarily crowded but people just kind of drive however, smaller motorcycles going slow in the right lane, people passing on the shoulder. There were a surprising number of people walking, many people with shops selling things on the shoulder. When we got to a relatively newly constructed toll plaza we were offered a wide range of snacks, and we bought a small pack of Panelitas de San Joaquin for $2. They’re a locally made sweet bread simliar to like a Biscotti and its a specialty of Carabobo, the state we were driving through.

Another thing I noticed was what looked like a relatively new bridge or highway following along the entire length of the highway out of Valencia. Apparently this was a very large and expensive failed railway which began under Chavez to connect Caracas with the country’s largest port city of Puerto Cabello. Due to the failing currency, large cost overruns and falling oil prices the project was never finished. By the looks of it they were very far into the project and it would certainly be nice if they could figure out how to finish it.

Carabobo is separated from the state of Aragua by a tunnel which was a rare piece of infrastructure that appeared to have been recently improved, with new pavement and traffic lights. Maracay is the capital city of Aragua so we were close to our final destination. Scarlett took us the “ruta verde” or scenic route on the way back to avoid traffic lights and another toll booth. This took us through the streets on the south west. There were a few people outside but again so many of the houses and shops looked abandoned. It didn’t feel dangerous at all, just sad to see the state of things. When there were large enough potholes in the road someone would put an old tire to serve as an improvised traffic cone warning motorists. We saw children on the side of the road throwing rocks up into a tree attempting to knock down mangos to snack on. If you’re looking for an 80s era Chevy there are plenty sitting around, some actively being worked on some left for dead. The most surprising thing to Genesis was the state of garbage collection. Whatever government entity is responsible for trash doesn’t seem to have the resources to keep up so they tend to pile garbage in designated areas along certain streets and every once in a while you’ll see a garbage truck picking up as much of it as they can. Occassionally we saw some poorer residents digging for treasure but the only success I’ve seen is someone found a book.

It is a relatively common sight when you get to the gated communities like where we are staying to see walls topped with spikes and electric fences. Apparently this is not a result of the more recent hard times but its just how they do things in Latin America. In CDMX the nicer houses had simliar security measures. Araguama Country, where Scarlett lives has a guardhouse with a gate and there is always at least one person on duty. I have rarely seen them close the gate so crime must not be that big of an issue. We parked the convoy in front of her house and unpacked.

After a day and a half of travel we were happy to unpack and lounge around the house. Square footage wise the house is not very large, but it has 4 bedroom and 4 full bathrooms, two upstairs and two down. The initial plan was to have Mila sleep in one and us sleep in other but only one had a room A/C so we put Mila’s crib in the master with the blackout tent over it so we could all share the room comfortably. The homes are almost like duplexes in that one wall is basically touching the other house and then the opposing side has about a 12 foot “yard” and then a wall separating the neighbors yard. Most people have this area covered for shade and Genesis family has the floor all bricked and a roof over it. It is not quite indoors but there is a door and there are windows separating the house proper from this sunroom like space. There is also a 5th bathroom “outside” and the laundry machines are behind the house. The windows and door are left open all the time and there is a large door that swings open to the front “yard” again which was entirely bricked over and is used as parking for 2 of their 4 cars.

They have 2 Fiat Unos, which is a small 4 door hatchback, and 1 Kia Rio which I haven’t seen move yet. For utility they have a Fiat Fiorino Cargo which is like a small delivery truck/van which we used to haul all of the luggage from the airport. All of the vehicles are stick shift, and they seem to prefer the small manuals for ease of maintenance and fuel efficiency. Since the gated community has an HOA and is generally more well off than the surrounding area the lawns are maintained regularly and the trash is taken care of. One of the neighbors has a couple of dogs and the other has 2 small cats who wander around outside and provide loads of entertainment for Mila.

Instead of going out to get their hair cut or nails done Scarlett goes and picks up her stylists, who have been friends for 20+ years and they come to the house to perform the services. Since the Baptism was scheduled for the 29th they got hair treatments the night of the 28th. Scarlett’s hair wasn’t finished until after we went to bed around 11pm. Pedicures were performed the next day by another friend.

We ate hallacas which are like a Venezuelan version of a tamale. Cornmeal stuffed with beef and other goodies and then wrapped in a banana leaf and cooked. We boil them to reheat for eating. I’ve eated then in the US a few times around the holidays and was never particularly impressed but these ones were excellent so I had two. The tap water is probably not drinkable so they use a combination of small bottles and a large jug, but apparently they will drink it from just an activated carbon Pur filter on the sink. We don’t want to take the risk after the Mexico experience so we’re sticking with the bottles.

After this I’m going to change up the posts a bit, maybe slightly less chronological since I won’t necessarily have new experiences and culture shocks to write about as frequently. I’ll stick to new meals, new places visited, major events and see where that gets us.