We were trapped, cooped in our houses like so many pigeons; barred from the routine of the life that we used to lead. We were afraid to go outside, even to walk to a neighbor's apartment, for fear of being approached by the hot-headed protesters who haunted the road blocks outside.
After a few weeks, I began to accept this subsistence as "normal," though that term could never really fit. I never felt "normal," because I never knew what might happen next. Would the next day be like today, or could it be worse? Of course my mind sometimes rushed to the possibility that things could be much worse: more violence, no more safety even in your own home. I trained myself to push those thoughts away. What could be the good of imagining that?
The protests lasted for about a month and a half, and we were forced to stay home from work for most of that time. Some people imagine that the time off was a relief, a mini "vacation" from work, but it was nothing of the sort. There was no enjoyment in the time spent locked up in an apartment, not able to safely do anything aside from online activities (and stilted communication at that) and household chores. I spoke to some friends who did risk to venture out during that time, and they were rewarded with first-hand experience of the violence that was happening in their area of town.
It's taken me so long to post anything about this. During the protests, I was too anxious and stressed about the situation to know what to write. I was also afraid of unduly alarming my family and friends back home, especially after the sensational videos that popped up on the news in the US. After the protests, I let my mind push the memory as far away as I could reach. I felt, and still often feel, like I taint the air by speaking of it too much. It was like a nightmare, something to forget.
I thank God that my return to Venezuela this August has not been blighted by a recurrence of the protests. There are still the spray painted slogans on the street walls and some other signs from the protests left over, but a strong renewed sense of security has pervaded my time here. My Venezuelan friends assure me that nothing even close to violence occurred over the summer while I was in the US with my family. What a huge relief to find the country quiet again, although of course I can't say that things are perfect. The situations that caused the protests in the first place still exist, and the country is still politically polarized. I continue to pray that political peace would reign, and that God himself would speak in and through the lives of the leaders of the country.
