The Venezuelan personal space bubble

I had always had laughed inside about the capacity limit in elevators, thinking that the weight limit was excessive and unnecessary, but now I respect it! I had never known just how many people you could fit into an elevator, comfortably or otherwise. I think 8 adults plus 2 small children is the record I've experienced in Venezuela so far, and I'm not talking about a big elevator either! The elevator in my building probably has the area of a medium sized bathroom stall.

In the US, whenever the elevator door opens and you see a lot of people, you are expected to courteously wait for the next one. Here in Venezuela, when the elevator door opens, you quickly peer around the heads and shoulders to see if you can squeeze in too! A dog and extra bags can fit as well, right?

Lines at grocery store, or anywhere else for that matter, also illustrate the lack of personal space down here. When I first moved to Venezuela, I thought that people were rude, cutting in front of me in line! However, I quickly learned that it was because what I considered to be personal space was considered to be public space by everyone else! If you want to keep your place in line down here, you have to roll your cart nearly into the back end of the person in front of you. In fact, sometimes people actually do gently push their carts into you!

Aside from the closeness in line, there is also a wide view of what is "yours" and "mine" down here. For example, the grocery cart isn't "yours." It's a railing for any kid or adult to lean on if they happen to need to squeeze past you or just want a place to put their hand. When I first began encountering this behavior, putting a hand on "my" cart, I felt rather slighted. I have since gotten so used to it that I actually feel like I'm accepted as a Venezuelan when someone does it. I have noticed too that it happens more when someone (or I) strike up a conversation with someone before or behind me in line. That person feels that once dialogue has been opened, so has the cart. I have even had women put their items in my cart while we both wait in line, though for this they do usually ask permission.

There's another element of "yours" and "mine" about shopping down here that is unique to Venezuela. There are constant issues with scarcity, so the stores often limit how much you can buy of prize items. For example, milk is very hard to come by. When it is there, I often some woman will come up to me while I'm in line and ask me in her most persuasive tones, "Would you please do me a little favor? Let me put my 2 milk cartons in your load and I will pay you back right away- I have the money right here, see?" In that way, she can walk away with 4 milk cartons instead of the limited 2. Of course this only works if I am not already buying milk myself. I usually agree to these desperate requests, since I've been on their end of the receiving line many times. I empathize with their need, and I recognize that most of the women who approach me are mothers trying to feed their children and husband as well as themselves.

I feel that I've probably written about this before, but the traffic here follows the example of the grocery store, although with a more aggressive edge. It's every man for himself down here, with no stop signs in town and not enough traffic lights. If you come to a crowded intersection, you nose yourself into the center, wait for the smallest break in the opposing traffic, and barrel through!

Sporadic traffic lights help bring some order to the chaos, but you are welcome to yield for a red rather than actually wait for it to turn green. I admit that I have followed this risky example! I'm sure if you've ever driven late in the evening, you will agree that there are many moments when you feel like it'd be perfectly fine to go, seeing as no one else is going at the moment; even though the light is red. At night here it is expected to ignore the light, since there are safety concerns. No one wants to provide an opportunity for an unwelcome stranger in the dark, just because the light happens to be red.

All in all, by now I've grown accustomed to most of the jostling traffic and the small personal space bubble. The only times when it still continually frustrates me is when people (often kids) touch "my" grocery cart or when my newly formed aggressive driving or line-keeping skills fail and someone cuts in front of me. I realize too that the US is one of the few countries where personal space is considered a priority. I think most cultures have small personal space bubbles, so I have just had to learn to squeeze into a smaller place ;-)

* Cubiro *

When my TA, Jess, told me that we were going to Caracas, I was excited! I have been to Caracas many times, but always in transit or to a professional meeting. I'd never had a chance to explore it. Little did I know that we would barely see the big city on this trip!

I either misunderstood what she told me, or she changed plans and forgot to update me. We ended up driving through Barquisimeto (in the opposite direction) then onwards for another hour or more! I was driving the second car in our caravan, swerving right and left, trying to keep the lead car in my sights as we traversed the mountainsides approaching Cubiro.

The lovely, rural area of Cubiro almost had me in tears with it's confusing ups, downs, curves and potholes! I had been prepared to drive the 3 hours to Caracas, but this extra hour or more of back and forth business was wearing on my nerves, not to mention the fact that no one really knew the way! We had to backtrack at least twice as we stumbling forward, trying to find the elusive back roads to Cubiro.

Our first views of Cubiro began to assuage my pained nerves. The rolling hills of the mountains and the deep shifting shadows began to tantalize my mind and muscles. I was ready to explore!
















The shreds of fabric on the wires below are the signs of trapped kites. Families were flying kites on the hill. Kites are one of the many things sold in the handful of trinket and craft stands on this hillside.



I became mesmerized by the large goats grazing on the hillside below. I took many pictures, but wasn't able to capture the playful moment of watching the goats scooting their heads here and there for a tasty clump of grass. Perhaps a video clip would have done the trick!



                



After we had taken a look at the mountains surrounding us, we quickly turned out attention to the horses! We had parked our cars right by this horse track, and it was only 50 Bs for a ride around the track (50 Bs is how much a gourmet donut costs down here)! The horses were "caballos automaticos," a phrase I learned in Mexico, jokingly meaning, "automatic horses." This means that the horse knew where to go so I didn't have to learn how to master her or rely on a guide to ride the track ;-)  I was relieved to see that my horse did respond very quickly to the little bit of direction I did giver her though, which was only to give ourselves a little more distance from the horses traveling next to us.





After we went horseback riding, we looked at some of the trinkets and crafts of the vendors there. I didn't think to take any pictures of that, since it resembled so many other little market areas I've been too. I realize now that I've never photographed any of the market places down here, so I'll have to do that in the future!

Trinket shopping got old eventually, so we all hopped onto a very rickety truck, probably originally built for cattle, and road down to a ravine. We held on tight as the tipsy truck grunted and swayed dangerously over deep ditches and broken areas of the steeply slanted pavement. We were all grateful when we reached the bottom, though we had laughed with each other about the sloppy ride rather than dwell on the potential danger.

The truck stopped in an open dirt area where one or two other such trucks were parked. We got out and looked to one side, then to the other. We could see that the ravine started on the right and flowed in front of us, continuing to the left. Mutually, we started wandering down the pathway to the right.

We had to climb over a rocky, somewhat steep path, but soon reached the bottom of the ravine. Most of us took off our chalky shoes and let our warm feet cool off in the cold mountain stream.



While we were cooling our feet off, the young guys in our group started to head down the stream, exploring. The two younger ladies and I soon followed along. After scrabbling over many slippery rocks, we turned a corner and saw that the guys had discovered a pool under a small cave. The water was far too cold for our liking, but we chuckled as we saw them enjoying the water. I enjoyed watching the reflection of the rushing stream twinkle on the surface of the wet cave above.

There were a few cavernous areas along the part of the stream that we explored, but unfortunately none of us caught a good photo of them. Suffice it to say, we were glad we had made our careful way over the rocks in order to see them!

When we were done clambering over rocks and looking at the caves, we made our way back to the path and put our shoes back on. Time to head back to the top of the mountainside!

I can't remember if we ate before or after our trek along the river, but I have to mention the delicious food! What a tasty lunch it was!

We had gone looking for lunch along the street we took to get to the horse area. There were many street vendors there, selling food, desserts or arts and crafts. Some of the food places had huge pots of boiling corn cobs or a homemade soup. Almost all of the small open restaurants had arrepas or cachapas (check out my other blogs for more info on these local foods).

The scent that my nose followed came from one of the larger open restaurants. A woman was grilling some sumptuous-smelling chicken. I never find chicken in my local grocery store, and I'm not very good at cooking it when I do, so when I see it in restaurants it always catches my attention.

When I sat down to lunch with everyone, the only food I had a taste for at the time was this chicken. I was determined to get a good portion of it, so I ordered it alone! It isn't normal to do such a thing, so I ended up with a medium sized plate of rice, chicken, and the ever present coleslaw salad, which turned out to be decent side dishes. The chicken was simply wonderful! I've never had such juicy, yet crispy fried chicken! I think even my southern friends would have agreed that this chicken rivaled Popeyes. I would gladly pay three times what I paid for that meal in order to taste it again!

When the sun was still warm on our backs, we were told it was time to go. The long ride home was already looming in our minds, and most of us had work the next day. Thankfully, we only had one back-tracking incident at the beginning or our return journey, and the rest was a long but safe ride home.

As I look again at these pictures and remember our adventures there, I am reminded for the thousandth time that Venezuela is a beautiful country, full of natural and cultural delights. I am always being introduced to new and exciting places and experiences!

* Of Hibiscus, Mangos, and handmade Soaps *

Below is a lovely hibiscus that was bravely growing on the fence that runs behind the foursquare area outside. It's a miracle that it's gentle petals didn't get destroyed by a miss-aimed ball! 

At the time I took this picture below, I thought this was the biggest mango I'd ever see! Since then, I've seen several that have reached this size, but it still amazes me every time I hold one! What a juicy and delicious mess it is to eat them too ;-)

In contrast to the mammoth mango, below is the tiniest mango I've seen! It almost felt a crime to eat it, but it was delicious ;-)

One of my students last year wrote a "how to" on handmade soaps. She brought in one soap for each student and teacher in our classroom on the day she presented her work! We were all excited to receive ours. Mine is below. 

This group of soaps is a sampling of the other soaps. What a neat gift idea, I thought!

* Angel Falls! *

In order to get to Angel Falls, even from my city in Venezuela, you have to travel a long way! I traveled with my friend Kelley, and our first stop was Puerto Ordaz. We flew there and were greeted by our first travel guide. He brought us to Cachamay park, where we were immediately entertained by the antics of the monkeys! They seemed to be everywhere: grooming each other in the trees, watching us curiously from a short distance, or perching themselves upon a rock in order to see if their friends were nearby. This monkey below felt that the boy at the picnic table would surely give him a snack if he ventured over and looked cute ;-)

As you can see, many of the trees in the park were huge!

We had no idea that Puerto Ordaz held such beauty! I had thought of it as a busy city, or maybe a beach city, but we found an expanse of many short but powerful waterfalls along the river flowing through the park.

This was the first of many small canoe-type motor boats that people braved across the rushing rivers which flow beneath the waterfalls in Venezuela.

The clouds in this picture were our first clue that a storm was brewing. Nevertheless, with hearts set on adventure and minds set to expect the best, we continued walking along the river and marveling at the rushing waterfalls and the unique flowers and trees. Once we were far enough away from the refuge of the gazebos and roofed park areas, the deluge began! Kelley and I ran through the rain, covering a good quarter of a mile before we regained the first little abandoned park shelter. The entire front of out outfits were soaked, and the mud speckles on my ankles began to itch. Our feet and shoes were thoroughly soaked, but there was nothing to do except wait for the rain to stop before attempting anything further. By the time the rain stopped, we had decided we were used to the mild soak which remained, so we continued our exploration of the city.

We went to the Orinoco mall, the biggest mall I had seen in Venezuela. Since we had barely started our trip, and each of us had carefully packed a tight backpack, leaving little or no room for extra things, we didn't buy anything. We did enjoy window shopping though, and ate a well deserved meal.

After window shopping and a parchita icecream (parchita is passion fruit), we headed to our home for the night- Cunuri Posada (a posada is a motel). I had expected a rather rundown, simple motel room, but the posada was nice! It had an adventurer's taste to it, with artistic pictures and decor.

The view below was enjoyed from the outdoor eating area of our next posada, the one in Canaima. This grand waterfall was one of the many we saw in Canaima. These tepuis (the plateau/bluffs) were the first that we saw and are one of the defining features of the region.

Almost as soon as I set foot in our posada, I told our tour guide that I wanted an air tour of Angel Falls. To my surprise, he made a phone call, then came over and told me we would leave immediately for that tour! Kelley and I, and a group that we had just met from the unloading area at the tiny Canaima landing stip joined us for the flight. We barely fit inside the family-sized plane below. 

Our first views were of the area surrounding the falls, in which we saw many tepuis, never knowing if the next one we saw might be "the" tepui with Angel Falls pouring from its height!

I'm guessing this winding river, which shows up in most of the aerial pictures, is the same which were destined to traverse the next day in order to get to Angel Falls.

Since we were in such a tiny plane, we were able to get quite close to the sides of the tepuis.

Finally, our first view of Angel Falls! Unfortunately, our pictures here don't do it justice at all. Our pilot was doing some neat and stomach-jerking maneuvers, so we were unable to get good pictures. However, I remember the view of Angel Falls growing quickly and massively before my eyes. I was moved to tears by the sight! I'd wanted to see Angel Falls ever since I was a teenager, so this was a dream come true.

These grainy windows are another of the reasons it was hard to get a good picture of the falls.

Upon our return, we were brought to a neighboring posada in which we could pay for the flight. At this posada were several parrots, 2 or three of which looked just like him:

The man who arranged our payment owned this sweet and friendly parrot named Blue. He allowed us to pet him, nuzzling his head on the rock when he wanted some more attention.

Alexis, one of our group, was the first to brave an encounter with the bird (most of us having very little experience with large-beaked, semi-wild birds). The bird welcomed his touch by stepping onto his hand as a perch!

I was delighted when Alexis suggested I give it a try myself. The bird willingly obliged! He stayed on my arm long enough to be adored, then climbed up to my shoulder and flew off!

After our plane adventure, we returned to the beauty of our posada.

We ate a hearty late afternoon lunch, then soon set off for our first waterfall adventure, though not to Angel Falls. It would take us a full four hours just to reach Angel Falls, so we didn't head out to see it until the next day. This afternoon trip was to the waterfall that we could see from the dining area of our posada. I can't remember the name of it at the moment, but it was something like "Sukui" falls. I'll set the name aright when I remember to ask Kelley about it.

         This is the top of the waterfall, but the most amazing view we had was from behind the waterfall! Our guide led us right behind the powerful torrent! Kelley and I were afraid to pass behind such crushing loads of water, seeing that the water poured over into much of the trail, with only a rope to prevent us from slipping down into the pouring water! However, Kelley decided she was getting more scared just watching the water, so she threw caution to the wind and took the rope, climbing carefully through the deluge. I figured if she could do it, I sure as goodness could do it too, so I followed. What a thrill to come so close to such a powerful waterfall, and yet not be swept away! It was amazing, though I am grateful none of us was washed away by what seemed to me to be a very threatening possibility of disaster.

Here was our resident dog who took as much joy in the adventure as any of us! He was a wild dog, but he spent much of his time at the posada, and took whatever tour opportunities which pleased him. Our tour guide was familiar with him and didn't mind the company ;-)  As a matter of fact, the dog knew the paths as well as our guide did, so I was comforted to see him trotting ahead of us, leading the way.

Here is an area that had probably recently burned, hence the black roots. Wildfires are common in my city during the dry season and also occur in Canaima. I saw the blackened roots all over the mountain with the waterfall. I think I remember seeing more if it in some of the land we crossed to get to Angel Falls as well.

Here is the view of the fall by our posada, but from the other side of the lake, where we started and ended our tour. It is this same waterfall which we went behind!

I was impressed that palm trees grew right alongside the tropical trees of the rainforest. The rainforest area near my school only has the tropical trees, no palms.

Upon our return to the posada, I was impressed by this lantern. It seemed out of place, yet unique and intriguing in the half light. I was reminded of the lantern in the wood in "The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe."

Again, more views of the same waterfall, and the area right in front of our posada.

Our own posada, amidst the many others at our camp.

The decorative palm branch roof of our dining area.

Another decorative roof in the adjoining lounge area of the dining floor.

The docking area of the ever common canoe boats that everyone used on the rushing rivers of the falls.

The next day we finally set forth to see Angel Falls, first from the edge of our boat, then on the mountain which housed the beauteous fall.

Before we got to the fall, there was an area of strong rapids. We were asked to disembark and walk for about 20 minutes, meeting the boat on the far side of the stretch. In this way, the navigator of our little boat could travel much more quickly through the rapids, since the boat was much lighter without us!

The abandoned feel of the place gave me a sense of the reverence and awe which the native people must have felt for the land when they lived free in it. It was beautiful, and seemingly untouched, not willing that any should build upon its wild and unpolluted expanse.

Once back in our boat, we eagerly watched as each tepui passed, wondering which one would have our beloved waterfall!

It took us nearly 4 hours to reach this spot, so when we finally beheld Angel Falls from the edge of our boat, we breathed out both in awe and relief! Our sore bodies called for a rest, and our eyes were aching for this much needed view of the fall.

After we got out of our boat, we had a 45 minute trek ahead of us, after which we finally turned a corner and were greeted with a huge bolder, on top of which we saw this view. My eyes started tearing up again, and I just sat and gazed in wonder.

Below you can see the slanted boulder which I was precariously sitting on, the plunge beneath being some hundred feet down!

I write this next piece in embarrassment, but feel that it is necessary for me to write it in case it should prevent such an event from ever happening to you. After we had viewed the falls from this boulder for about 15 minutes, our guide said, "Bajamos!" which means "Let's go down." I felt shortchanged, seeing as we'd only been on the boulder for such a short time. After the last of the group turned to go, I told her that I would stay behind for a few minutes, taking one last look at the fall.

When I began my descent down the mountainside, I saw no sign of my group ahead of me, even though I could see the trail quite a ways ahead. This concerned me, so I quickly continued down the mountain, looking up expectantly every few steps, hoping to see my comrades. However, even though I went as quickly as I could, I still didn't see any sign of them. My fears grew, but it didn't occur to me until I'd gone about half the way down, that they may have taken a different route. I didn't think there was any point in going back the way I'd come, since I had no assurance of which way they'd gone, so I continued down the mountain, spraining my toe badly in my hurry.

Once I finally reached the river again, I saw that I'd somehow come the wrong way! Instead of the narrow rocky strip which led to the point where we'd left our boat, I was met with an expanse of rocks, then either a section of bushes, or the rushing river. After carefully, yet quickly, stepping from one rock to the next, I finally got close enough to the edge of the river to see that I was certainly not close to any camp or boat. I stepped back to the edge of the forest, beginning to despair. Now in full survival mode, I quickly decided to go back the way I'd come, until I saw the couple whom I'd passed earlier. They had looked like they knew where they were going, so I would follow them, and at least I would be able to go with them to their camp, and ask their group if they knew where mine had got off to.

After a fearful 7 minutes or so, I did meet up with the couple. They willingly allowed me to follow them, but once we reached the area where my boat had been, we saw neither their group, nor mine, nor even a boat. They told me that they had headed down early, and weren't expecting their group till a bit later. I waited as well, finding a good deal of security in their company, but miserably worried about what had happened to mine. I knew they must have taken a different way, or had left without me.

Finally, after what was probably an hour's wait, the couples' group came. I asked their guide about my group, and he kindly offered to find someone who could take me to my camp. A man brought up his boat to the point not long after, and he offered to take me to my camp. Not long after that, my own group showed up! They told me that they'd been looking for me, to which I began to feel guilty for having decided to stay on my own, viewing the falls while the rest of the group had set off without me.

They had gone even further up the mountain, to the pool at the very base of the fall. In essence, I had missed a full hour of viewing of the falls... I felt like an idiot, having gone astray, causing the group undue concern, and missing my biggest view of the fall. 

Suffice it to say I've learned my lesson- never leave your tour group, especially if you haven't talked it over with the tour guide!

I was hugely disappointed in the loss, but also greatly relieved at being reunited with my group! we proceeded to ride in our boat to the camp where we would spend the night in a hammock.

The hammocks themselves were fairly comfortable, but each hammock was tied to the same post as the adjoining hammock. Every time the person across from you turned over, your hammock would shudder. Anytime someone needed to use the bathroom, he or she might bump rather violently into your hammock, which disturbed the sleep you had slipped into. Needless to say, my night was not one of deep sleep. Nevertheless, I imagined that sleeping in the same area with so many others would be much more noisy and frustrating than it was.

This toad was large enough to comfortably cover my entire hand! There were at least 2 of these large inhabitants under our tent, along with a tree frog of equal size! I found them fascinatingly large, but wished they'd chosen another area to live after hearing them croak loudly through the night.

Here is a wild and powerful waterfall close to our posada of the night before- the one across from the waterfall which we climbed behind. We saw it on our journey back through Canaima, on our way home.

A couple of people kindly offered to take pictures of me when I happened to be alone for a bit, not being able to take my own picture, of course. This picture was taken by one of our group- the father of a family who stayed at the same posada with us, and who had traveled on the Angel Falls journey with us.