Caracas - The city of tall ugly buildings!
Trip Start
Jun 06, 2006
1
4
62
Trip End
Dec 01, 2006
Caracas,
Central Venezuela,
Venezuela
Thursday, June 15, 2006
Beetlemania
. Itīs supposed to not be quite as safe as Altimira which is the more upmarket and wealthier area of Caracas but it certainly had more character. Iīve heard a lot about security issues in Caracas from locals and foreigners alike and safety seems to be quite a concern. Maybe we were just lucky but nothing bad happened to us (thankfully) and I never felt threatened walking around Caracas even at night. But then I was walking around with Stan, my big red headed man! In Sabane Grande, there is a huge street market that is set up everyday. Street markets are a major part of Venezuelan life. There are proper shops with airconditioning and glass windows and all that but most of the shopping is done in the street markets. So you get a Janpath (major street market of Delhi) sort of market on quite a few streets of Caracas. Every morning people bring their wares and painstakingly set up their stalls displaying their wordly goods on offer to all those who might care. And every night they dismantle thier stalls, pile up the naked mannequins and wheel them to somewhere for the night. It is quite a dramatic change, from morning to night, with all the bustling street life suddenly disappearing for the day with only a few hardcore shopkeepers left behind.
What struck me as most fascinating however were the little telephone stalls/kiosks/tables/trees that exist all over the country
Fat Tyres
. First I thought it was just a street market phenomenon for all those whose phones had died or were stolen or simply forgotten at home. But then after traveling around a bit more, I realised they were everywhere. Basically, you get one person who has about five different mobile phones or wireless landline instruments sometimes attached with chains to a pole or a tree or a person but usually just a table. There are set rates for different service providers. It proves to be cheaper to call a different network from one of these booths than from your own phone because of network competition. So it probably is the bane of Venezuelan mobile service providers as the people have leant how to beat the system or work it to their own advantage. Transportation in Caracas is quite good with a metro system in place and expanding by the year. There are also taxis, mototaxis (motorcycle taxis), metrobuses, private buses and probably more stuff that I am not aware of. The metro is very efficient and very quick but not very clean. The taxis donīt have any meters so you have to bargain before you get in. Stan has a lot of practice at that as he was quite used to doing it with the autorickshaws in Delhi. I didnīt go on a mototaxi as it only takes one person and I really didnīt feel like being in the middle of Caracas traffic sitting behind some guy driving like a maniac at the speed of 80. Thatīs fun only when you are in the drivers seat yourself
Who´s taller?
! The buses are a good way of getting around the city and the country and you donīt have to fight to get into one as the Venezuelans are surprisingly very disciplined when it comes to queing for a bus. They very peacefully form a queue and no one tries to jump over another persons head once the bus arrives and therefore every one gets on and goes home happily. That is definitely a lesson the Indians need to learn! The traffic is quite similar to Delhi traffic, chaotic, polluting, noisy, maniac and hot. But they do have some inclination for lanes but not for too long. Sudden lane changing without any prior indication is quite common. As is honking, jumping traffic lights, speeding, not wearing seat belts and playing music at an insanely loud volume! Sound familiar anyone?Even though everyone has a car you still see a lot of people using public transport which is great. Because of oil being so cheap and because it is a hilly country driving is how you get around. But the abundance of oil has also led to wastage and a certain taking it for granted. People leave their cars running for half an hour, hour etc. And the cars are soooooooooooooo old its not funny. When I first saw the cars here I thought I was watching an old American herbie movie or cowboy movie with so many beetles and datsons (have I even spelt that right?) around. And then there are the chevys and dodges and ford trucks and every single old american car you can imagine with huge tyres. I guess rubber is very cheap too here! Even the public buses are left running! Which inevitably leads me to think that there is a lot of wastage. But then there is a lot of wastage in America as well with one person driving a fuel guzzling SUV and they would not dream of changing to a more fuel efficient car. The bigger the better I think is the common philosphy! All I can say is that at least the Venezuelans donīt go to war for it! Maybe someday we will all learn not to waste the fossil fuels that we have and maybe that day will come before the fuel runs out.
Food was a bit disappointing in Venezuela. I swear I will never ever eat ham and cheese again even if it is the absoluetly last thing to eat on this planet. They put it in everything, sweet, savoury, bitter whatever. You ask for eggs and they will have ham in it. Ask for a queso (cheese) empanada and it will have ham in it. No escape. The food in the restaurants was expensive and quite bland but some did have salsa picante (hot) so that helped a bit. However, it was street food that we mostly lived on. All over the country there are thousands of little carts with hot plates selling hamburgers and hot dogs loaded with all kinds of stuff and various different sauces. There is also a lot of Chinese and Japanese food available, especially in the posher part of town. Sadly, there was no Indian food whatsoever. There used to be a vegetarian outlet in Sabane Grande but it was shut, locked and sealed when we got there. So a tip for all the budding entrepreneurs out there, tap into the Indian restaurant business in South America and you will make your millions for sure!
Drinking is mainly limited to beer and rum, the national favourites. The beer bottles however are very small (222 ml) and disappear in a couple of gulps. Stan always had to order two at a time for himself because by the time he got back from the bar he would have finished one bottle. The reason behind it, as stated in the guidebook is that the Venezuelans like their beer very cold. I personally think its just another clever marketing strategy devised by Polar, by far the biggest beverage company in Venezuela, to earn more money per bottle. As I write this, Stan disagrees and is waffling away in the background about some economic theory. I choose however not to believe in economic theory and go with my own logic however skewed it might it be. (Iīm sure my brother the economist will also not agree with me but what the hey, we usually donīt agree about anything these days so why break the trend!) We mostly visited the local bars in Sabane Grande and they were lively every day of the week. Leonīs in Altimira was also nice with a huge outdoor beer garden for the young upcoming lot of Caracas.
The dancing as you can imagine is absolutely fabulous. Music and dancing comes very naturally to every single Venezuelan and they can break into song and dance without any provocation. It was the first time in my life that I thought that every man was as graceful as his woman partner while doing the Salsa. The more comfortable they are with their bodies the better dancers they are and this especially holds true of the women. And since every woman is incredibly comfortable with her body they are all very good dancers. That was one thing that I felt quite happy about here, every single woman, thin, fat, long, short, tall, pink, brown, white, green were all quite comfortable with their bodies and their sexuality. They all wore tight skimpy clothes and were not ashamed of the extra flesh or the lack of it and were quite happy to flaunt it. I thought I was being a prude when I kept thinking that maybe their clothes were too tight and they certainly looked very uncomfortable. Maybe I wasnīt used to it coming from India and never would be. But there was something mandatory about the tightness and skimpiness of the clothes, every single woman had to wear them regardless of age, race or religion. And they looked at me funny walking around in my baggy fab india sleeveless tops. For whose benefit do they dress like that, their own or anothers?
More on that later. Iīm exhausted of typing and my beer awaits me.
