my favorite bakery of all time. this guy was the nicest in all of caracas and took special care that I would get precisely what I wanted each day. notice the monster avacados in front here are some other cauchito and crossaint cooks in the back room at a bakery nearer to my place in parque del este. - sorry about the head tilt

the girls are enjoying perros calientes after a lively night at a caracas bar
I have to wonder what these women were up to... it's not exactly a people watching position
floor waxing in metro caracas- I see these people nearly every day. The floors couldn't be cleaner
That's where I live... well, almost- actually its a little to the left, the building with the blue slanted roof
the Optimal English office in Caracas... this is where the magic happens, by that I mean- we pick up our weekly checks here.

the countdown is on

Everytime she looks at me- its as if she has a corn cob up her you-know-what. She's messing up the order of the entire apartment- empty milk cartons in the sink, chairs in disarray, kitchen towels in on the refrigerator instead of the stove, and I KNOW she peeps into my room-but the pained look she gives me is by far the worst. This, after a 2 week period without Karen and she brings her mom back with her from Barquisimeto. Karen is bad enough by herself to live with. She blabs and blabs and blabs while standing in front of the TV, or in front of whatever I am doing at the moment, even the computer keyboard if she has to. I was trying to listen to Alejandro Sanz on some stupid awards show the other night and she stood in front of me with her loud, shreiking laugh and bright shining mouth full of metal and rubber bands to tell me why she was laughing so hard. "Karen, I don't care"...but she just kept on. She was convinced I needed to know that while I didn't let this strange woman (her mother) in the apartment right away- her mom had a belly ache and needed to poop. She must have tried to explain this in every possible way she could think of... actions and all...but my response was only of disgust. she wanted to make sure I understood. I don't know how the girls who lived here before did it. This chick is crazy. Pretty sure I'm not the easiest person to live with either- ask ANY one of my roomates, but she's out of hand.

Ok, now that that's off my chest I feel better and am ready to continue with bigger and better things. I got hit by a car last weekend. While rushing out of the metro mass rush I pushed against someone dropping their cell phone into the gap- gone forever, they should've had a tighter grip. I broke my 5th pair of sandals while being here and went barefoot at the bar all night. I got caught up watching a Seinfeld marathon before Saturday night fever in the comfort of the San Ignacio bar beds and bean bags. Phil Collins even distracted me with a televised concert for at least an hour. (I didn't think I would ever admit such a thing, but it was a good show)
Now, I am just continuing to procrastinate. I am leaving soon for Colombia. When? When you ask? well, that's just it. I haven't gotten my ticket yet. I think I'll head out Friday night towards Barranquilla by bus. Can I get some advice from seasoned land travelers to Colombia or Colombians? I am debating going through Cucuta or Maracaibo on my way to Barranquilla, (Cartagena, Medellín, and Bogota.) I heard that Maracaibo is slightly more tricky with mostly jungle, guerrillas, and a super long line for checking passports. Cucuta on the other hand, I've heard has had some situations that has caused them to have a bad name. Anyone want to shoot me some advice before I solidify my ticket? I would greatly appreciate it!

I didn't get hurt by the car hit... it was really just a bump in which I threw myself onto the hood to make the driver feel bad. It worked, he looked worried. And the only bad thing about going barefoot at the bar was cleaning my dogs for 20 minutes each the next day. I'm considering a pedicure before moving on, it's like $2.50

For those of you not on nomadlife.org: if you have some time to check out this site, it's really something www.nomadlife.org I was unable to pull myself away from it a few days ago. Stories about smoking chimps, marriage festivals, and other crazy stuff appears here. (check out stories from the 26th) It's also a great place to get a first hand read about other places in the world. These people are all just like me only in different places and tell amazing stories.

The long awaited t-shirt of the day saying is: TAKE ME AWAY, SO SWEET, SO GOOD, COOKIE GIRLS

heading west, the only place I haven't been this weekend

Friday I decided it was time to check out the far east side of Caracas- Petare- the ever dreaded-Petare- Getting a bus was a cinch for Delia, it was me, the 3rd and last one to get on that had to run along side until they made enough room for me to squeeze into the door frame. But give and take, right? Delia and Guillermina who got into a stopped bus, were now smooshed against other bodies inside- I had the comfort of hanging outside the door with a fabulous breeze waving me in the wind. If only being stuck there in the door could've allowed me to reach for my camera I would now have first hand close-ups of my memories seeing raw markets and streets of South America packed with people and goods of every kind. I think I may go back, it reminded me of the 7 kilometer market outside Odessa. Better than Target... ok, that's a lie. But the produce looked amazing.
Saturday I felt the wrath of Karen. Well, not really- I pretended I didn't really know what she was saying to me at 730 in the morning and honestly was to cool to care. Something about not being a hotel, you can't have guys over... blah blah blah. Now this sounds a bit racy so I will explain for the sake of my parents: the "guys" as I call them work with me, both of which have recently been kicked out of their apartments for insane Venezuelan circumstances. The good friend I am, put a roof over there head during the pouring rain, kept their bodies hydrated and fed, accompanied them with intellectual conversation, and we even got into a deep decipherization about my favoite wall poem- until I went to the beach the following morning with my roomate, Karen. I think it was the right thing to do. She only has to put up with my accomodating ways and humanitarian efforts until the end of the month.
I slept on the beach and it started to rain big drops but scarcely, I came out of my coma to feel them more and more. Comfortably deciding that it felt really good on my super hot skin I went right back to sleep in the rain. The ride home after a vital Wendy's stop found me sleeping to loud music in the back only to get my head jolted by the car next to us who was trying to pass. Monica wasn't pleased, her car is quite new and now with a thick, dark blue streak that covers the back door she was in no state to see or hear what she was causing all around us. She stopped there, in the left lane of 2 going the same direction in heavy traffic- the dark blue car stopped behind us. The backup of cars had to reach many, many kilometers by the time we were on our way again. A hot-headed bus driver was passing us on the right side when simultaneously a walking ice cream vendor passed in front of us. The ice cream man almost got himself stuck between the our car and the bus, I was scared for him. The evening brought us safely home through more rain and I was able to find a good size arm of aloe on the 6th floor to help heal some areas of my red skin. Success at a beach in La Guaira!

shirt saying sunday: LOVE DANCE FLOOR


CONGRATULATIONS SHALON & JAKE!!!!!!!!! I think it will be a boy!!!! YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!

preparing for times of war

Somewhere between explaining the "th" sound with and without air I got into an interesting conversation with 2 of my students about what will happen toVenezuela in the next couple of years. Seems that every Venezuelan you talk to has a backup plan to leave the country when something happens, that's right- not if, when. I think in the back of their minds, they know that something is going to go down here in the next couple/few years. Today my students told me they had no doubt that there would be some sort of war here soon. Perhaps civil, perhaps between neighboring countries, perhaps on a larger scale- but they are confident that it will happen, as are most people. They have places lined up in South America, some in Europe, and few in the states. Few, for the reason that if they go to the states, people will automatically think that they are Mexicans and the social status will be thrown out the window. They have been confident about the upcoming blowout for the past 6 years, precisely how long Chavez has been in power, but now they are just waiting for it to explode in front of them. Will it be when the oil prices fall? Perhaps. I was incredibly ignorant about this whole "oil" thing and how much barrels of oil jumped in price when the war in Iraq started- from $10>>>$67 now. Chavez has tons more money now and has attached himself to the hip of Mr. Castro who is the brains of the operation. Just today I saw a smiling jolly picture of Chavez and Néstor Kirchner, the president of Argentina- apparantly having talks of how to collaborate their efforts to rule the world by creating a communist block from Mexico all the way to Argentina. Not if I have anything to say about it. Once I meet these guys, its ON.

A man's t-shirt has come into the mix: white on black- SI HAY YUCA FRESCA (if you don't understand- understand that it is very bold)

T-SHIRT OF THE WEEK--- subdued in color, but not in content. beige letters on a white shirt: I'M SO HORNY UH! FOR A VERY HOT GUY... WOULD YOU LIKE TO BE THE ONE?
I'm not even kidding. I had to shift my way around in the metro just so I could read all the words, I couldn't believe it... and where do you get something like that? who sells these shirts!!!!

I love accordians

I paced the empty platform for minutes before spotting the only other person that entered the train at the same time I did. It was just plain erie, usually the subway is buzzing, especially at 650am on a weekday. What was happening? I still don't know.
Today was my testing day; 3 classes, 3 exams. Tests are pretty sweet when you don't have to take them- just correct. Between my morning students I made a magnificent breakfast/early lunch smorgasboard for Dan and myself. (Dan is not Venezuelan) There's not much that compares to asparagus flavored pasta, cheese sandwiches, doritos, spicy guacamole, and chit-chat about what really happens on the 3rd floor of our building, at 10 in the morning. Quite an eye-opener.
This week has been filled with quiet nights for me. Thank goodness. I was running out of money on Sunday. In order to survive as long as I did, I couldn't let myself stray from the cheap comforts of home. And as much as it pains me to admit it, I have become completely enthralled with a telenovela here and even passed up our "after spanish class beer" to rush home and see what happened yesterday... nothing televised has had hold of me so much since That 70s Show.
Tomorrow I'll get paid- YESSSSS!!!!!!!!! The trick to cashing your check is to get to the bank before 10am. After that the lines take hours. I can get in and out in 5 minutes when I go early in the morning, but if I wait it can take up to 3 or more hours to simply cash a check. Everyone gets paid on Fridays and when taking a number at Banco Venezuela I can leave and come back an hour later and the number may have moved 16 or 17 numbers- I still have 63 to go until mine. Last time this happened I shmoozed the security guard into getting me in faster. That's definately the trick. Give 'em a cookie or smile real nice and they are happy to get you through quickly.
I'm blogging more these days- I have a computer in my living room. Pardon me if I aimlessly ramble. I'll try for quality at least once a week, the rest is just my fingers trying to keep up with my thoughts.

Thursdays shirt: yellow on black- GIRL NICE

KEEP WALKING

You can't find an unwaxed floor in Caracas.I didn't think about it until Mark (from Margarita's Mark & Jill duo) said something in the airport. Today in the metro I noticed the 2nd maintenence worker this week waxing the floors by the train platform. And metros, well metros here are a whole different world from the rest of Caracas, a whole different world all together. Upon entering there are garbage bins to put any food or drink that you may have because it's not accepted underground. Everything is pristine. No rodents, no bums, no garbage. Exiting is a reality check- the heat (& rain), slaps you in the face. Vendors are there to sell you umbrellas, books, lottery tickets, quarts-- or rather pints of oil. There is the less fortunate asking for money, the smell of the hot dog stand (there are a couple on every block), the traffic's constant hornage, and people everywhere walking at a pretty good pace. But the pace sometimes just stops, they have no problem stopping in the most inopportune places and putting a hitch in everyone elses flow. It bothers me, but no one else seems to mind. On the bus people will bring food and drink, disregarding the signs saying not to do so. I believe their way of following the rules on the sign is to not leave garbage on the bus. They don't bat an eye when throwing out an empty 2 liter soda bottle or a grocery bag with garbage. Anything goes out the window. It's disgusting. There are 4 counties in the city each with a different "mayor" that allocate funds differently. Only 2 of them put effort into maintenence and security. I looked across the street towards Chacaito and saw someone sweeping up the leaves and dirt from the curb. There was nothing else to clean in some areas so they were painting the curbs yellow but across the street where I was, in Sabana Grande, the street was full of old shoes, papers flying everywhere, cans, rum bottles, bums in cardboard, skewed half open garbage bags surrounding me. But the metro- that's clean.


whoa!!! I almost forgot about the daily t-shirt mumbo jumbo: neon green on yellow- WOT YOU LOOKIN AT?

it's going to rain soon

There is a strange woman in the kitchen cooking. The computer guy is drinking someone’s beer. Who is the 15 year old looking at cartoon porn on the computer in the living room? …and this woman eating on the couch, watching T.V.-who is she? and WHERE are my roommates, do they know these people?
It’s all give and take, for sure. I have a great location and also a lot of people that enjoy it right along with me. The 15 year old was a cousin, staying here for a little over a week- always on the internet chatting or looking at raunchy moose cartoons. The computer guy has been over to “fix” our computer 3 or 4 times just since I moved in. He drinks beer, smokes cigarettes and also chats on messenger a majority of the time. I’m not sure what exactly he’s fixing, but I’m sure it needs more work. I was pumped about the woman cooking arepas in the kitchen this morning, but she ended up eating them herself; along with eggs, and the very traditional Cheesewhiz and Nestea. She will supposedly clean my room when I leave, so I just finished pre-cleaning it for her.
Now it’s almost time for class with fabulous Fabiola in Plaza Venezuela- exactly 5 metro stops from my current position. A 12 minute journey from my door to hers. I leave the cleaning lady in charge of … well, of everything. I will return to figure out this laundry thing today. It’s time to face the lavandarías of Caracas.

T-SHIRT of the day: white on bright blue- FABULOUS CHICK

Punky Brewsters fine, she just wears baggy clothes

Moving to Los Palos Grandes was just the beginning of an early August adventure. Not for any particular reason was it weird, it just all added up. Mid week I made lunch for a friend (because my new location easily permits me to do that sort of thing), only to find out cooking for a Venezuelan guy is a no-no unless you are incredibly interested in him. My boss, after cutting some fat at the office, threw many of his coaches a feast on Wednesday complete with a wide assortment of international cheeses, spanish peppers, chilean wine and a view from the top of the city. By Friday, Dan was long gone back to Chicago for the weekend getting me some lifesaver mints and toothbrushes. We were forced to actually go out and find nightlife instead of sitting at Dan's place chillin' and it got a little crazy. I found myself on the streets of Sabana Grande in a 2 door hatch back with 7 people. Arriving at Cordon Blue we found our friends on the red velvet couches. I point out "my type" to Guillermina as he walks by, and her remarkably fast response time arranges for our meeting that was quickly interrupted by Baros (lunch no-no) telling the new guy that "she's with me." Wow, did he really say that... twice? Is it true what they say about Venezuelans? In less than 24 hours time I made plans to go to the beach with a Vene, had to cancel for my own sanities sake and a piece of mind, went with the other Vene instead, found out that "my type" wasn't really my type at all, climbed el avila with the first Vene and called it a weekend. I realize I can be a bad person when it comes to this type of thing, but these guys are really something else... I feel I'm helping them gain experiences, even bad experiences can be learned from, in fact they are probably the most poignant and important ones.


T-SHIRT graphics of the day: white on bright pink tank- "WHAT THE PROS ARE ROCKIN" evenly ripped white tank over the top

I heart CCS

My stay in Caracas has officially been extended until the end of August. I like it here-- I like it A LOT. Since Sunday I am enjoying it even more. I moved to a more central part of the city and now am a block away from the metro, which is huge. Coming from Baruta, my first home in Caracas, it would take me anywhere from an 45 minutes to 1 1/2 hours to get into the center with 2 different buses. The "center" as I call it, isn't really the center of Caracas at all, but it is where I work and play. Now it's all at my fingertips. Granted, there's some give and take... I have lost my in-home laundry facilities and am really missing my bakery boys in Baruta, not to mention the friendliest fruit and vegetable clan in the country. My view is no longer atop a mountain looking to my city below, but of the family opposite me working on their computer and 3 other apartment buildings full of watchful, wondering faces.
But I have the park. The biggest park in the city- Parque del Este- I can see it when I'm taking a shower. Weird but true. My panadería and frutería have been replaced by Excelsior Gama, the biggest supermercado I have ever seen, also visible from the shower window. My english speaking roomate has been replaced by 2 non english speakers improving my spanish in just 2 days. I have a couch and running water- and it's warm. The stove works and I'm even able to use the elevator. Maids quarters, shmades quarters-this is the life I tell you... I hope I can pull myself outta here at the end of the month. If I continue on this path I don't know how I'll get past Peru by December.

I am going to start devoting a segment to the slogans on womens t-shirts here, they are really something...
t-shirt of the day: YOU MAKE ME FEEL SEXY GIRL
Please try to picture a bright orange tight shirt with these big sloppy white and yellow letters covering the entire front, along with the whole ensemble of 2 big orange velcro glittering butterflies in their hair, dangling sparkly earrings, orange eyeshadow, with a sequence orange belt and orange heels. I mean really, the name says it all.