Venezuela says Yes to Crack

There´s a lot to tell about the past few days.

When I was getting my money at the Western Union, I met two girls from Germany. They were in jail for narco-trafficing, but only had to go there at night, had a key to get in and out and had free internet. One of them told me it was a five star jail. I sure seem to meet people closer to the bottom of the totem pole, but they are the people I like. Life is real down here, and with out the bottom of the pole, there would be nothing to hold the top up.

I bought my plane ticket which holds me in Dallas one night against my wishes. It´s going to cost a lot for that one night I am sure. I hope things go ok because the number I took to be in line at the office was 666. As soon as that was out of the way, I headed for Henri Pittier National Park. The name of the town I quickly saw in my Lonely Planet was Playón. I later saw that it wasn´t by any means the most highly rated spot in the park, but it turned out to be good for me.

I went hotel shopping and the cheapest ended up being right by the beach. Most of the rooms started at $30, but they had one for $13 that I took for two nights as I was worried that the town would fill up Saturday night. It was the first time I booked a place for more than one night at a time even though I wasn´t too impressed with the town.

After that, I went to the beach which was ok, but nothing to write home about – oh, that´s what I´m doing. There weren´t many people hanging out for a Friday night at the concrete square just off the beach, but I chatted with a guy who said he painted clothes and sold them for a living. It´s nice when people take the time to understand my Spanish. He told me to go to another beach the next day which was a 15 minute bus ride away.

I took his advice, and it was a nice beach. There were hundreds of people there, but there was room for everyone. I didn´t find people very chatty, but I really enjoyed swimming in the turquoise water and looking at the spectacular scenery which brings me to today´s title. About 1 in 5 women here wear thong bikinis. Surprisingly it is a style that transcends the age and size of the ass the thong is in. It seemed most popular with mothers, but some women over 40 would wear them as well as children that were just entering their teens. It must have something to do with the name of Venezuela´s capitol, Caracas.

I find the cultural differences relating to sexuality peculiar between Canada and Venezuela and South America in general. For instance, no girl I know in Canada would wear a thong to the beach, but some don´t mind letting the boobies hang free whereas no girl would let the girls out here. Hugging in Canada is really common between men and women. Here, girls flinch more if I try to give them a hug than they would if I grabbed their ass. If a girl gives you a hug here, chances are you will be going for a roll in the hay in no time. Teenage pregnancy is as much the norm as it isn´t here. I met one proud mother of 6 who was 21. I now see teenage pregnancy as a natural current that we strongly swim against at home. Here, society drifts on down the stream.

I noticed the most beautiful girls on the beach were walking up and down, selling handmade jewellery. They stopped where I was swimming and played a popular game, batting a ball back and forth with paddles and then took turns swimming. They were far too beautiful for me to try to say something cleaver in Spanish to. I thought they had the perfect life, doing some easy work and taking some great breaks on the beach. There was a big storm starting to roll in so I headed for the bus stop.

By time the bus arrived, it was raining as hard as I have ever experienced. When I got to Playón, it was still raining. I took shelter under a roof of a store than hung out into the street and bought a beer. The cute beach vendor chicas were there too. Some guys were trying to make time, but the girls didn´t seem to happy about it though they did show some grace. To my surprise, one started talking to me. Yessica and Nairobi were to become good friends of mine in no time. They were cousins from Caracas and had been in Playón two months. They were going back to Caracas in two days because they liked living there more. That statement baffled me. It rained for a while and after some time I offered to buy them beer. They wanted something called Malta instead. It was cheaper and darker, but similar to beer. I tried a sip, and it tasted like beer before it is fermented, really sweet. I didn´t like it much. When the rain stopped, we arranged to meet at the beach later that night.

When I got there, they had a table of stuff set up with a local guy that was about my age named Israel. He was a real character with lots of latino energy and a voice that sounded like it came from a vibrator for people who had their voice box removed. It seemed like he was helping and looking out for Nairobi and Yessica as they were only 18 years old, freshly away from home. The girls went to bed a bit early as they had a big Sunday planned for sales the next day on the other beach. Israel asked me which girls I liked here. I said that the nicest ones just left. He really showed his latino spirit when he said,¨I like them all.¨

I hung out with Israel and bought a boar tooth necklace off of him. He really had some nice work, particularly a talent for bending wire. He might have been the only guy in town who spoke a little English which was nice. After a few beers, I was ready for bed. He was talking to a cab driver friend of his who was really drunk. When I said good night, he told me I couldn´t leave because some girls from Caracas that he knew had just shown up. When he told them I was from Canada, they screamed and danced around as tourists seem rare in Venezuela and there weren´t any foreigners in Playón.

It was time for a whiskey run, so Israel insisted I jump in the cab. He probably wanted me to chip in, but I think he was more afraid to leave me alone with the chicas. He probably thought that I might be in my hotel with all three before he got back. The liquor store that was still open wanted too much for a 40 in Playón, so we went to the next town where it was the same price anyway. The driver was Israel´s friend and had a drunk permasmile and his eyes were so squinted that I never did see them. It was a little sketchy, but no more so than most of the bus rides in Peru and Columbia. It didn´t seem to be a problem with the police as one officer was right there when he was getting in his car and it was obvious that he was really drunk and he had some whiskey on the rocks in his hand.

It was a cool beach small town scene in Playón. There were about 8 or 10 teenagers with moto scooters looking cool – some with shades. Other taxi drivers were drinking by their cars, taking the occasional fare. There were some guys playing percussion instruments on the beach and had great beats going. They took long breaks so then we would dance to whatever music was being blasted from the car with the loudest stereo. Israel sure was a good dancer. When he started dancing with the cutest girl, she had bedroom eyes at him that lasted the rest of the night except when she was trying to hide it from her friends. One girl wanted my necklace really bad. I told her that I wanted 20 babies for it, but pointed to another Israel had for sale that would be her´s for only 3 babies. I figured this was probably a typical South American negotiation. One time when I told a guy I was 30, he said,¨Well your young in Canada, but your old here.¨ The cab driver was too drunk to walk, so he drove home. Twice, when I said I was leaving, Israel gave me a big hug and said that I can never leave. Finally I managed to escape.

The next day I got to the beach at about 11. The girls were getting ready to go to the other beach. I think that they stuck around longer to watch Israel. I don´t think he went to bed or stopped drinking because he was a mess. He had his table set up, and people jumped back from the smell of his breath when he would talk to them. A couple of other guys that were there the night before were in similar condition, but Israel was a disaster. I felt a little crappy, but a couple of hours swimming in the ocean had me feeling a lot better. It was a crouded day, but there is always space in the ocean.

When I got back to the square, there was a cool jeep with the hatch open, blasting Spanish hip hop from a wall of speakers pointing at the beach. Israel, was singing and dancing to the music and introduced me to the jeeps owner, a huge black guy who was a Venezuelan boxing champ. He was cool and relaxed and told me that he liked Canada because he beat a Canadian in the Olympics. I felt like I was in a Snoop Dog video or something. Some other guy was passing a 40 of some Sambuca type stuff around. I was surprised that I was enjoying it again as a rarely drink two days in a row.

I had enough of the hip hop and went for another swim. I left my shirt and camera in the care of the vendors. When I got back, my shirt was gone with the hotel key, shades and camera in the pocket. Nairobi and Yessica were back and explained that Israel was in jail. Another person told me he was in my shirt when he was arrested. Apparently he was caught peeing on the beach so he desirved to be in jail but my shirt was entirely innocent. A guy went to the police station which was right beside the square and they told him that Israel was in Jail in the next town and would be out tomorrow. Nairobi offered to go with me to get my stuff as she had to ask him what he wanted her to do with his stuff that was still on display. It turned out not to be necessary as a cop dropped off a bunch of stuff to us including my shirt with all the stuffin it and Israel´s pants. I wish I would have had a chance to say goodbye to him. Maybe he will be there next year.

I chatted with Yessica most of the rest of the evening. I really liked her. She understood my Spanish better than anyone else, and knew how to repeat things with different words in a way I would understand. She was also really mellow for a latino and had a big heart. As the night fell, the girls took their jewellery back to their house for the last time in Payón. They said they were coming back and we would swim together. It was really nice watching the stars, and swimming with the girls. None of us wanted to leave as we were going to Caracas the next day. They left early in the morning, I slept in. I think there plan was to go right back to work when they got home. I don´t think many people take days off here. When I would ask them how buisness was, they always smiled and said they sold lots. We will probably have dinner together tomorrow before I leave. They insisted I call.

What a great time in a sleepy little town. It was the perfect mix between experiencing culture (travel) and having good times (vacation). I really want to come back to Columbia and Venezuela, but spend at least a month in each country. The people on the Caribbean cost have been the warmest people I have met. It´s really cool how the beautiful girls who I expect to be cold turn out to be really nice here. When you look at them, they look away and kind of put their nose in the air. If you talk to them, the perceived wall crumbles and from behind it emerges a warm person. Even the tourists, though few, are a lot more interesting and fun than those in the other countries. There are a lot of other places I have been told to check out in Venezuela including an island called Margarita. There are also a lot fo national parks.

I´m looking forward to being home. I have a lot of insect bites on my feet and there won´t be any bugs in Canada in November. Two months was a good period of time. I think that I would be more comfortable if I didn´t travel so fast and would have had more time with the good people I met instead of needing to move on. I´d really like to be back here in a year. I sort of feel like this was a learning experience for how and where to travel in the future. I also have more desire to learn Spanish. When I am using words I am familiar with, I feel like a more passionate, expressive person when I speak.