In Caracas

As I sat at an outdoor cafe on a pedestrian mall in the district of Sabana Grande, Caracas, waiting for my dinner to arrive, night began to fall and the darknes crept into the corners of this giant city. Under the security of full daylight, this middle class shopping district is littered with businessmen in suits hustling off to meetings, uniformed school children sharing McFlurrys, twenty-somethings coyly eyeing each other in the cafes, and street merchants selling newspapers, coffee, calling cards and hotdogs. As darkness blanketed the area the shop keepers closed up and covered their windows with metal safety awnings, the pedestrian crowds dwindled then disappeared, and a totally different element began to crawl out from the shadows.

By the time I finished my dinner, the economically and socially marginalized population of Caracas had begun to take over the terrain of the middle class. I quickly exited the streets where I clearly no longer belonged and was whisked back to the posch safe-haven of Alta Mira by an air conditioned, French-designed Metro train.

For a tourist, Caracas can be an imposing if not dangerous place. The same can be said for the locals. A city that had less than three million people in 2001, is now home to nearly 5 million, or almost 20% of all Venezuelans1. Caracas, much like the rest of Venezuela is a city of stark contrasts. Standing in downtown, surrounded by museums and instense traffic, looking up at the sky scrapers, I had the sense of being in one of the most modern and cultured cities that the world has to offer. This feeling was not lost when I went to the Modern Art Museum to explore its four sub-terranean floors of fine works, including an extensive collection of sketches by Picasso. Nor was it lost when I strolled through the glitzy Zambil mall, perusing the Diesel, Armani Exchange, and Lacoste boutiques, when I watched the daily yoga classes in La Estancia park, nor when I rode on the speedy, efficient, cheap and always bustling metro system.

Prior to my arrival here, all of the Venezuelans I met had warned me about how dangerous Caracas is, and urged me not to go. Fellow travellers had reported being scammed and robbed, a few by the police none the less, and the general consensus among everyone that I talked to was that Caracas was not a place where I could ever feel safe or enjoy. After my first day here I was astonished and impressed by what the city had to offer. Aside from the myriad museums (all of which are free- thanks Hugo) and fascinating architecture, Caracas has food being sold out of every single nook and cranny. From the hotdog stands on every corner, to the doughnuts waiting for you at the exit of every metro stop, to the shawarma joints, pizzarias and gourmet restaurants of the upscale neighborhoods, to late night arreperias2 and of course the omnipresent McDonald´s, Caracas has no lack of divirsity of cuisine, nor any shortage of on-demand food available whenever and wherever you want. It was only after spending more time here did I begin to realize the difficulties posed by this complex metropolis.

During the past ten years in Venezuela, inflation has averaged 18% 3. The economic strain and ever increasing prices are felt especially hard here the Capital. Luxury goods like designer clothing, and electronics are priced much higher than what one would pay in the US, sometimes approaching double the cost. Normal food stuffs have increased increased as well. One resident informed me that a kilo of rice had nearly doubled in price since the begining of the year. Going out to eat, even at reasonable restaurants, costs as much and usually more than one would pay in a city such as San Francisco for comprable food.
The economic strain has also lead to the problem of biggest concern for residents of Caracas; personal safety, or lack thereof. Out of the five municipalites that comprise the city of Caracas, only one-Chacao-is safe after dark. This fact impacted what I was able to do as a visitor, and severly cramps the lifestyle of the average Caraqueño4. Chacao is safe because it is the wealthiest area, and thus has enough money to hire an adequate sized police force. Unfortunately for those who are less wealthy yet still wish to enjoy restaurants and nightlife Chacao is totally unaffordable.

Life outside of the city center and the modern infrastructure is something else entirely. Many small town and rural residents who came to Caracas over the past thirty years weren´t able to find adequate housing. The result is something akin to the Favellas of Brazil, ramshakle neighborhoods that sprouted up, precariously balanced on hillsids, connected by staircases, not roads. Homes built of corrugated tin and brick, the residents extremely vulnerable to not only to the earthquakes that raize Caracas from time to time, but also to hunger and lack of access to healthcare. It is the residents of these areas that President Hugo Chavez has focussed on, as they were previously not only economically but also politically marginalized. By providing support for those who had previously been forgotten and through a rigourous publicity campaign to inform the general population of all of the support being provided, Chavez became wildly popular not only with the beneficiaries of these programs, but with members of the middle and upper class that possess a strong social conscience.

The continuation of a massive desparity of wealth, a large percentage of people still living in poverty, as well as lack of effective policing have created the situation of widespread insecurity here. The effects of this shared feeling of insecurity spread far beyond diminished nightlife, but are a part of the day to day and minute by minute interactions of people here. In Caracas, I had a sense that people walked throughout the city with walls up, constantly on guard against against the forces of the city itself- the traffic, the crowds, the pollution, and the crime. In contrast to my experience in the rest of Venezuela, I felt alienated from the public, and got the sense of anonymity and disjointedness that comes with living in a city of this size.
I was lucky enough to have one solid contact here and enjoyed some genuine hospitality with her and her family. Many of her aunts and uncles lamented the fall of a city that they used to love, but of which they are now afraid. Finally having a chance to spend some more intimate time with Caraqueños gave me the feeling that despite its cold, hard, concrete exterior, Caracas still has a warm heart at its core. Unfortunately, it seems to be harder and harder to find.

Thanks for reading. Please leave comments.

1-http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Caracas,
http://www.citypopulation.de/World.html

2- An arrepa is the most typical Venezuelan food staple. It resembles and extra thick corn tortilla. Arreperias are restaurants that served arrepas, cut down the center and stuffed with a variety of toppings of your choosing.

3- the following source is decidedly Chavista and therefor I am using it as a conservative or low estimate. http://axisoflogic.com/artman/publish/printer_26069.shtml

4- A Caraqueño is a resident of Caracas