Blogs :: Holding the Tongue

Holding the Tongue

As we rode the bus up and out of the city on Wednesday, the oranges and browns of the bricks and mortars disappeared, replaced by the greens and yellows of the countryside. I recognized the road almost immediately as the one I bussed in on nearly 2 months ago and my mind wandered to that eventful series of days...

Having just flown in on a plane that morning from the tourist laden Salto Angel falls and nearly broke with just enough money to get myself out of Venezuela, I was in no mood to be ripped off, talk to strangers, or anything the like. Almost as soon as I had purchased my bus ticket and sat down to wait the 90 minutes until my departure, a lady in nearly perfect English approaches me asking to switch tickets with her...

Having read all about scams like these, I somewhat declined at first. She explained the story of how her friend had requested her to buy his ticket as he was running late only to finish the purchase when he called back to have her buy a second for the girlfriend. In between this time period, I had purchased mine and therefore the seat adjoining the girlfriend. Convinced and now wanting to help, I agreed to switch seats once on the bus, but kept my original ticket, it had my name on it anyway. Deal closed.

What happened next was a 45 minute conversation that started out about Hugo Chavez. In the past 2 weeks I have tried vehemently to avoid any talk about the president of Venezuela, he not being our biggest fan, but I have not been successful. The first time I was drunk in a bar with Thomas. The only others in the joint were the bartender/owner and his friend. Both talked so much shit about Chavez, I thought I was in a different country. During the conversation a police or military official came into the bar, but not to join us or arrest us, simply to accept his bribe for the night.

The second time was overhearing a Venezuelan-born tour guide in Canaima go on and on and on about the failed policies of the Chavistas. I nearly wanted to enter into the conversation myself, but opted for my bed as it was my first real one in a few days. Now two days later I was again having a talk with an Anti-Chavez activist.

Funny, I thought this topic would be easier to avoid and being an American I was perfectly fine with keeping my thoughts inside my head for the safety of my being. In most of these conversations I stayed relatively quiet, listening more than speaking, out of curiosity. I was surprised to hear such open negative thoughts about the current administration. Being foreign, you wonder often about the openness of politics in foreign countries, most especially politically controversial ones. It seemed almost as if these few people were telling me about their plights because I was American. The Europeans, the Colombians, even the fellow Venezuealans were not listening, fewer were speaking.

The topic progressed beyond politics into economy, religion, education, and of course, travel. When it ended I felt I had made another unexpected friend in yet another country the result of a conversation I had purposely avoided. I boarded the bus, switched seats, ended up with a better one than I'd originally had, and fell fast asleep...

To Be Continued...