Venezuela

When I was a young, I had a recurring nightmare. I used to think that burglars were going to break into our house and steal things while I was still there. This home invasion nightmare I think was brought on by the fact that there have always been branches outside of the window that tap on the glass in the breeze. To a nine year old in the middle of the night, that sounds less like branches and more like someone scrabbling at the screen, trying to get in. So, when two thieves burst into my hotel room at 3:00 am two weeks ago, it seemed at first to just be a recurrence of my previous nightmare.

Here is what happened:

Apparently, around 3:00am, there was a knock at our door. I didn´t even hear it but it woke up my mom. Sleepy and disoriented, she thought we overslept our alarm and it was one of the hotel people coming to tell us that it was time to go (I was scheduled to go diving the next day). She opened the door and two ¨marauders¨ (their words) burst in on us. They were carrying knives. One of them pinned my mom down and the other one came over and tried to pin me down. Clearly, having lived in New York for the last six years, I kicked him hard in the stomach and screamed for all I was worth. He had to put down his knife to stop me from struggling and he put his hands over my mouth. So I bit him, hard enough to draw blood. At that point he slapped me and started yelling at me in Spanish and my fight or flight reflexes slowed down and began to think a little bit more clearly about all the things that guy could do to me. One of them took all of my mom´s local money, but she took a chance when their backs were turned to hide that last of her american cash under her pillow. They took all of my money (the ONLY time I´ve ever travelled with a lot of cash on me because the exchange rate is so much better on the black market in South America) and, more importantly ...

... they took my camera. And my lensbaby. They didn´t find my wide angle lens or my ipod or my cell phone, all of which I hid under the bed. My camera was in my bag though, ready to be taken out on the boat with me diving. Perhaps it was karma catching up to me - I have traveled by myself in many less than savory places and never had a single thing stolen or a single problem. This is the first time - and I hope the LAST time something like this ever happens to me.

I gave a description of my assailant to the police (thank you photographic memory) so I guess there is a slight chance my propery will be recovered, but it is unlikely. The owner of the hotel apologized about a million times and only charged us for half of our stay at the hotel.

After that, we moved to Isla de Margarita. Isla de Margarita was quite nice. We stayed at a particularly schmancy resort, one of these all-inclusive numbers. Here is the thing about all inclusive resorts: they are full of pod people. All identical families having a sanitized, identical good time. Seriously, what is the point of an all inclusive resort in Venezuela? Everyone speaks English, the food is "international" and they play American elevator music on the loudspeakers during meal time. You might as well just go to Miami and have exactly the same experience at half of the plane ticket. There is nightly "entertainment" which two nights ago consisted of a truly horrific "international dance show". Bad dancer did a tangos and salsas across the stage to equally bad music and announcing. It was like a train wreck and I couldn´t look away.

We did get out of the soft confines of the resort several times. We shopped and bought duty free liquor in Porlamar, saw an old spanish fort in Pampatar, took a driving tour of the Macanao peninsula, went to the museo del mar, and took a boat tour through the mangrove swamps. I finally got a chance to go diving (but I also got an ear infection from my snorkeling trip off the coast of Playa Santa Fe where we originally stayed). So all in all, an eventful vacation. At least I am tan now.


Playa el Agua, Isla de Margarita
Taken with a disposable camera.