Caridad’s Diary

“It’ll hang over your conscience.” This is what Libia was told, over and over, from the moment she stepped foot in the Hospital, in Barquisimeto.

In my previous article, I talked to you about Hato Arriba, a hamlet over three hours away…

In my opinion, the next four months of 2019 will be key in determining Venezuela’s future. While everyone is trying to get by as best they can, the government is selling, giving or handing over the natural resources the country still has in exchange for its debts.

When you’re happy amidst chaos, despair and thousands of unmet needs, it feels weird. But, just because I’ve been happy in spite of the situation I find myself in, I haven’t been able to stop myself being overcome by great sadness in recent days.

Mr. Jose Manuel was 93 years old and in very good health. He lived on a mountain in Venezuela’s Lara State, and he couldn’t help leaving this world when he was visiting one of his children in the city.

Inside the system, wearing red shirts, bureaucrats who came with the “Revolution” or bureaucrats of yesteryear; might be somewhat fond of Maduro or not; they might raise their voices to defend him or just leave the insults for more intimate settings, but they don’t want a change of government at the end of the day.

There was no coup d’etat in Venezuela on April 30th. Twenty-five militarymen with a few tanks, on a highway bridge that passes in front of La Carlota military base (in East Caracas); weren’t going to overthrow any government.

Katia was my best friend in Venezuela. She was at least 20 years younger than me, but she wasn’t one of those “kids” you waste time with if you sit and talk to her… well… sometimes yeah, but it’s nice to feel like you’re “losing time” sometimes too.

A truck appears and we climb in as we can, some hand offered from above, where some twenty sweaty bodies are piled up. “At 300 to Barquisimeto”, the collector vociferates…