Edit of Caracas
There’s bright sun shining on your face, there is probably about 40% or more of heavy humidity, and you are stuck in traffic, in a car with no air conditioning. You cant open the windows too much because you know by a fact that if you do, you are most likely going to get robbed or have a gun pointing right on your head waiting for you to get off the car or stay in the car ready for some “secuestro express”, of course that depends on the mood that the guy holding the gun feels like. Then again the gun holders, are never in a good mood, they come from “los barrios” which are the dirtiest, lowest, and most dangerous places of the city, in those Barrios, everyone knows each other, and most of the time they are very united, meaning they know everyone’s sufferings. So when they see where and how they live and then look at all the nice houses and neighborhoods, and the working class, who get most of the money anyways, because the rest, most likely more than half, is unemployed. And those are the people who carry the rage. (I have sympathy for some of them, they have a point, and most of the people in Caracas don’t)
You can’t wait to get home to have lunch. while you are on the journey, you won’t be surprised that a couple of cars jump right in front of you, just to get ahead or to get your attention, for you to get off the car and ask for their information to “sue them” except that’s the last thing that’d you do if you are a real Caraqueño, because if you did get off the car, that’s a free way for them to rob your car, which happens 24/7; either way you rather avoid the situation, because it doesn’t matter how well or good people look, you can always get fucked.
You are thinking that maybe if you had tilted windows it wouldn’t be that bad, and you wouldn’t be a tag for someone to rob you. You are almost home; you can see the gass in the air and the pollution, which makes the humidity and the heat a lot worst. You buy some raspado, and chupi chupi from the “Buhoneros” (people who sell food, drinks and pirated merchandise on the highway when there’s traffic) Finally you get off the highway, which means you can go a little faster because there are less cars towards the area you are heading to. You see the big sign CHACAO. Yes! You are almost there. You gain some speed in the car, forgetting about all the lumps, and bumps, and broken pieces of street that are on the road, which might eventually end up on giving you a flat tire. But today is not the day for the flat tire. You pass right by Plaza Altamira, you can see all the homeless, and all the poor people, They hate you because even though you are not dressed up, or have the nicest car, they know you got more money than they do, just by the fact that you don’t get to join them in the metro (subway) you just try to ignore the situation, because that’s all you can really do at the moment, you know some day some how, you’ll show them you are not as bad as they think you are; or maybe not. You also see in Altamira the people you see daily at your home who clean your room and wash your cloths, funny thing is, you trust them more than you trust your real blood family, because they are who truly raised you, that’s why you know how they eat, and drink, and how they speak, and that they are not as ignorant as others may portray them, just because they have absolutely no chance of education.
Once you pass Don Bosco you know you made it home safe, unless of course one of the guards at the doors is a fake one and has planned to take over some car, but no, not today either for this situation, since you are lucky you live in a really nice neighborhood and you got a cheap car which means, if anyone thinks about stealing from you or taking you, is not going to be you, why? Because there are better cars to rob and people who show off more money than you do, so you know you are safe. Finally you are home, and you made it, with your life, and the car, it’s great, you eat some of the best food, done by the people who raised you, and who you trust more than anyone. You are home.
