My Venezuela

I was born in Caracas, Venezuela on September 21st, 1974.  My parents had moved there from Puerto Rico, where they had spent 7 years, to Venezuela to pursue new business ventures. My father was an entrepreneur and my mother was his backbone; the woman behind the man.

They came to form a new company, MagnuVen Chemicals, that would later transform into MagnuVen Holdings. Since my father’s time in Zoilax, a Puerto-Rican company in where he had worked as General Manager, he had had a long interest in chemistry. It was one of his loves. Venezuela’s industrial sector was a perfect playground for building a business that catered to industrial chemicals. Through his chemistry, my father parlayed his business into oil refinement and all that that entails. Venezuela sits on top of the one world’s most abundant oil reserves on the planet.  It is the only one of its kind in the Western world.

This combination couldn’t be more prolific and profitable for someone with the smarts and charisma that my father had, and for someone who’s husband made the deals and shook the hands while she ran the entire office. My mother not only created all the contracts, she kept the books, wrote the checks, hired and managed sub-contractors, all the while raising her children. The two were in fact a seamless marriage of two business giants into a perfect partnership.

Caracas, the country’s capital city, was a thriving city full of culture and diversity. From parks to lush mountains to the “barrios”, everything about Caracas was beautiful. It was a wonderful place to live, at that time anyway. Today Venezuela isn’t as beautiful nor as wonderful a place to live with a socialist dictatorship that has bled the population and natural resources dry without little to no recovery. But that’s not the Venezuela I remember as a child.

The Barrios are a collection of brick and tin roof housing structure that contrast the city in a powerful yet iconic manner. See, the Barrios are what in America we would call the “slums” or the “projects”. It is what houses our city’s poor. Life in the barrios of Caracas, Venezuela, is a struggle for most and living conditions are often precarious. The main disadvantage of living in the barrios is that it presents very cramped living conditions with only the basic facilities available. People living in these areas lack running water, proper sanitation and face high risks of crime. Lack of schooling and a full educational offering are also problems. Garbage disposal is inappropriate presenting their own health risks. People built their own poor structure houses from provided government grants. For many this life is all they have ever known. I remember my parents making sure that I knew what these houses on the hills were about, driving into them and seeing the people and their everyday struggles.  It taught me what I did not want for my own life. What has always stayed with me the juxtaposition of where we were living, which was Prados del Este (the Beverly Hills of Caracas in a sense) to the Barrios; shown below.

The Barrios of Caracas, Venezuela

 

The parks in Caracas were also a magnet of diversity and fun. I remember the Teleferico (which is a form of aerial lift on cable cars) as a place of both fear and awe for me.  I think I have been afraid of heights most of my life, even as a young child. Opened in April 19, 1952 until the end of the 70’s, it was the gateway between 4 stations. The tram ride between downtown Caracas and Parque Nacional El Ávila also took passengers down to the Hotel Humboldt. The second section went from Ávila over the town of Galipan and finished in El Cojo station in Macuto. The final station in the Estado Vargas fell into disuse and has yet to be brought back online. But once certainly can admire the views, shown below.

Teleferico de Caracas to Avila Mountains

 

The area that my parents settled in was known as Prados del Este. At birth, my family and I lived in what is known as a “Quinta”. A quinta was any house with more than five sleeping quarters (bedrooms); ours had seven two of which were the live-in maids’ quarters that we had. In Venezuela, at that time, having maids and nannies that lived with you was considered very normal. This is an example of a similar house to what I remember… with the gated brick driveway and beautiful courtyard. It had a lush backyard and a back porch that I remember had a small shed that I used to play in. Again this is similar but not exactly the same; just images that remind me of my young life.

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We moved from the quinta I remember into a tall apartment building in Baruta, which is still considered part of the Prados, but its own municipality. It was closer to the city and I think that favored my father’s commute to his businesses. It was a beautiful apartment and I remember having my 6th birthday there. What always stays with me is the balcony that had windows all around it. Windows that stretched from the ceiling almost to the floor. That became my mother’s office, where she conducted all the managerial aspects of the business all while caring for her children. It was a tall building with iron bars on the windows that also had a car port for our cars, I remember my father adding that in. The kitchen was narrow, long and had a small room at the end that housed our laundry room. My bedroom had two twin beds in it, and the other bed was where my Nana (my father’s mother for whom I bear my name) slept when she stayed with us. The following images remind me of that apartment, but again are not the exact apartment.

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In all my experience in Venezuela has had a huge impact in my life, however brief it was. It was the one time that my family was whole, complete, and in my eyes… happy. And may that was an illusion that was presented to me, and the reality was much darker, but none the less is the foundation that my mother wanted me to have. I respect that of her and will not allow it to be taken away from me.

~ Maria

 

 

Photo Credits: All images are owned by their respective owners and licensed for personal use through iStock/Getty®.

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