... Continued... Start with the previous post if you don't know what I am talking about.
We woke up the next morning, with shivering blue lips, in the Gran Sabana (Great Savannah). This part of the country is somewhat legendary around the country. It seems like everyone in Valera has something to say about it, though hardly anyone has actually visited it. People told me stories about insects the size of birds, overgrown toads that eat rats and cabybaras, and mosquitoes the length of your arm that swarm the entire area. They also believe it is the most beautiful and oldest place in the world. While I feel like I can say fairly safely that few Venezuelans have an accurate impression of the Gran Sabana, I definitely think that all the hype it attracts is deserved. It is really a very stunning place. There are enormous, ancient Tepuis (tabletop mountains) that tower above the clouds in every direction. These tepuis are remnants of the Guyana Shield, some of the oldest rock formations in the world (they were formed during the time when the supercontinent Gondwana existed). To give some perspective, these rocks are so old that although they once formed the seabed (you can still see the ripples in the rocks), there are no fossils in them because they were formed BEFORE any organisms that would leave fossils had evolved. Now that’s old.
In the Gran Sabana, we arrived to a little touristy city called Santa Elena de Uraien. We got our tour for the next day figured out— a 7 day backpacking trek up and down Roraima (see photo), one of the most spectacular tepuis. While we thought this might take all day, we ended up having everything figured out by about 9 AM. The tour guide mentioned that he was going across the border into Brazil for the day, and did we want to come with?? So we said, “duh!” and hopped in the taxi with him. It was strange how different everything was so suddenly. One minute you understand the language, recognize the food, are familiar with fashion and customs, and the next moment everything is new and foreign. Very strange. We ate a lot of meat, walked around a bit, and bought a few souvenirs, including some really ridiculous cowboy hats for our trek up the big hill. We excitedly spent the night in Santa Elena cooking a spaghetti dinner, playing cards and drinking beer on the second floor patio in the fresh night breeze.
The next morning we woke up early and went to meet the other hikers: a Dutch girl we had shared a room with the night before, a very friendly Polish girl, and two very personable Australian scientists. After a long, dizzying car ride and a quick lunch we were off on our big trip.
The hike was nothing short of spectacular. It was by far the longest, most ambitious backpacking trip that I have been on to date, and while it was hard and I came off the mountain shivering with blisters, soaking wet clothes, and smelly boots, I enjoyed almost every minute of the trek. The biologist in me was way overstimulated by the unbelievable ecosystem that exists on top of the mountain—the numerous endemic plants and animals, the carnivorous plants everywhere, brilliantly colored flowers growing in an unbelievably harsh environment, the strange animals that have evolved really bizarre characteristics (my personal favorite—the frogs that cannot jump. They walk/waddle instead of jumping. Super hilarious)… it was all like a dream.
We walked for two days to the base of the mountain, one day up, one day across, one day around and back (like 30 km + with packs!!), and for two days to come back. The top of the tepui was like a moonscape, with strange rock formations in every direction. I use the words walking or hiking, but really what we were doing was a lot of jumping from rock to rock, climbing up and down cool rock formations, and fording rivers in socks. We followed faint paths on the rocks, stones worn to a lighter color from all the people passing back and forth down the trails. It made it clear that so much of this enormous structure was left untouched, because if you left the trail you would surely get lost. We started to recognize the other hikers on the mountain, even at a distance, the French crew, the Brazilian women, the Germans…
During the day we explored some of the magnificent sites on top of the mountain—Crystal Valley, an unbelievable strip of perfect quartz crystals, El Foso, a huge cavern eroded by converging water sources, where you can swim and stand under a freezing waterfall, we went to the triple point, where Venezuela, Guyana and Brazilian territories converge in a single point, to Lake Gladys and to the site of a helicopter crash where you see only the remains of the aircraft. At night, we stayed in caves and ate dinner and played cards in good company, talking about the differences in politics, health care and economics between our countries.
Most of the time on top of Roraima it was really misty and wet. The clouds would pass by, above and below and on every side of you, drenching you although it never really rained. Leaving things out to dry often left them wetter than they started. When the sun came out it shined brilliantly, creating full rainbows that you could follow all the way to the ground on both sides. From the cliff at the edge of Roraima, when the sun shone momentarily through the clouds you could see forever, giving you butterflies and making you feel faint only for a moment, until it all disappeared behind the clouds again.
At the end of our trek, they greeted us with lunch, watermelon, coke, and beer. We hopped back in the car for our trip back to the city, exhausted and feeling much more comfortable with each other than the previous time that we were all in a car together. For me, the drive was terrifying. The driver drove like an absolute maniac down these sketchy dirt roads, with cars approaching in an equally crazy manner in the other direction. It was clear how nervous we all were, when suddenly as we drove head on past another vehicle the glass on the side window of our car shattered violently. The driver stopped the car immediately, started swearing and sweeping glass out of the car. We all waited silently, unsure of what to say. Turns out the cars were passing each other so closely that their side view mirrors collided and swung around to smash the window in an impressive explosion. As many of you know, moving vehicles of any sort are my biggest fear in life right now… this did not help. The driver continued on, driving just as crazily until, on behalf of all of the hikers in the car, I said in my politest Spanish, “Excuse me sir, we are all very, very uncomfortable back here, do you think you could slow down just a little bit???” It worked. The power of manners.
Part 3 will be on its way soon enough. I must go eat lunch! If you have facebook I posted a bunh of picture from the trip. If not, I will put a link up here soon so that you can all see them.
OH YEAH!! And Merry Christmas! I almost forgot given the lack of anything I associate with Christmas here… Except I did see a man dressed like Santa driving like a psycho down the street today in a car with only one door and no glass in the windows. A little reminder. Love you all and I really wish I could be there to celebrate with you!
24 December 2009
22 December 2009
La Gran Aventura, Part 1
I find the task of trying to share the details of the last several weeks with everyone somewhat overwhelming, and perhaps that’s why I haven’t done it yet. So let me just start by saying that trip I just came back from was absolutely amazing and I think that it merits more than a single blog post, but I’ll try to keep it a reasonable reading length.
So on my last day of work about 3 weeks ago, I told my classes that we were going to have parties with snacks, games, movies, etc. to celebrate. The previous day, I had told everyone that an amigo of mine was coming and we were about to embark on a grand adventure, to which they all just responded, “ooooooh profe es su novio!!!!! (your boyfriend).” I said no, that in the US it is somewhat normal to have friends of the opposite gender, and to hang out with them platonically. So when Zach arrived about a half hour before the classes started, I decided that the best thing to do would be to just bring him, and entertain the classes by letting everyone ask him whatever they wanted, given that they were already somewhat fascinated by him.
Well it turns out that Venezuelans are unbelievably gullible. When the students arrived, they had apparently forgotten about the “boyfriend” and started asking me who he was, so naturally, the answer was, “my BROTHER, of course!” Now I was shocked that they believed me for several reasons, 1) I had TOLD them the day before who he was, 2) they have seen multiple pictures of my brother and he clearly was not the same person, 3) Zach told them that he LIVES in Merida, and 4) did they really think I wouldn’t say anything beforehand if my brother was coming? Anyways, through this lie I think we both created and averted a great deal of confused chaos regarding the identity of this strange American boy, but it’s kind of sweet that they all now think that they know my brother (sorry Luke, I really wish you were here).
So 4 hours of moderately controlled chaos later, I was released from my duties at the University for 6 weeks! Zach and I got down to business organizing things for our pending departure. Several simple tasks: transfer some money, buy some bus tickets, pack, and make sure we informed the right people about where we would be when. Easy, right? Mas o menos.
Purchasing tickets for traveling here is really ridiculous for two reasons. First, people wait until the absolute last second to buy tickets, and then everyone makes a frantic, mad dash to get tickets ALL AT THE SAME TIME. This results in massive, totally unnecessary lines. Second, when you say I want a ticket to such place from such place, the person selling the tickets might say, “Ok, here’s a ticket for 10 o’clock,” and not until later do you realize that there were actually 4 or 5 different choices of tickets for different times which they most certainly never mentioned.
So we went to the bus terminal the day before our trip to buy bus tickets to Caracas, waited in line an hour or so (in the dark because the electricity went out), only to discover that we could not buy tickets until the next morning. So in the morning, Zach and I split up, I braved the line in the bank (where some crazy man sang happy birthday to the bank tellers for at least 1 hour while I was waiting) while Zach braved the one in the bus terminal. When he returned, he told me that actually we were not able to buy tickets until the bus actually arrived later that afternoon. So we went to my house to pack, to the university to put up grades, etc. etc., and returned a few hours before the bus was to leave only to discover that we were actually not allowed to buy tickets at all because there was no bus. So, royally fed up, we found some other tickets on another bus line (which were of course never mentioned by the lady we had talked to 3 times previously). Tickets in hand, we went home to get everything together and embark on our journey. To our grand surprise, when we arrived back at the terminal with our bags packed, right alongside our bus was the bus that we had planned to take. The nonexistent bus. Feeling puzzled and indifferent towards the sight, we got on the new bus and continued on our way.
The buses here are really pretty awesome. They are called “Buscamas,” Bus meaning bus and cama meaning bed. So, though these buses tend to be anywhere from about 10-14 C (aka FREEZING), they are super comfortable, with footrests and seats that recline almost horizontally. Very posh. I was somewhat puzzled when I saw people entering the bus with thick blankets and wool sweaters, beanies, scarves, maybe some mittens… but when the temperature gauge read -12 C on the last bus we were on, I felt much more envious than confused towards the people bundled up in their winter gear (this temperature reading is not a lie, though I am fairly certain that the thermometer was poorly calibrated). On the buscamas, they also tend to play either very vulgar or violent movies for your enjoyment until maybe 1 AM and then again starting at about 5 or 6 AM, but in general, the trips are quite pleasant. So we rode the night away, the first bus of many to come, and arrived in Caracas at around 6 AM.
Caracas is one of those places that is just so notoriously dangerous that I have made a point to just avoid it altogether when at all possible (note: creepy recent NYT article about grave robbers in Caracas). On our short taxi drive from the bus terminal we saw a body under a tarp, someone apparently killed in a recent car accident. The danger and political turmoil noted, I also think that it is a very dynamic, interesting city with a LOT of culture and complicated politics. In Caracas, we were fortunate to receive wonderful hospitality from a couple that works for the embassy. We rode the Teleferico, a really awesome cable car that takes you to the top of the tallest nearby mountain. At the top of the mountain you find many strange things, like people dressed as fairies, strange candies, LOTS of fruit and whipped cream, chocolate, and most importantly some stunning views of the city.
Caracas is a hugely populated city crammed into a single mountain valley, the city “planning” is absolutely horrendous, and from way up high you can just see the chaos manifested in the architecture. Buildings apparently stacked one on top of the other on top of taller buildings next to skyscrapers behind abandoned warehouses in front of mud shacks stacked 6 tall surrounded by ghettos of tin roofs. Complete disorder and poorly constructed buildings. The city is really quite a sight, the poverty is inescapably apparent, as is the fear people feel towards authorities there. On our way home, as Zach and I sat in a little restaurant on the side of the street eating bland bowls of chicken soup, every so often, someone would shout something about the police and everyone would go running behind cars, looking for shelter, or at least back up against some sort of building. A moment later, 5 or 6 motorcycles with cops on them would come zooming through the neighborhood, and once they passed everything would return to normal. Very different from the world that I am used to.
Anyways, we had a lovely night of good company, Lebanese food, and belly dancing in Caracas, and our friends very graciously took us to the airport the next morning to send us off on our next leg of the trip. We flew to Puerto Ordaz, the city where the two biggest rivers in Venezuela come together, the Orinoco River and the Caroni River. There were some spectacular waterfalls, unbelievable parks, and we had our first sighting of an animal that we had never seen before. We are still not entirely sure what it is, but definitely some sort of huge rodent capybara like thing. See for yourself…
After spending the day lounging in parks, we established with our taxi driver as a meeting place the largest centro commercial (read: mall) that I have seen to date in Venezuela. The first reason why this was a mistake: there were SO MANY PEOPLE! How does one go about finding a solitary taxi driver? The second reason: Malls are mostly just overwhelming for me, and Latin American malls even worse…. Anyways, we entertained ourselves by watching the signs that rolled independently down the hallways and people watching. After hours of entertaining ourselves, tracking down missing taxi drivers, and running around the city, we arrived at our next Buscama, where we kicked back, relaxed, and enjoyed the ride.
… Part 2, plus pictures, to come… I post this now only to satisfy my most demanding readers. Watch for the rest. I’ll try to put it up asap.
So on my last day of work about 3 weeks ago, I told my classes that we were going to have parties with snacks, games, movies, etc. to celebrate. The previous day, I had told everyone that an amigo of mine was coming and we were about to embark on a grand adventure, to which they all just responded, “ooooooh profe es su novio!!!!! (your boyfriend).” I said no, that in the US it is somewhat normal to have friends of the opposite gender, and to hang out with them platonically. So when Zach arrived about a half hour before the classes started, I decided that the best thing to do would be to just bring him, and entertain the classes by letting everyone ask him whatever they wanted, given that they were already somewhat fascinated by him.
Well it turns out that Venezuelans are unbelievably gullible. When the students arrived, they had apparently forgotten about the “boyfriend” and started asking me who he was, so naturally, the answer was, “my BROTHER, of course!” Now I was shocked that they believed me for several reasons, 1) I had TOLD them the day before who he was, 2) they have seen multiple pictures of my brother and he clearly was not the same person, 3) Zach told them that he LIVES in Merida, and 4) did they really think I wouldn’t say anything beforehand if my brother was coming? Anyways, through this lie I think we both created and averted a great deal of confused chaos regarding the identity of this strange American boy, but it’s kind of sweet that they all now think that they know my brother (sorry Luke, I really wish you were here).
So 4 hours of moderately controlled chaos later, I was released from my duties at the University for 6 weeks! Zach and I got down to business organizing things for our pending departure. Several simple tasks: transfer some money, buy some bus tickets, pack, and make sure we informed the right people about where we would be when. Easy, right? Mas o menos.
Purchasing tickets for traveling here is really ridiculous for two reasons. First, people wait until the absolute last second to buy tickets, and then everyone makes a frantic, mad dash to get tickets ALL AT THE SAME TIME. This results in massive, totally unnecessary lines. Second, when you say I want a ticket to such place from such place, the person selling the tickets might say, “Ok, here’s a ticket for 10 o’clock,” and not until later do you realize that there were actually 4 or 5 different choices of tickets for different times which they most certainly never mentioned.
So we went to the bus terminal the day before our trip to buy bus tickets to Caracas, waited in line an hour or so (in the dark because the electricity went out), only to discover that we could not buy tickets until the next morning. So in the morning, Zach and I split up, I braved the line in the bank (where some crazy man sang happy birthday to the bank tellers for at least 1 hour while I was waiting) while Zach braved the one in the bus terminal. When he returned, he told me that actually we were not able to buy tickets until the bus actually arrived later that afternoon. So we went to my house to pack, to the university to put up grades, etc. etc., and returned a few hours before the bus was to leave only to discover that we were actually not allowed to buy tickets at all because there was no bus. So, royally fed up, we found some other tickets on another bus line (which were of course never mentioned by the lady we had talked to 3 times previously). Tickets in hand, we went home to get everything together and embark on our journey. To our grand surprise, when we arrived back at the terminal with our bags packed, right alongside our bus was the bus that we had planned to take. The nonexistent bus. Feeling puzzled and indifferent towards the sight, we got on the new bus and continued on our way.
The buses here are really pretty awesome. They are called “Buscamas,” Bus meaning bus and cama meaning bed. So, though these buses tend to be anywhere from about 10-14 C (aka FREEZING), they are super comfortable, with footrests and seats that recline almost horizontally. Very posh. I was somewhat puzzled when I saw people entering the bus with thick blankets and wool sweaters, beanies, scarves, maybe some mittens… but when the temperature gauge read -12 C on the last bus we were on, I felt much more envious than confused towards the people bundled up in their winter gear (this temperature reading is not a lie, though I am fairly certain that the thermometer was poorly calibrated). On the buscamas, they also tend to play either very vulgar or violent movies for your enjoyment until maybe 1 AM and then again starting at about 5 or 6 AM, but in general, the trips are quite pleasant. So we rode the night away, the first bus of many to come, and arrived in Caracas at around 6 AM.
Caracas is one of those places that is just so notoriously dangerous that I have made a point to just avoid it altogether when at all possible (note: creepy recent NYT article about grave robbers in Caracas). On our short taxi drive from the bus terminal we saw a body under a tarp, someone apparently killed in a recent car accident. The danger and political turmoil noted, I also think that it is a very dynamic, interesting city with a LOT of culture and complicated politics. In Caracas, we were fortunate to receive wonderful hospitality from a couple that works for the embassy. We rode the Teleferico, a really awesome cable car that takes you to the top of the tallest nearby mountain. At the top of the mountain you find many strange things, like people dressed as fairies, strange candies, LOTS of fruit and whipped cream, chocolate, and most importantly some stunning views of the city.
Caracas is a hugely populated city crammed into a single mountain valley, the city “planning” is absolutely horrendous, and from way up high you can just see the chaos manifested in the architecture. Buildings apparently stacked one on top of the other on top of taller buildings next to skyscrapers behind abandoned warehouses in front of mud shacks stacked 6 tall surrounded by ghettos of tin roofs. Complete disorder and poorly constructed buildings. The city is really quite a sight, the poverty is inescapably apparent, as is the fear people feel towards authorities there. On our way home, as Zach and I sat in a little restaurant on the side of the street eating bland bowls of chicken soup, every so often, someone would shout something about the police and everyone would go running behind cars, looking for shelter, or at least back up against some sort of building. A moment later, 5 or 6 motorcycles with cops on them would come zooming through the neighborhood, and once they passed everything would return to normal. Very different from the world that I am used to.
Anyways, we had a lovely night of good company, Lebanese food, and belly dancing in Caracas, and our friends very graciously took us to the airport the next morning to send us off on our next leg of the trip. We flew to Puerto Ordaz, the city where the two biggest rivers in Venezuela come together, the Orinoco River and the Caroni River. There were some spectacular waterfalls, unbelievable parks, and we had our first sighting of an animal that we had never seen before. We are still not entirely sure what it is, but definitely some sort of huge rodent capybara like thing. See for yourself…
After spending the day lounging in parks, we established with our taxi driver as a meeting place the largest centro commercial (read: mall) that I have seen to date in Venezuela. The first reason why this was a mistake: there were SO MANY PEOPLE! How does one go about finding a solitary taxi driver? The second reason: Malls are mostly just overwhelming for me, and Latin American malls even worse…. Anyways, we entertained ourselves by watching the signs that rolled independently down the hallways and people watching. After hours of entertaining ourselves, tracking down missing taxi drivers, and running around the city, we arrived at our next Buscama, where we kicked back, relaxed, and enjoyed the ride.
… Part 2, plus pictures, to come… I post this now only to satisfy my most demanding readers. Watch for the rest. I’ll try to put it up asap.
15 December 2009
We made it!
Many days, bus rides, bug bites, beautiful views, and sore muscles later, I am thrilled to say that we made it through Caracas, through Puerto Ordaz, Santa Elena, and to the top and back to the bottom of Roraima. The group we were with was fantastic- two Australians, a Dutch girl and a Polish girl, along with several guides and porters. It was absolutely spectacular, and you will soon be getting many stories and pìctures.
We are now in Ciudad Bolivar, where we will be catching a five person plane to Angel Falls tomorrow. In the meantime, there are 10 meter tall statues of Simon Bolivar, the Orinoco River, and botanical gardens that must be explored in this city before our pending departure.
I just have a moment on the internet right now, but I just thought I would let you all know that we are safe, having a fabulous time, and I wish I could just stick you all in my giant backpack and hike you to the top of the falls.
Hasta luego, espero que sepan que los extraño mucho. Cuidense y escribire mas tarde.
We are now in Ciudad Bolivar, where we will be catching a five person plane to Angel Falls tomorrow. In the meantime, there are 10 meter tall statues of Simon Bolivar, the Orinoco River, and botanical gardens that must be explored in this city before our pending departure.
I just have a moment on the internet right now, but I just thought I would let you all know that we are safe, having a fabulous time, and I wish I could just stick you all in my giant backpack and hike you to the top of the falls.
Hasta luego, espero que sepan que los extraño mucho. Cuidense y escribire mas tarde.
04 December 2009
Yes yes yes!
Well, I am thrilled to say that I am finally writing to you all on my very own brand spankin’ new computer sent all the way from the US of A. That’s right, about a month after the tragic theft of my computer and camera, I have both again and I am so excited to share all of my tales with you!!!
First of all, let me update you on the thief drama in Valera. After thinking through the whole facebook friendship with man who stole my electronics from my bedroom, I decided it would be prudent to delete him from my facebook friends. So I did just that about 3 days ago, hoping that I could just put the whole event behind me. With my new computer, new camera and new attitude, I felt that it was a bad idea to have e-friends that I knew were capable of robbing me. So with a click of a button, I thought I was erasing all contact that I might have with the maldito, forgetting about him by intentionally eliminating him from my life. Well, to my EXTREME surprise, within 24 hours, the TIPO noticed that I had unfriended him and he RE-FRIENDED me… UNBELIEVABLE! So not only did he rob me AND friend me on facebook, he re-friended me when I insisted that we were, in fact, NOT FRIENDS, but rather something like enemies. I am considering writing him a long message full of all of the Spanish and English curse words that I can think of. Good idea or bad idea, what do you all think???? I am torn. It just sounds so, so , so… satisfying. And yet, I usually try to avoid offending dangerous drug addicts with knife scars and tattoos all over their bodies… especially ones that have previously robbed me of all my valuables. He did bring me pizzas and fish when he was still courting me though, so I guess it was more like a trade. A camera and a computer for a couple of cheap dinners… I definitely lost. One point for the dangerous drug addict. Zero for me.
The other most recent thief news is fresh chisme (gossip). Another laptop was stolen from the University last night, except this time it was a somewhat impressive, though offensive act of thievery. The thief scaled the side of the university building, managed to remove the second story window, enter the university building and steal a laptop that a faculty member had left there overnight. Pretty ballsy, huh? So just to clarify what this means-- we are dealing with creative, agile, and fearless thieves here…
But enough about robbery, let’s talk about something else… I leave tonight for a FABULOUS two week long trip! Zach (from Merida) arrived yesterday afternoon in Valera, and tonight marks the first leg of our adventure to the other side of the country. We will be visiting such spectacular places as, Angel Falls, Roraima, Caracas, Puerto Ordaz, Ciudad Bolivar, and WHO KNOWS where else!! Actually, we have everything planned out, so we do know exactly where we are going… generally a good idea not to wander aimlessly in dangerous countries. Here´s our plan, follow us on a map!:
December 4th: Leave Valera. Night bus to Caracas
December 5th: Arrive in Caracas. Stay with a very gracious Embassy employee. Prepare for Sunday morning flight.
December 6th: Fly from Caracas to Puerto Ordaz at 10 am. Visit crazy waterfalls in Puerto Ordaz. Take night bus to Santa Elena de Uairen.
December 7th: Rest in Santa Elena de Uairen
December 8th-14th: 7 day long Roraima TREK with Kamadac Tours (It sounds pretty hard core)
December 14th: Night bus to Ciudad Bolivar OR Fly to Canaima (Details pending)
December 15th or 16th - December 18th or 19th: Boat tour of Angel Falls, sleep in bush camp right in front of the world´s tallest waterfall
December 19th: Fly from Ciudad Bolivar to Caracas.
Back to Valera??? I´ll probably take a bus by myself back from Caracas, since Zach is headed back to the USA to visit his family for Christmas!
So that´s the latest. I won´t be around for about two weeks, but if there is an internet café I will try to sneak in a blog post. Love you all and happy trails!
First of all, let me update you on the thief drama in Valera. After thinking through the whole facebook friendship with man who stole my electronics from my bedroom, I decided it would be prudent to delete him from my facebook friends. So I did just that about 3 days ago, hoping that I could just put the whole event behind me. With my new computer, new camera and new attitude, I felt that it was a bad idea to have e-friends that I knew were capable of robbing me. So with a click of a button, I thought I was erasing all contact that I might have with the maldito, forgetting about him by intentionally eliminating him from my life. Well, to my EXTREME surprise, within 24 hours, the TIPO noticed that I had unfriended him and he RE-FRIENDED me… UNBELIEVABLE! So not only did he rob me AND friend me on facebook, he re-friended me when I insisted that we were, in fact, NOT FRIENDS, but rather something like enemies. I am considering writing him a long message full of all of the Spanish and English curse words that I can think of. Good idea or bad idea, what do you all think???? I am torn. It just sounds so, so , so… satisfying. And yet, I usually try to avoid offending dangerous drug addicts with knife scars and tattoos all over their bodies… especially ones that have previously robbed me of all my valuables. He did bring me pizzas and fish when he was still courting me though, so I guess it was more like a trade. A camera and a computer for a couple of cheap dinners… I definitely lost. One point for the dangerous drug addict. Zero for me.
The other most recent thief news is fresh chisme (gossip). Another laptop was stolen from the University last night, except this time it was a somewhat impressive, though offensive act of thievery. The thief scaled the side of the university building, managed to remove the second story window, enter the university building and steal a laptop that a faculty member had left there overnight. Pretty ballsy, huh? So just to clarify what this means-- we are dealing with creative, agile, and fearless thieves here…
But enough about robbery, let’s talk about something else… I leave tonight for a FABULOUS two week long trip! Zach (from Merida) arrived yesterday afternoon in Valera, and tonight marks the first leg of our adventure to the other side of the country. We will be visiting such spectacular places as, Angel Falls, Roraima, Caracas, Puerto Ordaz, Ciudad Bolivar, and WHO KNOWS where else!! Actually, we have everything planned out, so we do know exactly where we are going… generally a good idea not to wander aimlessly in dangerous countries. Here´s our plan, follow us on a map!:
December 4th: Leave Valera. Night bus to Caracas
December 5th: Arrive in Caracas. Stay with a very gracious Embassy employee. Prepare for Sunday morning flight.
December 6th: Fly from Caracas to Puerto Ordaz at 10 am. Visit crazy waterfalls in Puerto Ordaz. Take night bus to Santa Elena de Uairen.
December 7th: Rest in Santa Elena de Uairen
December 8th-14th: 7 day long Roraima TREK with Kamadac Tours (It sounds pretty hard core)
December 14th: Night bus to Ciudad Bolivar OR Fly to Canaima (Details pending)
December 15th or 16th - December 18th or 19th: Boat tour of Angel Falls, sleep in bush camp right in front of the world´s tallest waterfall
December 19th: Fly from Ciudad Bolivar to Caracas.
Back to Valera??? I´ll probably take a bus by myself back from Caracas, since Zach is headed back to the USA to visit his family for Christmas!
So that´s the latest. I won´t be around for about two weeks, but if there is an internet café I will try to sneak in a blog post. Love you all and happy trails!
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