I am sittin in my new apartment, or to be more precise in my new roommate´s/flatmate´s room. She brought me strawberry ice cream and has really made me feel welcome. Now let´s reverse a little.
On Sunday evening I took the bus. But first...During my last weekend in Caracas I had an ephiphany (spelling?) or a revelation. People here claim that they drink a lot, but they don´t. Now I know why. It´s not safe. It´s so logical. If you have to take a taxi, a bus, metro, whatever, walk, home in a city like Caracas you can´t afford to be drunk, it´s simply dangerous.
Anyways, on Sunday I took the bus to Maracaobo. I was a bit worried cause I like to be able to use the toilet whenever I want to and I was afraid I´s be stuck in a bus for 12 hours. Often, thank god, I stress for nothing, but this time I was right to be worrked about that. The first time when the bus stopped I was watching people, looking what they left in the bus and what they took out with them and decided not to take my backpack and go out. I was not the only one who stayed in the bus but the majority of the passengers went out. So, I was sitting there and I noticed that a guy is standing behind my seat. I turned around and he started walking back. What the hell was he doing there, making sure I was sleeping or what. So, no exiting, no leaving my things, just sitting on the bus thinking that I am not thirsty and I most definately don´t need the bathroom.
I arrived in maracabo at 6.30 in the morning or something, and at 7 José , or Cheche, was there to pick me up. We had an american breakfast and he took me for a tour around town. He kept asking, "now what do you want to do" and I had no idea. I mean I don´t know anything about this place and I´m supposed to make decisions abotu what to do next. Well, he is a really consderate guy and everything.
Work is exactly the same here as in Caracas. I teach two classes, one from 9.30-12.00 and one from 14.30-17.00. The atmosphere is more laid back here than in S. Ignacio but other than that the work is exactly the same.
Maracaibo is very different from Caracas. I miss Caracas, to be honest. Maracaibo is totally flat. Every street looks exactly the same (this will change, for sure, when I get to know the place better) and I am totally lost. My first impression is that guys are more vulgar here. In Caracas it happened a couple fo times that strangers (men) would salute me in the street, but they would just say hola, and that was all. Here it happaned that guys pass and ask "German or English" or make funny noises when I pass. I feel a bit stupid.
Venezuelan femininity, finally I feel like I can actually say something about it. I´ve been observing my students and I am quite amazed. In my class I have a girl who is 4 years old and her mother makes her wear heels. And the heels are so high that I myslef would not be able to walk in them, but this 4 year old girl is expected to be walking around in those heels. Of course the seven year old girls wear heels as well. Another incident: I was trying to teach my seven year old students the words lunch and breakfast. So I asked every day what they had for breakfast. One day the girl, Gabriela (the mean but cute one) said, she did not have breakfast. I asked why, and she said that she is too fat, that she is on a diet. And this girl is not fat, not even chubby.
Now I have to get going. The girl whose room I´m writing in has to get up at 5 in the morngin so I better let her get her sleep.
On Sunday evening I took the bus. But first...During my last weekend in Caracas I had an ephiphany (spelling?) or a revelation. People here claim that they drink a lot, but they don´t. Now I know why. It´s not safe. It´s so logical. If you have to take a taxi, a bus, metro, whatever, walk, home in a city like Caracas you can´t afford to be drunk, it´s simply dangerous.
Anyways, on Sunday I took the bus to Maracaobo. I was a bit worried cause I like to be able to use the toilet whenever I want to and I was afraid I´s be stuck in a bus for 12 hours. Often, thank god, I stress for nothing, but this time I was right to be worrked about that. The first time when the bus stopped I was watching people, looking what they left in the bus and what they took out with them and decided not to take my backpack and go out. I was not the only one who stayed in the bus but the majority of the passengers went out. So, I was sitting there and I noticed that a guy is standing behind my seat. I turned around and he started walking back. What the hell was he doing there, making sure I was sleeping or what. So, no exiting, no leaving my things, just sitting on the bus thinking that I am not thirsty and I most definately don´t need the bathroom.
I arrived in maracabo at 6.30 in the morning or something, and at 7 José , or Cheche, was there to pick me up. We had an american breakfast and he took me for a tour around town. He kept asking, "now what do you want to do" and I had no idea. I mean I don´t know anything about this place and I´m supposed to make decisions abotu what to do next. Well, he is a really consderate guy and everything.
Work is exactly the same here as in Caracas. I teach two classes, one from 9.30-12.00 and one from 14.30-17.00. The atmosphere is more laid back here than in S. Ignacio but other than that the work is exactly the same.
Maracaibo is very different from Caracas. I miss Caracas, to be honest. Maracaibo is totally flat. Every street looks exactly the same (this will change, for sure, when I get to know the place better) and I am totally lost. My first impression is that guys are more vulgar here. In Caracas it happened a couple fo times that strangers (men) would salute me in the street, but they would just say hola, and that was all. Here it happaned that guys pass and ask "German or English" or make funny noises when I pass. I feel a bit stupid.
Venezuelan femininity, finally I feel like I can actually say something about it. I´ve been observing my students and I am quite amazed. In my class I have a girl who is 4 years old and her mother makes her wear heels. And the heels are so high that I myslef would not be able to walk in them, but this 4 year old girl is expected to be walking around in those heels. Of course the seven year old girls wear heels as well. Another incident: I was trying to teach my seven year old students the words lunch and breakfast. So I asked every day what they had for breakfast. One day the girl, Gabriela (the mean but cute one) said, she did not have breakfast. I asked why, and she said that she is too fat, that she is on a diet. And this girl is not fat, not even chubby.
Now I have to get going. The girl whose room I´m writing in has to get up at 5 in the morngin so I better let her get her sleep.
posted by Larubia at 6:37 PM
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