Esteban's Venezuelan Adventure

In this entry, I've posted some pictures from the two week long party called the Feria de la Chinita. I write this blog entry in the kitchen of my buddy Efrain's apartment. He lives here with his wife, daughter, and in-laws. I still do not have internet in my apartment after about 6 weeks of promises from the landlord, but hopefully its coming soon. The photo below was taken on the opening night of the Feria. We were posing on Bella Vista avenue, close to CEVAZ, the binational center where I work. The two girls on the far right and left are Venezuelans who work in the culture department at CEVAZ. The tall girl to my right in the picture is Neka from Nigeria and to my left is Catherine from Chicago. There were probably more than a million people on the streets that night to see the spectacle of the lights, the music on about 15 stages, and to drink beer and eat street food.

Here is another photo from the opening night of the Feria. This one was taken in front of an important municipal building - the seat of the mayor. It was beautifully decorated for the holiday season, and we would have entered but the line was too long. I am holding the typical beer of Maracaibo, Regional light. In Venezuela there are only really two marks of beer - Polar and Regional. All of the smaller breweries have been obliterated or absorbed into the big conglomerates because of the repeated market depressions in this part of the world.
This is a photo taken outside of the famous Pa'que Luis near the Iglesia Santa Lucia in downtown Maracaibo. This was the night of the 'amanecer' in which everybody stays awake partying until sunrise the next morning. This is typical Maracaibo - people of mixed ages hanging around on the street drinking beers late into the night. There were several kids hanging around with their parents and grandparents and together we played Bull and Matador.

Here is the inside of Pa'que Luis. The walls are tattoed with signatures of people, both common and famous. The typical music of Maracaibo and the state of Zulia is Gaita, and Pa'que Luis is an iconic Gaita hangout. Many gaiteros have signed the walls here. Interestingly, one of the most important gaiteros of all time, Ricardo Aguirre, the performer of the famed "Grey Zuliana," was the great uncle of Efrain, in whose kitchen I write this entry. Standing next to me is my wonderful friend Bernaliz, who has worked with great determination but little effect to teach me to dance to Latino music.
After the the all-night party of the amanecer, it is tradition to go to a baseball game in which the local team, the Aguilas del Zulia, always gets crushed by the opposing team because they are suffering from hangovers. By some miracle, the Aguilas managed to win on this day and everyone went crazy at the end of the game, throwing beer, water, and empty bottles into the air. This is a photo taken before the game of a famous Venezuelan baseball player taking a loop of the field. Know who it is? Johan Santana, pitcher for the Minessota twins.

Here is a picture of my buddies from Merida. The guy to the far right is Adam, one of the other Fulbright English Teachers. In the middle is Jon and to the left is Nate. These three have been friends since childhood, en español -panas desde su niñez.- They are from Boston and have the ability to fall into a thick New England accent on command. They have been planning ¨The Trip¨ since they were kids and now they are living the dream. Adam, Jon and Nate were phenomenal company for about 5 days of the Feria, though Nate fell asleep while boiling water and melted my teapot into a poisonous, smoking, melted-plastic mess. This photo was taken in La Plaza de la Republica, right in front of a giant obelisk that I always say is a phallic symbol to whoever is around. After taking this photo, we went to Hooters to watch a salsa band and browse the pechugas. The day following the baseball game, we got tickets to attend a bullfight, or corrida de toros. The stadium is in the design of a Roman coliseum and the show is as brutal and bloody as any gladiatorial match. Many of the people with whom I am friends here refuse to attend the corridas because they are disgusted by the spectacle of slaughter for entertainment. However, the stadium was filled far beyond capacity on this day. The photo below depicts a man on horseback plunging a 6+ inch long metal spearhead into the space between the shoulder blades of the bull. For me, this was the most alarming part of the whole killing. Here the matador demonstrates his complete control over the exhausted bull. There are so many dramatic themes brought forth through the brutal ritual of the bullfight - death, man vs. nature, dumb courage of an animal vs. controlled lethal courage of a man, men in funny green suits with pink socks. It is dance mixed with battle, complete with dramatic music played by a live band. In the end, however, the fight is not even. It cannot be seen from this angle, but there are abour four medium sized lances stuck into the back of the bull, not to mention the damage from the spearhead and two weeks of abuse pre-corrida. I left the stadium nauseated after seeing seven bulls murdered and carted off by the horns. I suppose that I´m glad that I had the experience, but I will never attend a bullfight again. Tonight I take an overnight bus to Merida to stay with Adam, Nate, and Jon. We are going to a pool party tomorrow afternoon in which we are supposed to be the only guys, so that should be estrogenous. I´ll spend a few days in Merida hiking, enjoying beautiful vistas, and hopefully not vomiting. Then I go to Curacao with my good buddy Rosie, and then I´m coming home for New Years! I hope that we get to see eachother when I am home, but if not, get your yellow fever shot and come on down for a visit.