So yesterday I went to Valera to get a few things. I got a late start because I was supposed to go with Francisco at 11, but at 10:53 he decided he couldn´t make it. So, I set out by myself.
Anyways, to get there from Carorita requires catching a transport jeep to La Puerta and then a van or bus for Valera. It’s pretty simple, but it takes about an hour and a half with all the stops. After I ran my errands and visited the internet café in Valera, I headed back home.
Every time I’ve made the trip from Valera I’ve gotten on a van that then drove straight to La Puerta. So when the van pulled into a town, I assumed that it was La Puerta. This was confirmed when I saw the town square next to the church and police stations. As it is most convenient for me to get off at the last stop in La Puerta, I stayed put in my seat. Of course, then the driver proceeded to steer the van back onto the highway and head straight out of town. I was a little confused, and by the time I got him to stop and let me off we had gone at least a mile up the hill. So I began to hoof it back down.
So 30 minutes later, I walk into the town square in La Puerta. Only, it looks a little different. That’s because it is the wrong town. It´s Mendoza, which I´m guessing had the same city planner as La Puerta. At this point I started to curse. So I figured the only thing I can do is turn around and start walking in the direction I just came from and hope that another transport van drives by and picks me up. An hour later, at least 10 of them have driven by, but the problem is that none of them have picked me up. Are they full? Not all of them. Do they hate gringos? Maybe. Is giving the thumbs-up hitch-hiking sign and waving your arms really offensive in Venezuela? It´s entirely possible.
So at this point its pretty dark, I´ve nearly been hit by at least 5 cars, I´m pretty sure I´m not even close to La Puerta yet, I´ve got flip-flop blisters between my toes, and I´ve already missed the last transport up to Carorita. Oh, and at one point a little dog attacked me.
Finally a truck responds to my waving and slows down. I ran up and saw a middle aged guy with his family. I ask him if he can drive me to La Puerta, and he responds, in perfect English, ¨Of course, no problem!¨. He is exactly the 4th Venezuelan that I have met who speaks English. I hop in the back and after 10 minutes at 60 mph have confirmed my suspicion that I was not even close to La Puerta. Then, when I get to the transport stop in La Puerta, I see a man whom I had met before who also happens to be going up to Carorita. He tells me there is another kind of transportation that will take us, which turns out to be I think an old army truck.
Anyways, I made it home. The best part was when I explained what happened and Emilio made me set it out.
I’m not sure yet if this affects my plans to take a long and complicated trip to the coast by myself. I mean, how hard can it be?
2 comments:
Wow! Just laughed out loud like three times! Army Truck? Fabulous. Tell all them I've been meaning to write but have been super busy. I'm going to write sometime in the next couple of days. Tell Emelio to set it out for being a marico.
Hey Coop,
I am enjoying the stories of the young gringo vs attacking dogs.
I hope all is well and you recieved my text messages last weekend. I am still puzzeled on how you sent me a text message. Tracy and I will be thinking about you while you are there and your Dad is in Montana, and your Mom is in Ireland and we keep the dog. Not that we mind of course.
Looking foward to more stories. Good luck and wish you safe travels to the coast.
Post a Comment