Many times I have thought about the bad intentions of Venezuelan politicians to have allowed the beautiful hills of Caracas to be populated in the most improvised, inhospitable, degrading and mediocre way.
One ranch on top of another, intricate and steep streets or stairs must be walked by the majority of inhabitants to reach their homes. Excuses of many people to get used to talk as if they were criminals, to throw garbage in the street because after all it is already dirty.
Lonely and dark corners that lend themselves to misdeeds. Loudspeakers at intense volume that filter without hesitation into the humble homes, many of which vibrate from the din, so much so that they even seem to dance, but not for joy or pleasure but because of the abuse of which they are victims.
Many times the noise is not because of the “music” but because of the burst of gunfire. Guns, alcohol, debauchery, anarchy, nothing that sounds nice, however, despite the environment and although it seems incredible, in some homes tranquility reigns, that's how it was in my mother's house a good part of the time.
I grew up in a neighborhood in Caracas, on a hill. To get to that house you have to climb more than 300 stairs, dirty stairs, full of dog and cat excrement and human garbage. The fault of its inhabitants? Surely, but why has it been allowed to reach such extremes? No one at the top cares, in fact it is in their interest that people become poorer, more needy, more helpless and more mediocre so that they remain slaves of the same system.
As a child I saw the neighborhood with different eyes, any space was the best to play, we played with balls made of newspaper, a small milk carton could serve as a glove in an improvised baseball game, and of course any stick found in the neighborhood could serve as a bat.
The masonry pipes placed on the sides of some stairs to drain the rains, was a favorite place for many children to use as a slide, my brothers, sisters and I had a lot of fun.
As a teenager I hated the neighborhood, it seemed unfair to me to have been born and raised there when there were and are many places to have a better quality of life.
There was a lot of discrimination against people who lived in the neighborhoods of Caracas. I remember that my sister, after obtaining her TSU degree in chemistry and having started working in her field of study, she fulfilled all the requirements to apply for a loan to buy some household appliances, but when they saw her address, they rejected it immediately, just because of that.
Many times it was better to lie on your resume if you wanted to apply for a job, sometimes they only rejected you when they read your address, assuming you were a delinquent, or ill-mannered or foul-mouthed.
So many people in the neighborhood, “there are bad people, there are good people, here in my neighborhood there is everything”, as a song says, but discrimination was barbaric, it is not so much anymore, although it still exists. Fortunately, I think there are many educated, hardworking, empathetic, hospitable people, with good humor, in these marginalized and despised places, not everything is bad.
Now, looking at the neighborhood, both from the inside and from the outside, I don't see it as that bad. Am I lying? 🤔
It is what it is, at this level it is impossible to change or remake it. Perhaps if a zombie apocalypse came, its inhabitants would flee and look for other places to take refuge. Although with such intricate streets and so many corners, in such a situation, it would probably be one of the most sought after places to hide. You never know how life can surprise you, or maybe even the zombies don't want to come to the neighborhoods of Caracas.
