#SOSVenezuela (Second Report)

As I write this lines, the panorama has changed. Last night, the CNE announced they were up for a recount and Capriles accepted CNE' offer. It was a surprising turn of events, because one by one, State (more likely, government) institutions, pronounced during the day on the imposibility of making a recount, including the General Prosecutor. In a celebrating tone, Capriles asked his supporters to save the pots and pans they been hitting all week and change it for salsa tunes. Request attended, and now listening to "Lloraras" in the background, I do not want to forget the great sacrifices this struggle has implied for many people, the abuses this government has comitted against them. The recount could take a month, so we could see even more repression in the near future. Of course, I hope not.

At least since Tuesday (April, 16^th), reports have been appeared detailing two concerning issues regarding Human Rights that I feel necesary to fully recount:

1)  Repression, Ilegal Detentions and Tortures (most in Barquisimeto, Lara)

I have talked about this before but since I keep receiving disturbing stories, pictures, and videos; I cannot emphasize it enough to make it justice. Most of the abuses I have heard of have occurred in Barquisimeto (in Lara state). In this city, students and others protested at the doors of the local CNE office. For this, more than 80 people (mostly students, including three minors) were detained and it is my understanding that even those who could return to their homes are facing trials. Lawyers inform that one of the charges they are facing is “public order alteration”. Both lawyers and relatives of those detained have tell the press that the prisoners suffered tortures including being forced to sing chants in favor of Maduro (Chavez’ successor). 

You can follow the events (in Spanish, unfortunately) by going to the local newspaper Website “El Impulso”.

As today, all those detained are now out of jail but still facing trials. The same local newspaper tells the story about one of them, a woman who is in complete shock after the physical tortures she suffered during her detention.  

With citizen journalisms helped by phone cameras everywhere, dictators have a hard time these days. There are too many pictures of the events in Barquisimeto circulating in the Web. I am going to show you only some: 

From El Impulso

The next video speaks for itself, it is very strong so 'viewer discretion advised. We do not know the victim' actual condition




Protesters were also detained at Barinas (where Chavez was born) and Valencia. If you want to know more about these ilegal detentions, follow @alfredoromero

I have also read reports about 5 people being detained only for 'cacerolear'! (hitting pots and pans to protest). This happened in Zulia. Apparently in all regions, pro-government majors are cometing to see who is the most crazy server of Maduro, who treats people the worse, who criminalises more the protests.

2. Intimidation For Those Working For The Government or Receive Benefits from any Government Program (the missions) 

The secret of the vote is well protected in Venezuela, despite all the deficiences our electoral system has. Nevertheless, several public workers have been threatened and at risk of losing their jobs merely because their bosses "suspect" they did not voted for Maduro. Caracas Chronicles posted a recording where the Sports Secretary of the Zulia State says that they will fire those he knows voted for Capriles

But this is not only about jobs. Many others could lose the benefits of the social programs (Misiones) so fiercely promotted by Chavez. Again, only because those responsable of the programs "suspect" of some citizens, or because at some centers of natural disaster refugees that were waiting for a government-made house, Capriles won instead of Maduro. Political loyalty has always been demanded in this so called Revolution (to this respect, the unfamous "Tascon List"), but now that the Revolution is in serious danger to dissapear, more than ever.



In this Tweet, a PSUV (government party) deputee threatens those who are protesting against the election official results, with losing their benefits from social programs and state institutions.



It feels weird to write about this from abroad. All I have is my Twitter account and whatever my friends and family tell me. Without them, I would be altogether disconnected from this situation. But these are things you cannot help but be informed about, and write about; no matter how far away you are.

#SOSVenezuela (First Report)

(Written yesterday, a trouble with my Internet Connection did not let me to post it earlier) 

This is my account of what has been happening in my country since last Sunday (April, 14^th, 2013). I believe foreign reporters are overwhelmed because a lot have happened and they must make their own decisions to choose what to publish.  This is why I consider Bloggers work such as Daniel, Quico and his team and Miguel specially valuable. I guarantee you can find in our blogs what you cannot find elsewhere.   

1. Without a Country

Neither my husband nor I could vote for last Sunday elections. As soon as Chavez went to Cuba for surgery to never come back, my husband and I decided – with great sacrifices – to travel to Chicago in order to change our address at the Venezuelan Consulate and thus be able to vote there. At the Consulate we were assured that our new address would appear in the CNE (our electoral institution) website in no less than two months. In fact, two months later, our names were there and we slept in peace with the certainty that if new presidential elections were called, we would be able to vote (financially talking, a trip to Venezuela is out of our reach).

A few weeks later, Chavez’ death was announced and new elections were called. The CNE board (which have 5 members, and four of them are pro-government) decided to use the sameelectoral registry that was used for the presidential elections held earlier in October, 2012. This registry was last updated in April, 2012. With this decision, the right to vote for those who left the country after that time plus the ones who turned 18 during that period (almost a whole year!) was taken away. Our trip to Chicago was a complete waste of time and money.

2. The Campaign and Our Expectations

We were all sure that we were going to lose this elections. No single poll - that I remember of-  predicted otherwise.

Maduro – Chavez’ appointed successor – started his political campaign in the very same Chavez funeral, with a clear advantage after the overwhelming victory that Chavez got over Capriles in October elections. Plus he had the aid (and the money) of all the state bureaucracy that soon – against the law but, who cares? They are the law- put all their work in the campaign. It was obvious to us that Maduro was not Chavez. He made some very clumsy moves; the most famous to say during a public speech that Chavez appeared in the form of a “very little bird” and sang to him…

But still, the polls kept telling us he had the advantage.

In contrast, the MUD (opposition coalition) and his candidate, Capriles, had no money so the campaign focused in social networking and a marathon- like tour (in less than a month) throughout the country trying to cast more votes. With Chavez’ charisma out of the picture, Capriles was no longer the conciliatory candidate. His speech was aggressive, focused on the differences between Chavez and Maduro and the main troubles the country is facing such as insecurity and shortages.

In conversations, we often talk about Capriles’ candidacy as a matter of honor, as a way to say that even if we are not a lot of people, we are against it. It was more about taking a stand than winning. Not few claimed that Capriles’ candidacy was a “political suicide”.

3. The Surprising Results

On Sunday, since we could not vote, my husband and I stayed at home all day watching live-stream casts of Venezuelan TV, chatting with our families back in Venezuela and following the news in social networks. About five in the afternoon (Venezuelan time), my mom writes telling me we are winning. Although her news must come from a good source because she is not the kind of person who likes to spread nonsense rumors, I do not dare to trust this information yet. Could it be possible?

A few hours later – I soon lost track of time at that point – strange things start to happen. We are used to hear disturbing reports of irregular events on every election: voting centers being threatened by the government, soldiers in charge of the security of the centers doing illegal things, the government channels still engaged in political campaign etc. But what scares me is how often those reports are filling now my Twitter timeline and they include issues I have never heard before in places where usually nothing happens.

In so many voting centers that I lost count of, there are people who cannot leave after voting because armed government supporters in their motorcycles are waiting for them outside. The same gangs circled as many voting centers as they can, shooting into the air. My aunt writes telling me she is lying on the floor because she can hear the gunshots. Just a block away from my parents’ home, there is an electoral center placed in a school. I am in shock to read several tweets assuring that people is trapped there in a very chaotic scene that includes gunshots and tear gas bombs. I communicate to my family and they confirm the reports. I recognize the name of two other voting centers in the east area of Caracas (none that this is happening only in the east) where people is trapped and those who can, report via twitter that there are people wounded.

One of many Tweets released that day, of people warning about being trapped inside voting centers because they were threatened by armed government supporters

Opposition witnesses inside some electoral centers are locked in bathrooms. I could go on and on with this but the account is enough to assure you something: in no other previous electoral process have I have seen something like this – at this scale with this violence – happening. All this happens just when many centers are closing, counting their votes and sending them to the CNE (our electoral authority). The law says that this process must be public, but the violence impedes many people to presence it.

My family makes sure everyone is safe at home. Those moments when I am expecting to hear news of that cousin or brother in law who for a few minutes no one knows where they are and things are so dangerous to be outside, are particularly hard. Being so far away, there is nothing I can do but read the family group chat and wait.

At some point, Aveledo, the head of the opposition coalition (MUD) that endorses Capriles, speaks on TV. While my husband and I listen to his speech, two things are quickly obvious for us: that numbers are in our favor and that the MUD is afraid that authorities might do something illegal with those numbers. They send a warning. They know what is going to happen. - Maybe my mom was right – I tell my husband who believes that most definitely, my mom was right.

MUD fears and ours are confirmed when the CNE President, the infamous Tibisay Lucena, tells the country that Maduro has won the elections by a very narrow margin. When she announces the result of an election, she usually takes her time to speak about how the day went and then proceeds to name not only the main contenders but all the candidates. There were more than two presidential candidates running for this election and at least their families must have voted for them, but Tibisay does not tell us about their results this time. She usually also gave us the votes each candidate obtained in each state but also, not this time. She only says that even after including all the votes, the overall result wont change and quickly abandons the room, followed by the other three government-supportive board members. The fifth board member is suddenly left alone with the press. He says that he will ask for a voting recount.

Without knowing wether to be sad or not because we did not only expected to lose but to lose big, we await for Capriles words about the results. But first, Venezuelans are forced to hear Maduro’ speech.

4. The Other Half is No Longer a Minority

Maduro speaks at Miraflores’ balcony – the presidential palace – as Chavez used to do. Chavez baptized this spot as “the balcony of the people” but now there is not a lot of people watching his successor. The mood doesn’t translate to victory and the speech is filled with angered expressions to the opposition, calling them “bourgueise”. I wish my country were in such good state, that at least half its voters could be members of a “bourgueise”. But no, really. We are a very poor country. Maduro’ refusal to recognize that at least half the country do not agree with him, and to include them in his new government is a preview of what will come in the next days. But what we remember most about his speech as that he was open to the idea of a full recount. He will take back that idea the next morning, leaving us opponents more suspicious.

After Maduro’ speech, that almost put us all to sleep, comes Capriles press conference. At first I thought he was going to accept the results. He had no problem in doing so last October when he lost against Chavez and he is known for being a very rational fellow, one who won’t do anything without a basis, without a previous thinking and consulting process. This is why the fact that he doesn’t accepts the election results, comes as another shock of the night to me. Without saying the word “fraud” but definitely implying it, he ask the CNE to do a full recount of the votes.

With that, we turn off our computers and go to bed. Obviously, we find it hard to sleep.

5. So Far Away (Monday, April 15^th)

On the next morning, I rush to attend my English writing classes. Classmates and teachers are engaged in two conversation topics. First, a successful international food bazar that the Center (where my classes are) hosted and secondly, taxes. United States citizens (it is hard for me to call them “Americans”. For me, America is a whole continent that goes from Alaska to Chile, but I am slowly getting used to) are very stressed over their taxes. Today is their due date and we can expect long lines at post offices of people sending their forms. That is what life is about for them today, Taiwanese food and taxes.

I am glad my teacher does not dare to ask me about my sad aspect. The bags under my eyes are huge and I cried a bit at the bus when no one was looking so I am sure anyone can tell I am not my usual self. But I am wrong, no one can tell how far away I feel. No one, except my friend from Chile, who asks me about the elections as soon as she see me. I do not say much but is enough for her to answer “but you look so nervous!” and hugs me. I cry. A girl from Saudi Arabia briefly presence the scene, but since the conversation is in Spanish she has no idea what is going on. I feel ashamed and try to pay attention to class.

Who am I fooling? Even though I manage to answer all the questions the teacher asks me, I am paying more attention to Twitter. Thank God I never had one of this smart phones when I was in the university. I always refused to have one of those for security reasons and soon I ended up being the only one in my family and among my friends without a Blackberry. But as soon as I got here, I saw a deal for an android (with contract) too good to pass. Now is one of my must precious object. Without it, I could hardly keep in touch with my family and my country. Although I think that lately, checking Twitter this much is not good for me.

While I am struggling with English prepositions, protests erupt in almost any corner of Venezuela. Twitter gives me pictures of Valencia, Barinas, Cumaná, San Cristóbal, Caracas etc. Capriles has not called for any street demonstration but people are too angry to be contained in their homes. Anger always leads to bad decisions. Experience tell us that spontaneous protests are disorganized, radical and almost always, fiercely repressed by the government. Soon, pictures of injured activists confirm our fears (I consider unnecesary to post those).

One of the many protests of the day. This one outside CNE office in San Cristobal, Tachira

Capriles is on TV again. As the rational guy we are used to, he sends everybody home and asks his supporters to follow his directions only. Those directions are: to make a cacerolazo (that is hitting empty pots and pans in our homes) at 8 Pm that night and, if the CNE refuses to do a recount, to go to every state office of the CNE to present a document that collects election irregularities which explain the need of a voting recount. A big street demonstration to the CNE main office in Caracas to do the same is planned to take place on Wednesday.

The cacerolazo is overwhelming, if reports are correct. I have been in countless cacerolazos before, I have got tired of hitting pans with a wood spoon, I have broken several wood spoon in the process, I have tried using all my mom’ pots until I found the one that makes the loudest sound when it is hit. In my family and in my neighborhood, throughout the years, we have come with special rhythms for the cacerolazo and chants to accompany the metallic sound. When many people I know assure me that this cacerolazo has been like any other they have ever been, I think they are probably right. I miss being home. As odd as it sounds, protests are part of being home.

If I start hitting a kitchen tool in my apartment, my neighbors will probably think me crazy and call the police. Besides, what for? No one can hear me out here.

6. Terror (Tuesday, April 16^th)

As planned, people go on every main Venezuelan city except for Caracas to deliver a document at every electoral – CNE – office. But what it was planned to flow as a peaceful journey, doesn’t go that way. I cannot tell you exactly what happened because I am not there and Twitter reports are confusing at this point. But they all speak of things turning violent and complicated, demonstrations being repressed, government supporters attacking demonstrations, at Los Teques (a small city, capitol of the Miranda State where Capriles is the governor, is near Caracas), workers of one journal are trapped in the roof terrace because the building has gotten flames due to the actions of government supporters. In short words, and similar to Sunday early night, is all chaos. Again, my mom writes asking everyone to be safe back home, just in case. But those who live outside the country are the only ones who are safe, at least while we stay over here.

With the refusal of one of the directives, and although the new president was not supposed to be proclaimed until April, 19^th, Tibisay Lucena quickly proclaims Maduro as the new president of Venezuela. If the elections were fair was they claim, why so much rush? I ask myself.

Meanwhile, at the National Assembly, when MUD (opposition) depute William Davila asks for his right to speak, the president of the National Assembly, Diosdado Cabello (very close to Chavez) asks him first if he accepts Maduro as president of the country. Dávila says No and then Diosdado answers that until he doesn’t accept Maduro as his president, he doesn’t have the right to speak at the assembly. Soon after, in a series of events I could not follow closely, Davila, still inside the capitol, is hit in his head by a microphone someone trows at him. The next image was tweeted by deputee Julio Borges, showing how his desk looked after the horrendous attack.

When this happens inside the National Assembly, you can imagine  what the rest of the country is dealing with

As another highlight of the day I must mention Maduro’ speech. Sitting next to PDVSA (state oil company) Rafael Maduro in a table filled with red dressed people, he blames Capriles of all the country’ violence, including 7 people death at the protest. He changes his tone several times during the speech. For instance, at one point he screams that no one shall enter Caracas tomorrow (for the demonstration, although if the demonstration is supposed to be held in Caracas, I don’t understand why he is worried about those outside of town). A few seconds later he is saying the word “love” in a very soft tone. The conclusion of his speech: without legally being able to do so, he prohibits the opposition demonstration planned in Caracas for the next day. Is important to note here that Chavez never ever did something like that. Not that he did not wanted to, but he was always careful to keep some democratic appearances. He made all sorts of excuses to prevent a opposition demonstration to go to certain places but he never prohibited a demonstration all together in such aggressive tone.

There are two things that make Maduro a more dangerous fellow than Chavez: he is does not think much about his actions and he does not care for appearances. He dares to do what Chavez even in his worse days (and Chavez was no saint at all, as this blog can tell you) did not dare to do. Same thing you can say about Cabello and the rest of the “Revolutionaries. We are talking about new limits here, new ways of repression.

I am terrified specially for my family and friends because I know they want to go to the demonstration. But fortunately, Capriles is as scared of Maduro’ craziness as I am.

In fear of losing lives – although he did not say it but we all know it is because of that – Capriles suspends Caracas’ demonstration and asks for a safer option: another cacerolazo at 8:00 Pm. He urges his supporters to stay at home and wait for his directions. No need to say why I admire Capriles. If I have not say so before, here I say it, I sincerely admire a man who is capable of taking a stand against the government while keeping his supporters safe.

*

I will leave this report at this point. Today things has been worse but I just talked to my family via Skype and I am not in the mood to keep writing. I told my mom I had to go to finish this post but is not completely true. I had to go because I felt like crying again. I fear for them, for everyone back home. I fear for everything I once knew and considered mine. Not even in its worse days when I was there, and you must consider that I witnessed many terrible things, had I felt this way. My country is vanishing now in ways I cannot understand and this makes me feel so empty. I do not have a home in the same way I used to have, and I do not think I will ever regain this feeling of fully belonging somewhere.

A friend of mine, who is also from Venezuela and feels as depressed as I feel, has just invited me for a coffee. So in any case, with the risk of being selfish, I feel that I need to enjoy the Spring and keep my sanity. After all, this situation promises to only get worse, and last for some time.  

Peace

Chavez died today – according to the government, many claimed he died before and we might never know the truth. I know I must address this in my blog but I do not know how. I do not know what to feel, what to say or rather, what should I feel and what should I say. I am afraid, there is no coincidence between political correctness and my real feelings at this moment.

When I heard the news, these past fourteen years passed by me in an instant. My adolescence, my youth, all that fear, all that disappointment, all those street demonstrations, all those stories, all those lives that were lost in the way not by cancer but by the sound of a trigger. I wrote to my friends, to all those people who accompanied me during all those years when everything was about Chavez. All those people with frustrated dreams and hopes. Everyone who saw in this fourteen years a definite ruin of what we once called home. Pain, that is Hugo Chavez legacy. 

I felt sad for not being there in a moment like this. I was there at the beginning and I should have been there at the end. Instead, I am in the middle of a snow storm while all my relatives are text messaging each other to make sure everyone is safe at home. Many are now trapped in the chaotic Caracas’ traffic. Many Chavez followers are rightfully grieving their lost. But many others instead have chosen to get involved in violent street acts. A friend of mine had just arrived home walking, another was assaulted. Chaos, violence and division, that is Hugo Chavez legacy.

I think this is an appropriate moment to discontinue Chavez legacy. First, respect the mourn those who had a deep emotional connection with Chavez. I hope his leader rest in peace. He faced a long and painful desease and no matter what he did, no one deserves to suffer that much. But I also hope, that many others can also find the peace that this regime took away from them. I am talking about political prisoners, exiled, and the families of those who lost their lives. Everyone here needs peace, so we can move forward. 

Peace. It is such a corny word, a beauty contest' favorite. It is also a need, a strong desire many Venezuelans now have in their hearts. I wonder if we are ever going to achieve it or if the Revolution inflicted such profound wounds that now cannot be healed. 

PS: These are my thoughts moments after hearing the news. I hope I can come with a better testimony later. Do not click on "Click here to read the rest". There is not rest, for now. 

Where do you come from?

When people hear me speaking, they immediately ask where I come from. “Venezuela” – I answer, politely, with a smile, trying to pronounce my country’ name carefully so I won’t leave room for confusion. Even so, I always feel the need to add something like “in South America, the north part of South America” – It is only there when a general sound of relief follows – “Ohhhh” – as if now they finally know that I come from somewhere in the planet Earth. “And what is it like?” – They ask. I do not know what they expect me to answer so I hurry to make some comments about how nice is the weather “there”. After being under 30 F for weeks most of time, I realize the not- so- hot, not- so- cold, always –the- same weather that I enjoyed in my hometown was truly a privilege.

Once we have spoke about the weather, things can get a bit confusing.

Some quickly forget the word “Venezuela” and start naming Latin-American countries indistinctly throughout the conversation as if they were the same. Argentina, El Salvador… even Spain which is not even in Latin America. For them, I could be from either of those countries; who could tell the difference?. The ones I like the most – and I end up befriending - immediately lose interest and start talking about something else. The most informed ones proceed to the next question: “Isn’t that guy, who is against America, your president? You know… Chavez…He is like a bad guy, right?” – I smile, quickly reassuring my political position. I can stand to be taken for another national origin but I couldn’t stand to be taken for a government supporter. “Unfortunately, yes”. Life is simple here. For many people there are “good guys” and “bad guys”- like my president. I wish things were that simple.

But every time things get more complicated in my country, I find it even harder to be understood by some people here. How can I explain them that I am not sure if Chavez is my president no longer? How can I explain them that we don’t know if he is even alive? How can I tell them that we have a certain idea that he is sick but we are completely unaware of his exact condition? That he left to Cuba in November and that’s the last we saw of him? I would have to also tell them that now the president is somehow, absent; his allies do strange things in his name. We thought we had seen the worse when he was here, but even more terrible things can happen when he is not.

Nervousness and anxiety can be read, I guess, in the face of all Venezuelans; even those who are fully committed to the Revolution. Chavez has to sworn in for a new presidential period in three days but chances are, he is not going to make it. The president of the National Assembly has called this Constitutional process a “mere formality” and many others have expressed a similar opinion. The opposition has done the little they could: to rightfully demand a truth that has been long time denied despite its importance for country: “Where is Chavez? How is he exactly?”

A part of me is still unable to take account of all the things that are going on now, of all these days we’ve been looking for that truth in our Twitter Timeline with no success. Of all the things that have been said against everything I believe and stand for: Laws, Rights, Democracy, Respect. We are witnessing possibly the end of life that is determinant to the course of a country and this end is capable now to uncover horrors we never imagine. We are witnessing how a man we always thought to be the most powerful- Hugo Chavez-, has been dominated by silence, lies and secrets. And how a country keeps on going, how lives keeps on being lived, despite a total ignorance of who is really ruling us – and the dark suspicion that the domination has been entirely dictated by a different country (Cuba, of course).

I hope I can later make for you a better account and a better reflection of what has happened in these past few weeks and of what continues to happen. In the meantime, my family back home wonders if saving some food for days to come wouldn’t be too paranoid.

And when people ask me where I come from and “what is it like” in that place they have never heard of, I prefer to answer that I am from somewhere in South America, certainly warmer than here; ruled by something more complicated than this “bad guy” you have seen on the news.

I left. We lost. I won't give up

On Sunday night I told my husband I was off to bed. We had our computers tuned with Venezuelan TV Channels and my twitter account ready to receive the news. But I somehow knew I was not ready to hear them. My heart was still holding hopes of getting good news. Like Chavez lost. That we finally did it. My husband hoped the same. He even put a bottle of wine in the fridge, just in case of a celebration. Even if we wasn’t really there, in Caracas. Even if it was just the two of us and the other three Venezuelans we know in town. Obviously, I couldn’t sleep. I turned and turned in my bed, eyes wide open in the darkness.

About an hour later, my room door was open and lights immediately turned on. It was too important to hold any respect for my supposed sleeping. After all, my husband knows me too well, he knew I couldn’t possibly be sleeping at all in such a moment. We didn’t say much. He was standing at the door and his face told me everything: his face was that face of a man falling apart. We both fell, in a long embrace, crying. Not sobbing. It was a quiet crying as if it were disrespectful on our parts to cry, since we already left the country while others we care about so much are still there; and they throw all their best efforts on Capriles’ campaign.

Next, we had an odd conversation about our future. What to do next. It was implied that given how complicated things are in Venezuela, with absolutely not hope for us to have a better future – stuck in low paid jobs, in companies at risk of closing their doors…plus crime rates etc. – we were not going to go back. But we never told anyone so, this others’ supposition, what everyone thinks when a young couple leave. Not ours.

For us it was simply a matter of: “the Masters program lasts two years and once he’s graduate we will see”. In that quiet crying on Sunday I knew it: in our hearts, we never planned to stay abroad indefinitely, we both want to go back. We didn’t know if we were going to do this in two years or later on but we wanted (want.. I don’t know if I should put this in past or present tense) to raise our kids the way we were raised, where we were raised. To grow old in a house in some middle class Caracas’ neighborhood, in a backyard including an annoying mango’ tree.

I remembered all the elections I have witnessed since the Revolution started. Every time the CNE has announced Chavez as winner, I always go back to my bed and cry – an awful routine, I am aware. Inside, I always hold the same thought: that if some day I manage to leave the country, things like this will affect me a lot less; since I would be living a completely different reality. It couldn’t be farther from the truth: this time, being away, knowing the results; affected me a lot more.

My husband and I still haven’t figured out “the future”. Why should we? We just got married, moved overseas; that means a lot to handle, a lot of adjustments to be made. No one can ask us to decide yet if we want to go back, or stay or go somewhere else. I feel relieve we both want the same: to go back. If we can’t go back, it won’t be because we don’t want to. I suppose we will and we will keep monitoring with the aid of our family and friends still there how the situation develops before making any decision.

In the meantime, I want to share with you a few thoughts I had after this devastating results and after the immediate mourn and crying:

1. I don’t understand my country.
I have tried, don’t know if hard enough, to understand it. To study, to talk, see and work with all kinds of people. I still don’t fully understand how it works. There are many brilliant essays circulating in the web – unfortunately most in Spanish – talking about this, so I am glad I am not the only one. We – I mean “we” as those who oppose the current government – were so annoyed by the fact that a majority of Venezuelans voted last Sunday for a government that has done little good and much wrong; that we are working hard on finding an explanation. Or a word that can comfort us. Or both.

The classical “people- meaning, poor, low class people– ignorance” – is not enough. It is an argument often offered by people who think they are better than others and I don’t like that. I have seen a lot of sh… (excuse the word) in the middle class, as in the low class “barrios” as in the rich, exclusive class. In all those scenarios I have seen lack of moral, corruption, brutal ignorance, zero political even less democratic culture. Is like a plague and it doesn’t respect social classes. Explanations can also be found in the fear the government infringes on a lot of people: fear of losing their jobs, fear of losing their contracts or their benefits from social programs, fear of just… changing things. My mom asked me the other day if fear was not another evil derived from plain ignorance. I could not argue.

Last, perhaps the most “objective” argument is the power the government has. The overwhelming advantage our president enjoyed in resources and in having the military, the judicial and the electoral branches of power all for himself. I am still puzzled as to how we could ever be strong enough, smart enough, rich enough to overcome that power.
So for me, the “why we lost?” question could be answering arguing the following:
a) We, as a country, still got a lot to learn in terms of political culture to go to the ballots aware of our responsibility as citizens, and the consequences our actions have on others’ lives.
b) Our government in 14 years in power has manage to hold, well, a lot of power. This power comes in a ridiculous advantage when it comes to campaigning that will simply overcome any attempt to do to be in equal terms. We will never have fair election in those conditions.
c) However, and this is a paradox, it is only through elections that our current president must leave his office. Only this way guarantees a peaceful transition and sets the roots to establish a more democratic, respectful and lawful state.



2. We have a leader now: Capriles. And a great opposition alliance (MUD: hope it last). So no reason to give up.
I am quite aware we lost but we were so close to the goal we could almost smell it. Everybody agrees on this, on polls, on long opinion analysis, on reviews of the exhausting tour Capriles made throughout the whole country during this campaign. He did not make it but proved we can make it, proved that he has what it takes to go through this process. Capriles is the leader the opposition never had before and longed for. No one is more against populism than me, I don’t want to deify him or anything closer. I just want to state that this is a guy who is prepared for the job, who had the best possible reaction to the news of his defeat, who is political, smart, a democrat. Someone that can glue the whole unintelligible “salad” that is the Venezuelan opposition together. This, of course, with the help of those who have worked to make the MUD (an alliance of opposition parties), a reality.

Despite the results, the campaign was brilliant. Those in the opposition did exactly what they should. So I won’t lose my hope of witnessing the end of this Revolution and a peaceful transition leaded by Capriles and those who worked with them, from his party and from others.


3. Even here, far away from Caracas, I still have a role to play
When I moved out, I wasn’t sure of what to do with this blog. I decided to keep it open, until I figure it out. This blog, in my opinion, holds its value in the fact that it is an open, honest testimony of a witness within a particular situation; a political one. Now that I am away, it will be harder to bring stories from the ground, unless I include the daily talks I have with my family and friends back home (thank you, Internet).

But now that I have finished what is the first post here not published in Venezuela, I think there might be something valuable in the experience of an emigrant, who is still – as you have noticed – pretty much attached with what it happens back in Venezuela but who is also managing to adjust to her new life. My testimony and what I can recollect from those back home will continue filling the “pages” of this space.

Besides my vote from abroad which is counted only after the first, irreversible announce of the elections results has been made; Internet holds for us the possibility of sharing information, keeping those who needed informed, check if connections in Venezuela in key moments are working properly or if what we can do to spread a message and so on.
My physical address have changed. But my blog, my Twitter account and what I stand for remains the same, wherever I go.