Caracas, Venezuela

I want to explain how baseball saved Caracas.


The capital city of Venezuela almost did it to me. I have never visited a place and, with a clear conscience, have been able to opinionate that I didn´t like it. But, after a gun shot riddled first night´s stay, I was on my way toward making that claim. Why?

The United States continues to play the atagonist role in the socialist story put forth by the reigning regime. Therfore, this is not the most welcoming place for an American traveller.

In an effort to cancel out the sounds of the city over the first night I turned up the volume on the small tv I had been provided. The news reports are openly biased. On numerous occasions the US is explicitly indicted. Solidarity lies with the Palestinian struggle and from what I hear Chavez has already ousted the ambassador from Israel. Also, sounds like Chavez is trying to free Puerto Rico now as well. These indoctrinations effected my experience by making me feel like I was constantly wearing a disguise. When I walked the streets I felt as if I was an enemy, as if I was wearing a cloak preventing me from being easily discovered.

I am not sure exactly who is behind it, but Venezuela sets an offical exchange rate for foreigners that does not truly reflect the value of the currency. Hence, my American dollars are not as strong in Venezuela as they are in the rest of the world. Venezuela has burst open my already leaking budget restraints.

I took things personally and responded to these actions by making a political stance: I ate McDonalds for four straight meals. The American powerhouse is located on just about every street corner here. Pepsi, Levi´s Jeans, and McDonalds (to name a few) have continued operations successfully here despite any kind of rhetoric that persists.


There are some commendable aspects to the city. The subway system is very clean and efficient (similar to BART in San Francisco). New York´s MTA could learn a thing or two from Caracas. The Centro Sambil mall here is also a good stop. I learned from cousin Max in Central America that I can´t be a hippie for the trip´s entirety. It is just as important to know the rich part of a country as the poor. The mall is 4 stories and spread out over a huge area. American music pouring out of the mall´s speakers provided the day´s soundtrack. Lastly, on Sunday, I ran the hiking path within Carcas´central park. I had to stop once to see the sloth that was crossing the road - It is the most fascinating animal I have ever seen. Above all else, the people engaged in all kinds of sports.

Across the Carribean, I have rediscovered my appreciation for baseball. It is a sport for which I once had a strong passion and then for which I had a strong distaste. Steroids, Red Sox fans, and Fantasy Baseball (WHIP anyone?) had collectively, over time, destroyed the appeal of the game. While watching the boys and girls playing America´s past-time in between trees in the park and on makeshift fields I remembered why baseball is such a beautiful sport: It is a child´s game. Through the bent chain-linked fence I peered into a pure aspect of Venezuela and of my own past. It took a few days, but I finally found something that bonded me to the people of this country.