Páramo y la primera semana en Mérida

 

Although today is only our sixth day here, it seems like much longer. I lack a phone, but otherwise we are pretty acostumbrados to Mérida. I have had two of my five classes: Phonetics, Latin American Politics, Latin American Civilization, Business Spanish, and Botany in the Andes (in English). Wednesday night we checked out a spot near our apartment known as La Candelaria, which is mall-like place with a food court and a bar upstairs called El Alambique (The Still). Outside is La Plaza Bolívar, of which every town in Venezuela has at least one. During the day on Thursday, I went on my first run. A friend and I ran to a pool near Venusa, which is unfortunately only open to students of La Universidad de los Andes. However, we found a large market nearby with all types of fruit. The aguacates (avocados) here are about two or three times the size of those in the states and don't have the bumpy outside, but taste mostly the same. I still had a bit of energy left so I ran back to our apartment, which I think did more harm than good since I was running on a main road inhaling exhaust. In the future I will probably run either at a softball stadium near Venusa or mountain paths once our local guide shows us the best routes. I would live in this city in a heartbeat if it weren't for the congestion and pollution caused by the artificially low gas prices (~$.06 per gallon at the official exchange rate). Otherwise, no complaints! That night we met the Venezuelans who are learning English at Venusa and learned how to dance the salsa. I am more of a fan of the merengue since it is quite a bit easier, but the salsa is still pretty fun. Friday during the day (we don't have classes on Fridays) we took a trip to the Páramo (desert), which is an area about three hours bus ride into the mountains. We stopped at a touristy restaurant that had a playground in back with monkey cages. One of the monkeys was out of his cage and put on a little show for us; we gave him a little peanut butter. We enjoyed a fantastic lunch at a fancy restaurant near Mucuchies, where I had the trout and a friend and I shared a bottle of Vino de Mora (blackberry wine), made in Mérida. I feel bad often because we are essentially able to live like kings due to the exchange rate, while the Venezuelans are just scraping by. After lunch, we went to a national park called Parque Nacional Sierra la Nevada, which I would describe as the North Rim of the Grand Canyon meets Glacier National Park, where I swam in a stream briefly. Friday night we headed back to El Hoyo del Queque with the intention of testing our salsa skills. However, they only played dubstep, third wave ska, hardcore, and then classic rock, in that order, so we did not really have to step out of our comfort zone. It was fun to have an opportunity to do a little skanking, which the Venezuelans did not recognize.The bars tend to play one genre for a while and then move on to another. One type of music that I was surprised to hear quite a bit around Mérida is American pop from the 90's. The music here is extremely pleasant and fits the ambiance very well. They play quite a bit of reggaeton, salsa, and traditional Venezuelan music on the cuatro. Everything from shopping to a ride on the bus is made infinitely more lively by the great tunes. On the bus ride into the Andes, the driver was playing pretty typical Latin American music and I had one of those "Wow I'm in Venezuela!" moments. I forget every once in a while since I already feel at home.  Saturday during the day we checked out El Mercado Principal, which is a mall where people sell mostly handmade items. I picked up a purple striped shirt handmade in Ecuador. Later on, we met up with a Venezolana and hung out at a cafe. Last night, we headed to a bar called El Café Mojitos for a girl's twenty first birthday, where I had my first Mojito, as well as a pretty tasty Piña Colada. Today we made an adventure over to a sports complex with quite a few gyms, tennis courts, and a pool, which we jumped in briefly despite the fact that it is only for "training". We're thinking about finding some used rackets in town and playing some tennis. We stumbled upon an Italian restaurant close by, where we met a woman from New York living with her Venezuelan husband, who studied at a Presbyterian college in Tennessee while Venezuela was ruled by a dictator. Right now I am at another mall-like place called El Millenium using the internet. Just a few random observations in no particular order: It's really interesting to see the different skin colors, which vary from European white to the native brown and everything in between. La herencia española truly is an integral part of Latin America, much more than la herencia Inglés is in the United States. I have learned to close doors very quietly; the Venezuelans hate it when people slam doors. Although the streets and buildings tend to be dirty and dilapidated, inside spot are much nicer, muy parecidos of America.There is a strange contrast of luxury in the midst of hardship. The houses all have walls with broken glass affixed to the top, sometimes barbed wire or an electric fence. Also, "inside" is a somewhat relative term; many places will be sheltered but open to the outside since it is 70-80 degrees year round. I still have yet to pick up a sense of temperature in Celsius; my host mom will say "Está treinta grados hoy; hace mucho calor!" My Spanish is improving dramatically; I carry around a little notebook to write down the new words I learn. In the past couple days I have learned about six different ways of saying "fireworks" since there are constant fireworks during the evening due to a celebration of the new year. The word chévere roughly means "cool", but the Venezuelans use it for pretty much everything. How are you? Chévere. The aguacates are on sale at the Garzón (kind of like Walmart). Chévere. My sister is in town for the weekend. Chévere. You get the picture. I also picked up the phrase, "Como vaya viniendo, vamos viendo," which is the equivalent of "let's play it by ear." A direct translation would be something like "As it may come, we see." The hardest part for me is understanding the Venezuelans; they typically don't pronounce the "s" at the end of most words, so Venezuelan Spanish is much more smooth and lyrical, but also more difficult to understand. The house above is not where I live; I saw it on a walk and liked the flowers. Above is my host mother with her umbrella. The politician advertised above was Chavez's opposition in the 2012 election. Most of the walls on the main road are painted with political ads. Typically the opposition's will be littered with graffiti, while those of the Chavistas are not defaced. Guess who the statue is! Hasta luego.