El Fin

Tuesday afternoon, our host sister invited us to a jazz show at the University. We were supposed to meet at the last Trolley station, but for whatever reason that did not work out, so I took a moto-taxi to la Facultad de Humanidades where the show was. I have been itching to try out a moto-taxi for the whole semester, so I am glad I got the chance before I left. La Universidad de los Andes is spread out throughout the city in different facultades, and somehow I managed to find the building where the concert was. The architecture was pretty awesome and featured a giant courtyard in the center full of tropical plants. It made us a little bit mad that we went to a dinky school in an old apartment building when we could have attended this awesome university, had more knowledgeable professors, and met people our age. The show was great; they lacked brass, but the piano player was pretty phenomenal. That evening, there was a farewell party at Venusa; lots of goodbyes, pretty standard. It was most sad saying goodbye to the Venusa cook, Señora Noris, who had become somewhat of a mother figure for us. Yesterday we decided to go hiking for one last time and took a bus to el Parque la Mucuy outside of Tabay. This park is the beginning of the trail to Pico Bolívar and Pico Humboldt. Since it was Venezuela’s Labor Day, the park had kind of a 4^th of July atmosphere with families grilling and swimming in the frigid river. We found the start of the path to Bolívar and decided to hike it until we got tired. We hiked for a total of about five hours in the cloud forest and then headed home. That evening, Mariangela and Francisco cooked us a farewell dinner of various types of pizza. I probably mentioned this already, but Venezuelans usually put corn on their pizza, something I’ll probably start doing with my homemade pizzas. Today I packed up all my stuff and have been hanging out with my host mom and sister. The taxi is coming at 4AM tomorrow to bring us to El Vigia. From there, we’ll fly to Caracas, to Miami, to Philadelphia, and finally to Minneapolis on Saturday evening.

I have been thinking about this post for quite a while trying to think of how I can describe what kind of experience I have just had. I do not think I have ever lived more fully, more in the moment than in the past three months. This trip has made some things very clear and other things hazy. I have developed a deep love for this country and an eager anticipation of the mysteries that the rest of South America holds. Venezuela really has it all: tropical beaches, towering peaks, steamy rainforests, endless savannahs, and immense tepuis. It is just such a beautiful country and I feel so blessed to have had the opportunity to live here. We experienced the death of the most loved and hated leader of Venezuela and the election of his successor. I lived Venezuelan politics in a way that I have not experienced those of America. Regarding the United States, I have learned a great deal about its role abroad through my classes, but more through conversations with people and seeing firsthand the influence of American culture and industry. I definitely learned to really appreciate some of the organization and efficiency we enjoy in the states. Although I am somewhat disappointed that I did not have the opportunity to summit the legendary Pico Bolívar, that’s just another reason to return. Hearing about my friends’ plans to travel South America after the program, I was turned off by the brevity of their time in each place. In the past few months, I have realized that I cannot just spend a few days in a city and move on. I need to sit down, talk with people, climb a mountain, and discover what makes their world turn. I know that I will return to South America sooner or later; I got a taste of just one small corner of this vast continent, which only made me excited to get to know the rest. I also learned quite a bit about my inclinations in terms of geography. Although I love Minnesota and all of its people, lakes, and seasons, I have been so happy living in the mountains. Beginning the day with a hike up a mountain is a pleasure I think I will always long for. I remember some advice my Dad seems to live by, something along the lines of, “it’s all about moderation,” and I think this trip has emphasized just that. Every time I go into the mountains and get wet, tired, dirty or lonely, I learn to appreciate the comforts of the city and its people. And every time I grow weary of humdrum city life, I remember the peace of the mountains. I think Spongebob might have actually phrased it most elegantly when he proclaimed, “Fret not, my dear friend, for I have learned the truth. It matters not whether one is dirty or clean, for can cleanliness exist without filthiness? And would we know filthiness without cleanliness?” It’s all about the balance. Although I have always loved mountains, I was really reminded how much I love to wander. There is something absolutely fantastic about looking at a far off mountain, ridge, or valley and thinking “let’s go there.” And when you get there it looks totally different from what you thought, and then you notice the next mountain… This trip also reminded me how much I dislike tour-type activities; for me, the fun is exploring and maybe getting lost occasionally. I feel blessed to have met people like Manuel, the tour guide who lives in Mucuy Baja near his friends El Rojo and Gustavo, the farmer/metal-artist and Swiss Army Knife designer/musician/painter, respectively. It was inspiring to see these groups of people creating their own world where they both contribute to the world and cultivate their own happiness among their family and friends. If nothing else, I met some of my best friends on this trip as well. I could not have asked for a more relaxed group of people with which to travel Venezuela. I have learned that relationships forged in crazy circumstances often do not translate well into everyday American life, but I am confident that a few of the people I have met on this trip will be my lifelong friends. I do not know how I could ever say goodbye to such an amazing place so I’ll go with Bob Dylan on this one: “Goodbye is too good a word, so I’ll just say fare thee well.” Fare thee well, Venezuela.