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What the Hell Happened with...?
What the Hell Happened with... Venezuela

What the Hell Happened with... Venezuela

Florida

Following the events of the first chapter's opening introduction, John Keeney, the son of the country's top journalist, Matt Keeney, and his - er, only - partner Beatriz "Bia" needed a theme for the new newspaper column they created, "What the Hell Happened With"... the idea was to bring up interesting topics and tell their story. But after an uninspired weekend, John and Bia had no desire to hear Kevin's, or worse, Matt Keeney's, father and owner of the station they had been employed at for a little over a month. But the big truth was that they needed something as soon as possible, as long as it was exciting. Despite the struggle against the clock, the two didn't seem to mind too much as they managed to escape to the best state in the country, Florida, more precisely to the sunny shores of Palm Beach. John got a great weekend deal at a five-star hotel in front of the beach, with palm trees surrounding the grounds, an exclusive golf course, and a warm water pool. In addition to the paradisiacal environment that South Florida provides, the weather cooperated, even though that area is known to have unpredictable weather conditions - seriously, it is easier to win the Mega Millions than to predict the state's weather.

Although he thought the situation with his father was a bit awkward, he enjoyed Bia's company, but not to the point of desiring a relationship with her, since she had other plans at the moment. Ignoring the subject, the two could coexist without any problems and enjoy each other's company, smoking cigars, drinking cold beer and cracking jokes. Like it or not, Bia had become John's best friend and vice-versa in a very short amount of time.

- You know, Bia, I never got to tell you this, but my father never officially divorced my mother. - John said, completely ignoring the fact described in the previous paragraph.

Bia removed her Ray Ban Clubmaster sunglasses from her face and stood up, still holding half of her cigar between her lips and a drink in her hand.

- What the hell does this mean?

- Nothing. - John lied, obvious.

- Come on, spit it out!

- Well, I wasn't going to say anything, but you're committing adultery.

- Me? - Bia felt offended. - Your father is, you silly! I'm not married!

- That's it then, duck your responsibility!

- Who are you to say anything? As I remember, you were also dating that married woman who moved to Lithuania...

- Latvia. - John corrected her.

- Whatever! I don't even know where it is.

Good thing her job doesn't involve keeping people informed... Right?

- Border with Russia.

- That sucks.

- Such a big country has many borders. I'm just sorry.

- And I also wouldn't want to say...

Uh-oh. Bia knew how to make him mad.

- Don't! - John asked.

- But since you brought it up. - Bia continued just to irritate him more.

- I'm warning you, Bia, knock it off!

- I've sort of become your stepmother. - Bia smiled ironically.

- Oh, for fuck's sake! You had to bloody say it!

- Relax, John, honey. - Bia stroked John's head. - I'll be a good stepmother and not like the ones in the Disney movies.

- Thank you for the haunting image. And for ruining my childhood.

- And maybe when your father is away we can fool around a little.

John's eyes widened.

- Great, now I'm a character from Flowers in the Attic.

- More like Dronningen.

- Who's that?

- It's a Danish movie. The stepmother sleeps with her stepson.

- Thank you for givin' me some spoilers!

- It's not a spoiler. It's literally the whole plot!

- Okay, whatever.

As annoying as Bia could be on occasion, John enjoyed her company and having her around. That's why he made the decision to invite her to the Sunshine State at the last minute. Although he appreciated her company, as said before, the elephant in the room - read seeing his father - still annoyed him, also a euphemism for completely bewildered, abhorred, disgusted.

- We could talk about what the hell happened to Disney.

- I'll tell you what the hell happened to Disney. They screwed the fucking franchises! Star Wars, Ice Age, Marvel - not that this particular one is a masterpiece. Heck, even Split Second, one of the most fun racing games I have ever played.

- Well, since we are here, we could swing by Orlando.

John shrugged his shoulders as he blew the smoke out of his cigar.

- If you want.

- I may even buy you an ice cream and a lollipop.

- Okay, again. Quit that shit!

Still, it could be worse.

After the relaxing moment at the pool, John and Bia went to the small town center, in order to rent a car. But what Bia didn't consider was that being an assistant to a person who likes cars in a car rental place was like going to a museum with an art lover. Simple moments could last forever. But as it turned out, renting a vehicle with John could be a bit stressful.

- Good morning, sir. - said the attendant, who wore a sandy green and yellow dress.

- I would like to rent a vehicle. - Said John, the redundant one.

- We have an exclusive line of hybrids!

Uh-oh.

- No, seriously. - John started to laugh. - No, no, I wanted a real car. Prius is a spoiled child's toy.

- I am sorry, sir, but our policy is to encourage hybrid vehicles for the sake of the environment and the climate crisis.

That being said, John had no choice. He simply smiled, turned his back, and went to the car rental counter next door. Hard problems, easy solutions.

- Good afternoon. - John smiled at the other attendant at the counter. - I wanted to rent a car and not be lectured by some activist disguised as a clerk.

- Which vehicle would you like?

Finally a breakthrough.

- Combustion. - John almost begged. - So loud that the engine is capable of bursting my eardrums and thawing the ice in Antarctica.

- In my system we have available a Mustang Ecoboost...

- No, no, no. Nothing "eco." "Eco" is not an option.

- John, now you're just being ridiculous. - Said Bia.

- Fuck Greenpeace!

Curiously the same answer as his father, Matt Keeney.

- We have other options too, Mr. Keeney.

- Play the cards.

- Let me see. - The attendant clicked a few times on her mouse. - Mercedes c180. BMW 320i. Porsche 991.

- Pick any one, John! They're all the same! - Bia complained.

Oh, after years of watching Top Gear, hearing that sentence was worse than cursing his mother. Or should we say... Stepmom?

- Didn't you say you were going to be the good stepmother?

- I have my moments. - Bia mocked him.

- Don't you have anything more aggressive? - John asked the attendant. - I'll even take an old convertible.

- We have a Mustang GT convertible.

John finally let out a wide smile.

- I'll take it.

- Okay, Mr. Keeney. Do you want to put insurance on your wife?

John stares at Bia, bored with the whole time-consuming process of a simple car rental. And, of course, he couldn't help but smile at her frustration.

- What do you think, honey? Wanna bang this baby up?

- What? - Bia didn't understand.

A few kilometers away by car and an unbearable traffic jam on the freeway, Bia and John finally arrived at the happiest place on earth, or whatever. As expected, it was jam-packed. Families, children, tourists. It didn't matter. The place still maintained the magic of half a century of history. You can be eight, twenty, or forty years old. If Mickey appears in front of you, it is a moral duty to talk to him and all the other characters.

- This place never ceases to amaze me. - said John.

- My brothers would love it. - Bia recalled.

Brothers?

- You have brothers?

- I told you, John!

You did?

- Oh, sorry. I was busy giving the finger to the BMW driver who was zigzagging.

Like a regular BMW driver would do.

- I have three siblings.

- Wow. Three brothers. Are you the only girl?

- Positive.

- And they are younger?

- Yes, they are. Elliott is six, Kyle is nine, and Oliver is twelve.

- And where do they live?

- With my mom in California.

- And you just dropped them off?

- I didn't drop them, John. I went to college and left.

John is judgmental, but he has done the same thing.

- I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be a jerk. - John apologized, but not really.

- There's nothing to apologize for. They are fine.

- If they're in California, then no, they're not fine.

- I know where you' re going with this. - Bia smiled, ironically. - But it's not so bad. Look at me.

- That's not helping your case, either.

- Shut up, John.

After a walk to stretch our legs, a doubt remained in the air.

- What are we going to do?

- I don't know. - Bia looked to the sides. - Maybe there will be some inspiration along these paths.

But as it turned out, inspiration was limited only to the creators of children's stories and characters, because neither Bia nor John could think of an interesting theme for the first column. Whatever the universe was holding in store, it was not yet the right time to reveal it. At least that's what Bia thought. During the stroll, John sat down at a colorful Mickey's diner. An ice cream wouldn't hurt, the Florida weather was even pleasant, a cool and gentle breeze.

Waiting patiently for his turn, John examined the faces of everyone in the cafeteria. He could notice different languages, English, Portuguese, Spanish, Italian, French. But then he realized that he urgently needed something more relevant to do.

- Thank you. - said John as he received his chocolate chip.

- Nada.

Well...

- Did you say "nada"?

- I get Spanish mixed up. I am Ramirez. - he said.

Ramirez didn't look very tall, wore a white polo shirt, shaved his head, and had big lips. Florida is known to be a very comprehensive state when it comes to nationalities. Speak English or Spanish. Even more so at Disney.

- Ramirez. - John was intrigued. - A Latin name. Are you Cuban? They make good cigars.

- Venezuelan.

John created a mental map of the Americas. Some time later, he concluded:

- You've made quite a trek here. It would be easier if you came in a boat from Cuba like everybody else does.

Ramirez began to laugh.

- But our reasons wouldn't be much different, really.

- What do you mean?

- Don't you know?

- Know what?

- Venezuela was once a very rich country, one of the most prosperous in the Americas.

- And what happened?

- Oh, where do I start?

And so, John's Chip 'n Dale set off metaphorical fireworks in his mind. Finally, by a mere happenstance of the universe, John got a story topic for his column with Bia. Still, John wanted to hear from other sources before he even began writing his first pages and verses.

- Intriguing. - John said. - What a story.

- It sucks. - Ramirez replied. - But I'm here, which is very good.

- I had no idea that Venezuela is in a huge bottomless pit. And that it has people who defend it.

- These people have no idea. It is very easy to defend a cause from the backyard of your house, from far away.

- I appreciate your time, Ramirez. And good luck.

Minutes later, John was reunited with Bia in the parking lot. It happened that she took advantage of the moment without him to explore Epcot, the second of the four Disney theme parks. In other words, while one was working, the other was out enjoying it.

- We have a feature. - John replied, excitedly.

- Oh, do we? - Bia was curious.

- You won't believe it, I met a guy from Venezuela here.

- I'm not surprised, Florida has a lot of immigrants.

- Yeah, yada, yada, yada. But then he told me about his country and how prosperous and rich Venezuela once was.

- Interesting.

- So...

- Let's find out more about it.

And that was it. After another lucky swing, Bia and John returned from Florida with an idea. And not only that. There was no reason to think otherwise. So good that it had the power to delight everyone.

- You are completely out of your minds! - said Kevin. Or rather, he complained.

Well, almost everyone...

- Come on, Kevin! - John tried to make a point. - It's a good topic.

- I'm not questioning the topic. But you won't convince your dad to take you to a shithole in South America!

If Venezuela is a hellhole, then South America is a Swiss cheese.

- What do you know about Venezuela? - asked Bia.

- It's a horrible place. It's a dictatorship. A leftist dictatorship.

The worst of all.

- What could go wrong? - John ignored his boss's concerns. - And how hard can it be?

- All right. All right! - Kevin gave up on trying to fight. - Do you want to go to that backwater? Fine! But after you get devoured by jaguars, don't come crying to me on my lap!

- Lap? Jaguars? - Bia didn't get it.

- Since when do I cry? - John asked the question... the wrong one.

- Is this the part you dispute? - Kevin, yes, asked the right question.

Caracas, Venezuela

Getting a waiver was more difficult than landing at the international airport in Caracas. John occasionally glanced at his wristwatch to check the time. Not that the opinion of others was relevant to him, because his motivation was clear. To tell a story. That would be the main goal. Then, he remembered that he was with Bia, who was patiently waiting for her luggage to be transported from the plane. Tired of waiting for her, John sat down on one of the chairs and decided to write a few lines to kill time. But who said that inspiration entered his body like the evil spirit in The Exorcist? Once again, he hoped for some miraculous indication. And, fortunately, he got the sign. A few meters from the set of chairs, John observed a sign with the name of the airport. He thought it curious at first, as the name did not initially signify anything.

- Simon Bolivar?

As soon as I landed at the Simón Bolívar International Airport, I didn't see anything very different from what I would find if I were going to Los Angeles, Barcelona or Rio de Janeiro. It's an airport, so unless I was on a different planet, I was not surprised to find tourists, security guards, airplanes and some noisy children. Nothing much different from the big developed centers of the globe. It was the name of the airport that intrigued me. At first, I assumed it was about someone important to the country, but it was a little more than that. According to history, Bolívar fought for the independence of most Latin American countries from the Spanish colonizers. And, obviously not alone, he achieved his aim after arduous battles. He died of tuberculosis in 1830.

After a long and patient wait, and writing a few lines, John met Bia again in the airport lobby, more precisely near the automatic exit door. The next question would be finding a way to go downtown, which could be a bit risky for two outsiders in an unknown land. A man approached Bia and asked for her bag. John stepped in and told him to go away. What's worse, language was also a problem. Who knows what that man uttered to John after the scuffle, but by the tone of his voice, it was not friendly at all. Ten minutes after the incident, the hunt for a taxi was unsuccessful. Bia began to get impatient as did John. Calling for a taxi shouldn't be too complicated. In the movies you just raise your hand. As far as John remembered, just wave and a yellow car will take you from JFK airport to anywhere in New York. In a funny way, or not, this was also part of the puzzle.

- Hey - A man in an old black Ford started to wave to the two of them. - Come on!

Bia stared at John. It wasn't looking like a very good idea. So John went ahead and talked to the man, to find out what he had in mind. He then returned to Bia after the conversation.

- He will take us.

- Is that all? - Bia remained skeptical. - You talked to the guy and he is nice?

- Trust me. You trust me?

- I really don't.

But despite her skepticism, everything worked out ok. The man got out of his vehicle and carefully placed his luggage in the trunk. He probably took more care of Bia's Louis Vuitton than the luggage carrier at the airport. When he finished the job, he closed the rear doors, sat back in the driver's seat, and sped off.

- Thank you very much for having us. - said Bia. - The people there are very strange.

- They are criminals trying to get a few bucks from "gringos". Don't be fooled. You seem like a nice couple.

John and Bia started laughing.

- We're not a couple. - Bia answered.

- She's dating my dad. - John only made the conversation even funnier. - Please don't ask.

- My name is Solomen. But you can call me Solo. And that's fine. No questions asked. - Solo replied with a smile.

Solo's joy at driving the taxi made John intrigued.

- Welcome! - said the taxi driver. - I hope you enjoy your stay. Why have you come to the country?

- We are journalists. - Bia answered. - We are writing a story about Venezuela.

- About the crisis, of course. There are not many reasons to talk about this place.

If he is saying...

- Not necessarily. - John said. - Of course, the case of Venezuela is quite particular and deserves most of the paragraphs. But whatever I have to write.

- Be sure to visit Salto Ángel and the park. It is beautiful. They shot the new Point Break movie.

John had no idea that there was a reboot of the 1991 classic. Still...

- We can go. - John answered, but without much conviction. - Why not?

Taking advantage of the opportunity, Bia decided to ask Solo a risky question. After all, you never know when a fierce nationalist will cross your path and your reaction.

- What can you tell us about the Venezuelan economy?

John found the question odd, but said nothing. What bad could happen?

- A disaster. - Solo replied. - Everything is missing here. Inflation here is the highest in the world. In 2018 it was as high as 65,000%.

John almost had an aneurysm.

- Come again. - John heard the sentence, but couldn't believe the numbers.

- 65.000%? - Bia couldn't believe it either.

- How does this work?

- Local coin is worthless. And you have people from outside blaming the US for the state of the country. - Solo raised a point.

- And you agree?

- Of course not! Only imbeciles accept that shit. And fact, there were economic sanctions from Trump, but the country was in crisis long before. The Bolivarian revolution sank the country into crisis. The Chaves-Maduro model doesn't work and never will.

- What would this model be? - Bia asked.

And the most important thing.

- And how do you know all this? - John became curious.

- I am a historian. - he said.

- And a taxi driver?

- Don't ask. - Solo smiled. - Okay, here it is. Chavismo is a left-wing ideological model adopted by Hugo Chávez, the country's former president. Basically, they defend public education and hate foreign capital. Want an interesting statistic? - Solo changed the subject. - An estimated 20% of Venezuela's population has left the country since 2014, which should give more than 6 million people.

- Surprising. - John commented. - I didn't imagine a migration crisis.

- And where do they usually go?

- Peru, Colombia, Brazil. Even if these countries have problems, none of them have a worse situation than here.

After a while on the road, Solo cruised the streets of the capital for the first time. They didn't see anything very different from the window of Solo's taxi. People walked calmly on the street, Bia spotted a McDonald's from afar, and John found many old car models. The first impression was not bad, but not exactly good either. Neutral, John would say. Meanwhile, Solo made a suggestion:

- I have a cousin who is a university professor. If you want, I can get an interview with him at the school. I can drive you there tomorrow.

- That's a great deal. - said Bia.

- I'll call him up. His name is Gomez. And you?

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

- John and Beatriz.

- Are you sure you're not a couple?

Bia remained silent, while John began to laugh.

- She'd kill me in the first week of dating.

- You're an idiot! - Bia got angry.

- See that? - John joked. - Didn't I tell you?

After a very exhausting and long trip, John and Bia just wanted some peace and quiet. Later that day, Bia saved Solo's number, who arranged to meet Gomez the next morning at the University of Caracas. But the peace and quiet that the couple - well, more or less - desired had to be delayed. As John checked into his hotel, he had some bad news.

- We will have water restrictions. - said the receptionist.

- Plumbing problems?

- No. We have no water.

Oh, John didn't expect to hear that.

- What do you mean?

- We don't have water for all the rooms, sir. So, upstairs, you use water from one o'clock in the afternoon until two o'clock in the afternoon. The upstairs uses the next hour...

John was completely lost at the receptionist's explanation. To begin with, Bia was not going to sleep in his room. Regardless, it seemed pretty clear. There wasn't much to be done. Except to tell Bia the harsh news.

- The hotel is out of water.

- Problem in the plumbing?

- No. They don't have water for all the rooms.

It took a while for Bia to absorb this information.

- No water for all the rooms?

- Nope.

- What does it mean?

- It means that we will only have water in our room for an hour.

- Oh, bugger.

- Tell me about it.

Still, it could be worse.

The receptionist escorted them to their rooms. Initially, John was going to sleep on the second floor, while Bia on the third. Even with the 1940s décor, it gave the impression that the walls had been freshly painted, although the long red carpet on the floor must have been at least fifteen years old. But as John took the keys and opened the room door, he really regretted it:

- Holy shit. I'm in the room 1408. - He said with a reference to John Cusack's movie.

Well, John understood that complaining was useless. So, he simply dropped his luggage on the floor, lay down on the bed, and blacked out completely. He even had a funny dream, about a woman with long dark hair in a white dress running happily in the grass. As he approached her, he began to feel something strange. Then she mouthed words for the first time, in a thick, demonic voice:

- One hour of water per floor.

John was frightened awake and totally sweaty with tension. As soon as he recalled the announcement, John ran to the shower, took off his clothes, and let the water run down to gain a little time. But that's when it happened. As soon as he stepped onto the wet floor tiles, noises at the door interrupted his precious hot shower.

- Holy crap, who is it now? - he asked himself.

To avoid wasting even more of the time he should have spent cleaning the dirt from his body, John simply put a towel around his waist and walked to the door. He was not so surprised by the person waiting on the other side.

- Bia?

- May I use your shower? - Bia asked, embarrassed, but at the same time gentle.

It smells like a trap. Still...

- Sure, sure.

- There's no water on my floor.

- But not in the next hour?

- The receptionist knocked on my door. She said there would be no water on my floor for the rest of the day.

- Oh, crap.

- Have you bathed yet?

Uh-oh. What was he going to say?

- Yes, yes. - John lied blatantly.

- Can I take a shower?

- Of course. Make yourself at home.

And that was it. She brought along a small red bag with her utensils. Shampoo, toilet paper, towels, soap, and perfume. Initially, John hoped her bath wouldn't take too long, after all he felt all sticky with dirt from the street. He needed to get clean. Unfortunately, luck wasn't with him this time, as Bia finished just as the water on the floor was cut off.

- Oh, boy. - she said on the other side of the door. - The water ran out just in time! What a break!

- Yeah, lucky. - said John, grumpy.

Finally, Bia came out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel with the smell of vanilla on her body and her hair wet. At one point, Bia caught John staring at her like a fool.

- What? - she asked.

- Nothing, nothing. - John tried to hide it.

This must have been the scene in the movie where the couple who hate each other in the first act start to get along. The moment called for warmth. Bia was pleased with John's kindness and thanked him for giving up his shower momentarily. And then she said goodbye and left towards her room. Dirty, sweaty, and a little frustrated, John simply sat up in bed and tried to get to sleep again. He looked out the window and at the mundane life outside. Something seemed so out of place that it didn't make sense. And, strange as it was, the hours took a while to pass. At least until he remembered why he traveled so far from home. He turned on his laptop and tried to connect to the Internet, but without success. The hotel Wi-Fi didn't help him one bit, it only frustrated him further. Nevertheless, he managed to type a few more lines of his text.

The history of Latin America is quite familiar. Pretty much all of them have had military periods and independences from the colonizers. But here the situation is a little different. And you won't find anything like it anywhere else. Venezuela is a particular case, one of a kind. With a start, a middle and, apparently, no end.

If I tell you the socioeconomic numbers of the country, you won't believe me. Today, Venezuela has the highest inflation on the planet. In 2013, it reached 68%, the highest in the country's history. But in a bizarre fashion, it got worse. The following year, it rose to 180% and in 2018, 1,370,000%, according to the International Monetary Fund. About 20% of the population left the country. The economy contracted by nearly 48% in just five years. In 2018, unemployment reached 18%, according to outdated government records. Officially, the number is estimated to be between 44 and 50 percent. In the medical field, the situation is also desperate, with a lack of basic supplies such as gauze, medicines (anti-inflammatory, tranquilizers, antiallergic, among others), and tools such as scalpels, syringes, hypodermic needles, catheters, among others. The lack of food is also another important detail in the notorious Venezuelan crisis. Due to Maduro's policy of keeping prices under control and withholding import dollars, the most basic items such as milk, various types of meat, chicken, coffee, rice, oil, flour, butter; and also products such as toilet paper, personal hygiene products, and medicine are the first to go missing in the supermarkets. A roll of toilet paper costs an unbelievable 2.6 million Venezuelan bolivars, which is no more than 1 US dollar.

But it was not always like this.

In the 1950s, Venezuela was the fourth richest country per capita on the planet. Richer than countries like Canada and Japan. Already in the 1980s, Venezuela remained the richest country in Latin America, ahead of Brazil, Chile, Uruguay and Argentina. There were more Michelin restaurants in Caracas than in NYC. Bill Clinton even visited the country in 1997.

As soon as he finished the last paragraph, the lights in the room simply went out without any warning. At first, John thought it was merely a problem with the wires, but in fact the situation couldn't be more serious. Because in addition to the apportionment of water, electricity was another serious problem in the country. John opened the door and realized that the hallway was in total darkness.

- Oh, not a chance. - he said, shaking his head.

Reading a book even in the darkness of her room, Bia was surprised by knocks on the door. Maybe it was the maid with some other bad news, or maybe it was something else. Upon hearing the noise, she interrupted her reading and got out of bed to answer whoever it was.

- John? - Bia asked, confused.

- Can I sleep here? - He asked.

- Did something happen?

- No, but if I tell you I'll feel like an idiot.

- Is that even possible?

John began to laugh.

- Sure, come in. - she said, but then she noticed something curious. - What's that smell?

Uh-oh. Not good.

- What smell? I don't smell a thing. - John tried to cover it up, but that girl had the sense of smell of a feline.

- Did you take a shower, John?

- No, I didn't.

- My God, John, we've been on a trip for almost half a day! Why didn't you tell me?

- Oh, I didn't want to deny you your bath. I figured if I had told you, you would have told me to take a shower instead.

- Oh my God, John!

- I know, I know.

But there was still one important question missing.

- Why did you really come?

- Well, the whole hotel is without power.

- Yeah?

- I've never told anyone this, but I'm afraid of the dark.

That would really be the night of revelations.

- Get out! Really? - Bia thought it was a joke.

- Since I was a child. I have no siblings and hardly saw my father at home. So, I always had this thing about being alone and the dark scared me. And it still does.

- Well, if you want some company, that's fine. But don't even think about lying in bed in those sweaty clothes!

- I'll stay here on the floor.

But it wouldn't take long for John to regret that decision, because not only was it very cold, but the dust impregnated in the wood began to clog his nose. Soon, he began to sneeze like an old vacuum cleaner. Well, sort of. Anyway, everything indicated that it was going to be a long, long night.

- Are you there, John? - asked Bia.

- Yes, I am. - John confirmed.

- Just checking to make sure the monster in the closet hasn't kidnapped you.

- Ha, ha. Very funny.

- All right, it was a cheap shot. But I promise I won't tell. If you promise not to tell about me and your father.

- Nobody there knows?

- No.

That answer surprised him.

- How interesting.

- All right, all right. Now go to sleep!

- Just quit gabbing!

The next day, more trouble. The water returns, which is good for John, but the breakfast... Another piece of bad news. To make the situation even worse, the receptionist warned of food shortages at nearby supermarkets. In other words, John and Bia would meet Gomez with an empty stomach, but with a fresh look. At least.

- Solo is at the hotel lobby. - said Bia.

- Great. This is teriffic.

Bia started giggling. At first John didn't understand why she was laughing, but then he realized.

- I take the words back.

When they met again, Solo greeted them like a distant amigo would do. The funniest thing was that Solo seemed genuinely happy to welcome them in his car once again.

- Excited? - he asked.

- Sort of. - Bia replied. - It's been a long night.

- I can imagine. - Solo stared at John, winked his right eye and smiled.

- No, no. It's not what you think. It's not what you think. - John quickly tried to quell the gossip.

The duo was lucky. The twenty minute drive turned into a six minute traffic-free journey. Solo stopped the taxi in the parking lot and showed them the meeting place. John was the first to identify himself at the door of the university. Gomez was waiting for them in one of the classrooms. He wore a crumpled red button-down blouse, dirty, worn-out shoes, and a red hair clip. Unconcerned about appearances, John grabbed a chair for Bia, who began to install the sound devices in her clothes. The process was very quick; Bia knew what she was doing.

- What can you say about Venezuela before Chavez and Maduro? - John asked his professor.

- It was a reality of its own. At that time Venezuela was a host country for immigrants from Europe and Latin America rather than the opposite. It was far from flawless, it had its moments of turmoil and economic unbalance, but nowhere near this chaos. At that time, the future looked bright.

- And what happened?

- Chávez wrecked the oil industry, agro, nearly any food production company, and, because the oil prices were too high at the time, he imported everything and kept fictionally controlled prices for basic stuff. When the oil bubble blew, there was no money left to maintain the corruption and the fictitious prices.

- So oil prices have influenced the economy in Venezuela?

Gomez shook his head.

- A healthy country will not collapse with low oil prices. In the 2000s the prices were ten times higher than normal, and the government took all this money instead of protecting the economy.

- How could you explain it better?

- The single biggest industry in Venezuela is the oil industry, and oil had a sky-high price at that time. So he attacked the state oil company for money. He then used this money to fund social programs, particularly housing for the poor, which made him popular. But eventually the price of oil was back to normal and the amount of money he was taking from the state oil company to fund social programs was bankrupting him. Yet he required those so-called programs because they made him popular with the electorate. So he did what every socialist dictator does: nationalize the foreign companies. There were many foreign oil companies that were operating in the country and paying taxes. But he made the old "this belongs to the people" and nationalized their holdings (effectively by stealing them). This provided the government with a large influx of money that allowed the government to continue funding its social programs. But clearly all that money they were getting was pushing this enlarged state oil company into the ground. Once the outside money ran out, it went after local businesses, particularly those of his political opponents. TV stations, newspapers, electronics stores, grocery stores, etc., many of which were all being nationalized and put into the hands of his corrupt friends. They then sucked all the money out of these businesses so that they could continue to buy votes with social programs.

- Was this before or after Maduro?

- Before. The dictator dies in 2013, but not before passing control to one of his friends. But things are not going so well any longer. All these companies, from the big state oil company to the small local companies, are dead or dying. And since they have nationalized foreign assets, no foreign country is keen to invest. Even Russia and China, who like him for his anti-America rhetoric, refuse to invest or lend him funds. He has run into the most socialistic of problems: running out of other people's money. At this point, there are really only two possible outcomes: reduce government spending which will anger his supporters. Or simply print money to fund the government. Naturally, he chooses the latter option. Which of course causes inflation to skyrocket. These soaring prices make it impossible for the poor and middle class to pay for everyday necessities. So he introduced price controls, forcing companies to sell goods well below what they are really worth. Effectively destroying what little was left of the private sector economy. This brings us to the current situation. The government is bankrupt. The private sector is in ruins. No foreign country or company will invest or lend money to any of them. And inflation has rendered the currency worthless. The only thing left is rationing and Soviet-style loaf lines. The funny thing is that economists have been foreseeing the collapse of Venezuela for over a decade. Every stupid move by this government has a historical analog that ended in disaster. From nationalizing industry to printing money, it has all been done before and always fails.

- It is curious that oil, which was supposed to be the lifeline of the country, ended up creating its downfall.

- It wasn't exactly oil. Oil is our only main income. Chavez made a huge profit with this product and promised much more than he could deliver, without taking into consideration an eventual decrease in prices. By the time the fall came, corruption had done much harm, the country's cash reserves were low, inflation appeared, there was not much income for the country to support its spending.

Waiting there for John to finish the interview with Gomez, Bia came across a black man with a Venezuelan flag on his shoulders. She found it curious. Well, what did she have to lose? Bia therefore approached the man and asked:

- Hello, sir. Why do you have the flag on your shoulders?

- Because I love my country more than anything and this is our independence month. And also thanks to the sons of bitches who made the population miserable. I can't say it out loud, but fuck Venezuelan politics, fuck Hugo Chavez and his clan. We celebrated when he died.

After that report, Bia got excited. What does she do? She took a piece of paper from one of the art rooms, wrote some words on it, and stuck them on one of the benches. And waited. Her simple poster asked for opinions about the economy and the country. Nothing too complex. Gradually, the students came together to write their theses. It was beautiful. Bia stepped back so as not to get in the way or cause a ruckus. And then a student approached the young journalist and wanted to give his opinion in secret. Interestingly, what he said was a little different from most.

- The United States is responsible! They introduced a seizure in the country that restricted access to the most basic products for the population.

At the end of that long and exhausting day, John would ask only for a Finnish sauna and a cigar. Would that be too much to ask? Well, yes. Sadly, for him, John would have none of his wishes. But at least the hotel guaranteed electricity and water for the rest of the night.

I interviewed Professor Gomez Lopez, from the University of Caracas. Gomez gave his view of the historical situation in Venezuela. I was surprised by what he said and all the information he shared. Despite the economic chaos, the university and the capital are well preserved. Of course, we are not talking about Miami or Tokyo. But it is not so bad.

The next day, Solo took them to the last pit stop. The winding gravel path through the park practically destroyed John's back - the gravel finished the job that the hotel mattress started. Even though he knew his wishes would not be readily granted, he asked one last time. That the whole nightmare would be worth it. Oh, John had no idea what was about to come.

Initially, a local tribe welcomed them and led them in a small canoe down the river. But then another setback arose. The road to the famous waterfall was not exactly a smooth ride. It was more like the storm that sank the Titanic. Bia sat in the front, next to Solo, while John tried his best not to get seasick and embarrass himself in front of everyone. After three hours of rocking and practically a Dakar Rally under water, the indigenous man made the call that the boat trip was over, but that there was still a little way to go to the final destination.

- I feel like I'm going to put my gut out. - said John.

- Stop being foolish! - Bia felt no compassion for him.

Following an uphill trail that seemed to have no end, John felt cramps and thought about giving up. His legs ached a lot, and so did his feet. In a moment of frustration, John threw his shoes away. In a funny way, his feet felt more comfortable after he did that.

- Don't stop! Keep going! Keep going! - Solo tried to provide moral support.

- I'd just like a cigar and a drink! - John complained in vain.

And so, after hours, the group made it to the banks of the Salto Angel waterfall, the largest in the world. Only birds and the sound of the wind disturbed the silence. Oh, and of course, the thunderous sound of the water beating uninterruptedly against the rocks from a height of almost 1000 meters. The small private pool caused by the waterfall would be enough for a well deserved rest after all this. No bath, no water, no food, no light, it was no longer relevant. John took off his shirt and jumped into the icy water like a child at the beach or a dog in the pool - the opposite also fits. It felt like a dream, a very good dream. Bia did the same. She took off her blouse and didn't miss the opportunity to throw water on John. Watching the scene from a distance, the tribe leader and Solo were chatting in Spanish about the pair of outsiders.

- They boyfriend and girlfriend? - asked the tribe leader.

- They say no. - Solo replied.

And that was it. John and Bia thanked the tribe for their hospitality, who gifted them with necklaces and bracelets. A very good day that ended very well. Solo also received a gratuity. The return to Caracas was quiet and quite monotonous, considering the events of the day. Bia soon fell asleep and slept on John's shoulders. At one point, Solo caught a glimpse of them in the central rearview mirror. Immediately, he recalled what John had told him at the airport.

- Not boyfriend and girlfriend. I see... - he said, laughing alone.

On the last day before catching the flight back home, a very nice taxi driver we met on our first day in Caracas recommended a national park in Venezuela's countryside, the Canaima park, the second largest in the country and home to the indigenous Pemon people. It was not very easy to get there, several hours of driving. But it was very worthwhile. The place is magnificent. The natural areas of South America are very rich in fauna and flora. It is an ocean of diversity. But Solo, our taxi driver, said that I would still be astonished again.

He introduced me to the largest uninterrupted waterfall on the planet, Angel Falls, almost one kilometer in height. The name means "waterfall of the deepest place". You can see its waters from kilometers around. This is where the reboot of Point Break was shot in 2015. From what I read on the internet, it was a logistical nightmare to shoot the scenes. And, just like me, the actors went crazy with the landscape and the natural diversity. It is something fantastic, words fail to describe it. In fact, I only learned afterwards that it was our - practically - private driver Solo's first time in the park. He had always heard stories about the park and the waterfall, which is a tourist landmark in the country, but he had never had the chance to experience it. I have to say that he was more excited than I was. And it makes perfect sense. The whole park complex is beautiful and very well preserved. Fortunately.

After a day of running around the countryside, John and Bia finally said goodbye to Venezuela. Solo received a nice tip for all the services provided. And he promised that if John and Bia's relationship status changed for whatever ridiculous reason, he would go to their wedding, wherever it was. As a guarantee, he saved John's phone number for a rainy day. At precisely eight in the evening, the Air Caraïbes plane took off from Simón Bolívar Airport headed to the Dominican Republic. John watched the timid lights of the city's streetlamps get smaller and smaller from his window. As soon as the seat belt warning was turned off, John began to write the last part of the story, before falling asleep and only waking up at Las Américas Airport in Santo Domingo.

Returning home, in a fairly comfortable seat of a Boeing, I began to reflect on the trip and what I had learned. From the first day I stepped in South America, I was very excited about what I would encounter, but I couldn't tell exactly why. But as time went on it was clear. My partner and I talked to several people in the country. They all told a story. The story of a prosperous country that sank completely in a very quick fashion. But just as I saw misery, I found people who were charismatic and very, very cheerful. And not just that. I saw one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen. A park in the interior of one of the most economically problematic countries on the planet. It is a bit contradictory to find joy in misfortune. But South America is very much like that. And you know what, I really liked it. I wanted a story and I found it. What can I learn from it? Well...

A bad government can destroy countries.

- And so? What did you think? - John smiled as he showed the computer screen.

- You weren't shit, but you weren't great either. - Said his boss, Kevin - Like Tottenham.

- Oh, come on! It looks great!

Kevin didn't want to admit it. His pride wouldn't allow it. John promised a story, and he returned with a story.

- Good job, kid. I'll talk to Bia too.

- Hey, can I drive the company van? - John quickly changed the subject.

- No fucking way, you idiot!

- Oh, please! I'm going slow! Fast and Furious style! "I have family." - John did a Vin Diesel impersonation.

- Stop talking! Stop talking! - Kevin started to go insane. - I don't want to hear you!

- What about the bike?

- We don't have a bicycle.

- Then, I think I'll ask the owner of the station.

- I'm going to kill you, John! God damn it!