Love your posted description of life behind the Iron Curtain.
I was blessed with a Venezuelan friend who took me home to visit her family in the 90’s. I’d met several of her family members when they’d come to visit her in Texas. They always invited my daughter and I to visit. So we went, spent almost a month in pre-Communist Venezuela.
It was beautiful. A capitalist’s paradise. The people were open, gregarious and loved meeting Texans. The markets and stores were full to overflowing. Street vendors peddling treats thru residential areas, much like when I was a kid and we chased the ice cream truck. But they were many, with all kinds of portable goodies. Always smiles on the faces of people we met.
Our weeks there covered just past Thanksgiving till after New Years. We experienced pre-Christmas buying, driving to see a myriad of amazing Christmas lights, community worship servicea, buge Christmas and New Years parties and we were with middle class Venezualans.
The family knew I loved the outdoors so friends of the family invited us to their vacation cabin in Andean foothills. I got to wade in a river in the Andes, this made everyone laugh that my daughter and I had that wish. They said most Americans are fearful of the water there due to piranha stories. (Which aren’t native to those waters)
We went fishing one day. Caught fish I couldn’t identify but they knew which to keep and throw back. Had fresh fish with yucca root and seasoning, wrapped in big leaves they found cooked over a fire for supper. Laughter, music, dancing... beautiful.
We also went to a small farm my friend’s brother owned one day. Hunted rabbits. But we had a pig cooked in the ground for lunch. Best BBQ pork ever.
I kept in touch with the family via email until about 2003. Then there were no replies. Nothing. They weren’t wealthy, just middle class. But Communism happened. They stay in my prayers daily but I have known nothing else for 15 years.
I actually considered relocating to Venezuela after my visit. Venezuelan women were just becoming interested in participating in hiking, backpacking and fishing trips without men along. As Bagster would say #NoHomo. Just outdoor women activities. I was recently widowed, just shy of 40 and the offer was there from my friends to help me get started as a guide for ladies. I prayed about it and there was a big check in my spirit. God knew Chavez was on the way to power and I’m thankful I wasn’t there. All the more reason to defend my beloved Texas and USA.
Aha, You are a writer!!
And I so enjoyed reading about your travels and time in Venezuela. What. A sense of joy came through in what you wrote. I wanted to be there with you.
The second to last paragraph. Even though I know what happened there, reading what you wrote hit. My inward countenance fell. I share in your sadness and hope that you will be able to connect with those beloved friends once again.
Yes, God protected you and had other plans. May He provide you another opportunity to communicate with and learn of them...
ThankQ so much for sharing this story...
*cyberhugs* — Ok, I need to learn the hashtag thingie: #NoHomo. Or #FriendshipOnlyLuv. (What has happened to us that we need to use these now? Now I remember. Isn’t there a verse somewhere in the Bible that says in the last days ppl won’t have natural affection toward one another. I guess that means we will have cold hearts or don’t understand brotherly or sisterly love?? Etc. Seems the only thing we are permitted to love is food. Or, sports. Argh. Guess I’ll have to vote for ice cream.)
Aside from that, I love (yes, love) your article!!! *big smile*
/Mna
I like to hear about your Venezuela experiences. Some furlowed missionaries came to our area just before the change. They had trouble getting their belongings back. They said water had to be stored in large vats in their apartment because it a turned on on once a week for a section of town at a time. The very poor living in shacks sitting on hillside Barrios would sometimes climb electricity poles to hack in and steal power. Electrocution took some thiefs. But it sounded like a lovely country. A friend’s son married a Venezuelan woman. Her family were upper middle class but they were needing money from the US daughter in recent years.