If you leave a country in a dictatorship, the dictatorship goes with you everywhere you go

in #life7 years ago (edited)

I wake up. It's 9:00 in the morning. Today marks two weeks without any luck in my job hunting, and I have things to do. Write some paperwork for college, send some CVs to see if I find something... but there's something that I need to do before that, the first thing I do every day: check social media. And it's not like "hey, let's see my friend's vacation photo", it's more like "let's hope the kids who got kidnapped by the police are free" or "let's find out if I have to add a new name to my 'dead in protests' list". The reason? I'm Venezuelan. Living in Chile, yes, but Venezuelan. It's not something that you can get rid off, specially when mom, dad, and many many friends are still there.

I leave my country two months ago exactly. I came to Chile to study and to see if I can improve my life in simple ways like walking down the street without feeling fear, buying food or toilet paper without it being a headache and not having to ask my parents for money, even though I'm a professional journalist and I worked two or three jobs a time back in Venezuela.

But it's not that easy. Here in Santiago, if I'm using my phone and hear a motorcycle I get scared automatically. In Venezuela it's almost sure that you were going to get robbed. If I see a police officer I get scared, because back in Venezuela they are robbing, killing, and kidnapping people. Just three years ago I was hit by four police officers because I was doing my job, taking pictures of them hitting a protester. I'm here now, but the young man the hit that time is still in jail.

Going to the supermarket it's not easy. Yes, I have money and yes I can find a lot of products, but you can't imagine how shocking it is to see a full supermarket after years of not finding anything. I spend several minutes just looking at cookies because I don't know how to pick. I coulnd't back home. And it's not because the lack of products only, sometimes mom and dad can find somethings but at a very very high price.

For example, today my mom said "I found Bimbo bread -yes, you can't find things like bread-. It costs Bs 7.000 a package". That's less than a dollar in the black market (the only why to find them) but 700$ at the official price. Yes, 700$ a package of bread. And more info: minimun wage its justs Bs 65.000. That means minimun wage can get you almos 10 packages of bread. Prety exciting!

The day goes by with me checking my phone over and over. Its a protest day and I need to know that my friends are ok, that the paramilitary group did not entered their homes, that they are not too affected by the tear gas bombs... it's not easy.

It's friday and you want to meet with some friends, but you can't: you don't have any. My best friend lives in México. My other best friend, in Spain. The other one in EEUU. The other one in Ecuador. My friends are all over the world. Missing people is the constant feeling in your life. You thank God FaceTime exits and go on with your live.

Your mind is in here, trying to find a job but it's not like a big part of the world sees finding a job. If you find a job you can send money to your parents, and that's the ultimate goal. You're tying to live, but it's not that simple. If you are the son of a dictatorship you have scars that will go with you for the rest of your life.

(I made this post because someone ask me to write about the current situation in Venezuela, but I can't without giving some context first. My next post will be about the protests that are taking place in the last 90 days)

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It's a moving story. Thanks for sharing.

Gran post. En serio. Espero que el éxito te acompañe en los próximos días. Un abrazo desde el oriente de tu Venezuela, mi Venezuela, nuestra Venezuela.

Gracias. Abrazos grandes de vuelta. Todo mejorará.

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