Talking About Plan B
Today I wanted to share a few testimonies that sound a little strange when the subject of Plan B comes up.
The first was the farewell we gave my Chilean friend (the one who came from Africa saying she was arriving in a worse country, and fell in love with Venezuela a few months later). She was full of gratitude and cried because she did not want to leave. Her husband said: “We have lived in dozens of cities (some of them in the developed world) and it has never been so hard to get her to leave. I am dragging her away, along with my daughters, who don’t want to go either.”
That same week, many of us saw on television the group of students from the Universidad Católica Andrés Bello who said: “If we had to choose a country to live in, we would choose Venezuela again.”
And here they are, fighting for their homeland!
We have also met outstanding Venezuelan doctors in every specialty (pediatricians, orthopedists, cardiologists, dermatologists, oncologists, eye doctors and more, not to mention our excellent dentists) who could leave but keep working, not only in their private practices but in public and private hospitals and teaching at universities, and who say they are staying right here! They are so good that some patients come from abroad to see them. People usually talk about those who leave, not about those who stay. A few days ago I received an email from a Venezuelan woman (whom I met through this column) who lives in London with her husband and two children. She came to spend Christmas in Caracas after several years away, and she told me she found a wonderful Venezuela (with all its problems), with many young people and adults who have matured, with a Church that has grown stronger and more committed to those most in need, with people full of joy and hope.
Here is part of what she wrote a few days after getting back to London: “We’re settled in the UK again (well, almost…)… at Maiquetía airport we ate our last arepa with white cheese… When we arrived the cold was terrible… I can’t believe the temperature dropped ten degrees that very day; everyone says we brought the cold with us!!! But what cold, when we were at 25 degrees Celsius!!! Boo-hoo. Now we’re bundled up like mummies again. It amazes me how quickly and easily we adapted to Caracas and how hard it is to get back into the routine here… I’m struck by the serious, always guarded expressions of people on the street, at the supermarket, at church, so different from tropical warmth. We miss EVERYTHING, from waking up in the morning to the rooster crowing… to cool evenings telling stories and chatting with the family and friends,… driving without worrying that I’m going to get a ticket, feeling that you’re in the land of the possible, where solidarity overflows and everyone is ready to help whoever needs it. Thank you so much for spoiling us so! All we can do is hold on for now and think about the day we return to the Venezuela we miss so much.”
She says that as soon as her husband finishes his graduate program, they are coming straight back. What can I tell you? That I cried at my Chilean friend’s farewell. That I was deeply moved when I saw and heard those young students say what they said in public; and that I am moved every time I see them (and all those young politicians who could leave) working so hard to improve this country.
That I get goosebumps every time a doctor or another professional (especially a teacher) who could leave tells me they are staying here, come what may. That I don’t understand why, last year, when I went away to rest for ten days in a “first-world” city, I couldn’t wait to get back to Caracas and continue the fight. Let a psychologist explain it to me, because I just don’t understand!
But what is it, my God, that this country has? What is it that makes me, every time someone asks whether I have a Plan B, answer (like so many others): My only plan is Plan V, because its name is Venezuela!