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Merida, Venezuela
After filling out extensive paperwork and receiving the medical records required to obtain a student visa for Venezuela - chest x-rays, yellow fever shots, typhoid medication, Hennepin county police record, I was finally ready to organize my giant backpack and leave for Miami. I said goodbye to my family, and set off to the airport to fly to our stop, Miami.
We spent two nights in Miami exploring South Beach, getting dirty looks in Little Havana, and basically preparing for South America. Nothing note-worthy really occurred until we arrived in Caracas, where both of our backpacks were lost. I used my terrible Spanish skills to explain to our airline that both of bags have been lost. After reporting this with my terrible Spanish, we began our 20 hour adventure in the Caracas airport, trying to pass out on the grimy floor of the luggage area. As it was freezing and disgusting, we decided to move through the security area (with no one there, so we never even had claim anything) and sit in a warmer area, only to be kicked out by a mindless cop. We then had to sit in the area we thought was marked for domestic flights (an even smaller, colder spot) and tried to sleep on metal chairs. This is when we began to realize that it probably would have been worth $20/person or so to get a hotel for the night.
With the little sleep we received, we kept an eye out for our group, beginning to realize that we need a legitimate ticket instead of a print out, especially because we couldn't seem to spot any gringos yet. Eventually I see some blondes and start to relax as we figure out our ticket situation, since we couldn't seem to on our own. I even dared to exchange USD for BsF with a random store owner, since I hadn't exchanged at all beforehand. This is where I got my first dose of Venezuelan women: dressed in jeans that appear to be painted on, perfectly manicured hair and make-up, and of course, stilettos. I really can't get over this, as I dress like a complete slob at airports (and all the time, compared to these women).
Finally we board to plane to EL Vigía, about a 1.5 hr plane ride. It looks very mystical through the mountains and clouds, and my excitement builds as we land. Since there currently isn't a functioning airport, all the students board the bus to drive to Mérida. I'm getting anxious as we pass through small towns and watch the line ups at gas stations, people grilling food on small stands in the street, and groups of kids running around in the dark. We arrive in front of our school, VENUSA, with our host families waiting. I meet my roommate as we wait for our host parents to arrive, and take a cab to the apartment we'll be living in for 3 months. It's a little awkward at first as they aren't the most talkative bunch, but once we make our way to the apartment and see our new place, there's plenty to discuss. My host dad explains how rude it is to slam doors in Venezuela, where they keep purified water, and other boring details. I'm beginning to realize that my roommate is a little off when she shows me that she brought her flute and literally 10 cans of bug spray. I try not to worry about it as I'm excited to finally relax, even as the loud traffic and music persists outside my window. I put in my earbuds and doze off.
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