The University

La Universidad Simon Bolivar (USB), founded in 1970, is a state school that is world renowned for its excellent science and engineering programs. I don’t think there are even any humanity programs at the undergraduate level. However, the graduate program in political science is well respected and supposedly quite good. Many Venezuelan politicians have passed through the program, including Hugo Chavez, who began a Masters in Political Science at USB in 1990 but never finished after being imprisoned for leading an abortive coup in 1992.

USB has a gorgeous green campus with plenty of open, inviting grassy spaces on which to sprawl out after a three hour discussion on participatory democracy or the particulars of the Bolivarian Revolution. Plenty of palm trees give the campus a tropical, relaxed feel, not exactly conducive to a rigorous study schedule. Out of the 12,424 students enrolled in the university, 9,524 are undergraduate students and 2,810 are graduate students. I’ve noticed that the government takes care of the students fairly well here. For one, food is subsidised. I pay a whooping 15 cents for a lunch consisting of soup, salad, a main dish, fruit, bread, and juice. Although extremely inefficient, transportation to and from the university is free. The down side is that I have to wait 30 minutes plus at the bus stop inhaling low emission standard exhaust from an endless line of bumper to bumper traffic. More often than not a sympathetic fellow student offers me a lift. Other times I walk and arrive before the bus does. Finally, the undergraduate students don’t pay tuition. Besides a $15 or so registration fee, university is free. What a bizarre but attractive concept.

I am enrolled in two graduate political science classes: Understanding the Bolivarian Revolution, a doctoral level class opened to masters students and Democracy, Society, and Citizen Participation in Venezuela: Student Movements, an undergraduate opened to masters students and supplemented with additional reading material and research projects. So far the classes aren’t as rigorous as I imagine graduate school in the US would be. The biggest challenge so far hasn’t been the quantity of reading but the fact that the reading is in Spanish, which will undoubtedly become easier as the year goes on.

Politically, USB identifies as an anti-government school. This is partly because the majority of students are middle to upper class and in Venezuela class and political affiliation are closely connected. However, it also probably has to do with the fact that Chavez has lost much of the initial support he enjoyed from the autonomous intellectual community. They say it's difficult to find an intellectual that supports Chavez, outside of the Bolivarian Universities. My professors seem to strive toward objectivity in the classroom, but everyone has their opinion and even they acknowledge that their biases will inevitably seep through any attempt at disinterested discourse.

But while the USB community is largely opposed to Chavez it should not automatically be associated with the “opposition,” that is, the opposition media and political parties. Although tempting at times, I am trying to avoid placing people into simplified political categories of either Chavista or Opposition. While it’s true that extreme political polarization exists here there’s also a political spectrum that tends to be overlooked. The student movement, for example, has proven to be less radical and more rational than the opposition media. The other day I met a student at USB who voted for one block of the constitutional reform and against the other (the reform was presented in two separate blocks). While perhaps rare, there are people here who recognize both the negative and the positive of the Chavez government.

Living Situation

I live in a gated community called El Placer (The Pleasure), about an hour outside the center of Caracas and five minutes from the university. It’s an upper middle to upper class neighbourhood, perched on the side of the mountain boasting breathtaking views of El Avila and the city. Palm trees line the quite, deserted streets.

I share a spacious, comfortable independent annex with three other international students who attend La Universidad Simon Bolivar. Kamil is a Polish-Canadian undergraduate chemical engineering majors from Ottawa, Stephanie is a 4th year undergraduate Urban Studies major from New Mexico, and Juliana is a Panamanian doing an intensive month long professional internship. We are renting the annex from a warm, welcoming Venezuelan family. The mother, Yolanda, acts more like our host mom than a landlord. She takes us grocery shopping, occasionally makes us coffee and arepas for breakfast, and worries when we’re not home before dark. We enjoy cable, a fickle wireless internet connection, a stove with one functioning burner, irregular hot showers, and a washing machine.

First Week In Caracas

Since yesterday marked my first month in Venezuela, it seems like an update is long overdue. In an attempt to break up this entry some I’ll write and post my following ruminations by theme (e.g. university, politics, culture, travel, etc...).

I spent my first week in Caracas a few blocks off la Plaza Altamira in a clean, white-washed, sunny hotel room with bamboo furniture. Altamira is located in the Eastern part of city and is one of the few zones where I feel comfortable walking the streets alone at night. So while the price was a bit steeper than what I’m used to paying for Latin American hotels, it was a safe place to start out my stay.

I happened to find myself in Caracas during the New Year break and a week before I could move into my house due to a stroke of miscommunication. The first acceptance letter that the political science department sent me back in November stated that classes would start on January 7th. So, wanting to have a least a week in the country before I hit the books I though it would be a good idea to arrive on the first. It turns out classes didn’t start until the 14th and I couldn’t get into my house until the 8th. I decided to use this idle time to learn about the new city and country, which for the next year I will call home. Each day I set off on a new mini-adventure. A stroll through an 82 hector former hacienda, turned recreational park, complete with duck ponds, baseball fields, botanical gardens, and even places where it’s possible to escape the din of traffic and hear the leaves rustle. A jaunt to the city zoo, where monkeys range free and will snatch the hat right off your head if you’re not careful. A visit to a gigantic five story mall, supposedly the largest in South America, where I lost myself in the sea of shoe stores. A walk along cobble stone streets lined with quaint cafes and vendors selling traditional Venezuelan food in the more authentic Sabana Grande. I discovered that when you seek out authenticity you should expect both the good and the bad. It was in Sabana Grande that I had my first encounter with authentic Venezuelan police. As I was walking along two young male officers stopped me, asked to see my passport, search my things, patted me down thoroughly and then proceeded to give me advice on how to “hook up” with Venezuelan women during my visit in their country. Their treatment of me seemed superfluous, especially considering the high crime levels in Caracas.

When I wasn’t out exploring I holed up in my room or found a bench in the nearby Plaza Altamira and read. Venezuela Politics in the Chavez Era, Changing Venezuela by Taking Power, and Cowboy in Caracas are all very informative books about the political situation here.