Caracas - and 4megapixels

I spent last week in Caracas. A couple of things surprised me. The exchange rate between the US dollar and the Venezuelan Bolívar is fixed by the Venezuelan government. It is about 2.15 Bolivars Fuerte (BF) to the $US. There is also an unofficial rate fixed by the laws of supply and demand. Recently the free market valued the US Dollar around 4.2 BF. Last week, the US Dollar had devalued to 3.8 BF. I was told that the reason for the drop was a demand for bolivars. The Venezuelan tax year ended on March 31 and so people needed bolivars to pay their taxes. Businesses sold US dollars for bolivars. Lots of people selling US Dollars decreased the value of the dollar. I could not help wondering if our government observed this example of free market action. Maybe the fact that the US dollar even lost value against the Bolívar made an impression on some in the White House. One day, our suppliers are going to price and sell crude oil for Euros instead of US Dollars. When that time comes foreigners will not need so many dollars. I do not like to think about how supply and demand will price our currency when there is no artificial demand for it.

My other surprise related to my expectations of crime and safety. My hotel was close to Parc Del Este. This public park is home to Venezuelan birds, trees, flowers and small animals. On Thursday morning I was awake before 6 am so I decided to wander through the park with the old Olympus camera (the Pentax is off for repair!) I left the hotel under a grey sky after dawn and walked to the park. I admit I took some safety precautions. I left my money, credit cards and valuables in the room safe. All I carried were some business cards for identification and about $40 to hand over to any mugger who stopped me. Five minutes later I was in the park. The park was alive. Hordes of early morning joggers almost ran me over. Little old ladies chatting together ignored the nervous gringo with the camera. A guy practicing kendo was in another world. Parc Del Este was probably safer than Memorial Park in Houston. [It may be different at other times of the day!]

But not everything was peaceful. The park is the overnight roosting place for flocks of parrots. The morning peace was continually broken by loud raucous shouts from different groups of green parrots. They reminded me of old couples bickering about whose turn it was to make breakfast. They also made me think of the senseless bickering that goes on between the leaders of some nations I care about. But that is unkind. The parrots appeared to be communicating. I can’t say the same for the politicians.