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Caracas of my sorrows

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Recently I was writing a story about my second home city: Krakow. It had to be 'A place I'll never forget' story and, of course, there are so many places that mean a lot to me but I felt I owned it to that city that gave me so much. The thing is that there was a second topic I could talk about: 'Out of my comfort zone' and I started to think about the trip I did one year ago: first time in Europe, not speaking the language, not money, no family or friends in a strange place... and even with all that, I didn't feel so misplaced as I do everyday in Caracas, my homecity.

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Because Caracas is not place for everybody. Caracas is that lady that wakes up everyday at 5 AM and makes breakfast and luch for the whole family and in the evening came back and makes dinner, iron the clothes, do the homeworks with the kids and get ready for the next day. Caracas is all those men in motorcycles that go around you like flies, not caring about getting in the middle of a highway. And Caracas is that ten years old boy that is already a man that takes care of his siblings. Caracas is the teenager boy that knocks on your car's window and asks you for your phone with one hand while in the other he holds a gun.

Caracas is the men that get on the bus and take straight away all your money but, dont worry, they are kind enough to let you keep some money so you can pay the ticket. People that steal everything you have but let you keep your wedding band because they know it is a sentimental thing, even if it is worthier than everything they took. Caracas is also the ladies that gather around you in the subway trying to help you fix your broken heel. And the street seller that gives you a chocolate for no reason.. maybe he liked you or he just thought you needed it. Caracas is a city surrounded by hills, so is not that easy to go from one place to another just walking, you gotta be in a pretty good shape.Caracas is 27 degrees the whole year. The best weather in the world, believe me.

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My relationship with my city is complicated. I love it so much and I hate it the same. Caracas sometimes makes me wanna leave this place, makes me wanna take my family out of here. I dont feel safe in Caracas, that is true... but how do I give up on this city if everyday the Avila, our mountain, reminds me the glory of my land.

And I see all those kids in the streets and they make me wanna fix everything, or at least try. Everyday I am scared of getting on a bus, but when I do it, I am always amazed at the strenght of my people. I see them there, singing a song, answering their children's questions, coming back to their houses after a long day in which some crazy, desperate person could have stolen the little they have or worse... I am always amazed at our jokes, how we make fun of our sorrows.

So yeah.. I feel misplaced in my own city because I don't know if I am tough enough to live here. I don't know if I dream too much, if I care too much, or think too much... here you have to have your feet on the ground, ready to catch any hint of danger, of pain, of hope. But it was too complicated to explain it in 2500 characters so I say it here, where non of my people will ever read it. And they are the only ones who can fully understand. However, they don't need some girl to tell them how they feel: they also love and hate this city. They also feel this place in their veins, making them stronger, capable of dealing with anything, because they survive hell everyday.

Caracas is danger and beauty.


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