I thought I was over anything related to my country of origin, Venezuela. After living there for 18 years, I was weary and overcome with feelings of disappointment, despair and pessimism.
Even though I still feel strongly attached to my origins and I only wish the best for Venezuela, constantly thinking of my country began to take an emotional toll on me. After all, how can I possibly be happy when my home country is slowly being consumed by the flames of a failed ideology?
Although I do engage in some “mental gymnastics” in an attempt to train my brain into forgetting, Venezuela just keeps popping up. Recently, it was Mr Trump who, in the middle of an audacious speech in front of the MUN, named his three main adversaries: Iran, North Korea and Venezuela.
I was baffled, that being an understatement. Now, in the arena of political discourse, a parallel was being drawn between the notorious ¨Rocket Man¨ and Venezuela. My country is now on a par with North Korea in terms of political authoritarianism and the wellbeing of its population.
Unfortunately, after spending this summer at home, I have no other choice but to accept these claims and parallels. It is true that food is so scarce in Venezuela that I felt ashamed to eat in front of people. It is true that the country is so insecure that having a bulletproof car is actually recommended. It is true that medicine is so scarce that I had to visit 5 different drugstores just to find a simple painkiller. And that list can be expanded into more absolute truths about my country.
I stand here perplexed, thinking about what used to be considered the best country in South America. My parents definitely remember those times and they eagerly recall “Venezuela being a role model for South American nations”. Now, it just feels like a distant dream.
Here I stand, still patiently waiting to experience the rebirth of the utopian country my parents so vividly remember.
Pietro Vigilanza (20) from Venezuela lives in Rotterdam since two years and studies IBCoM