First of all, a Happy New Year to all my readers from the land of risotto and pasta. Hope you have received the new year with joy. It is here, had fun with her hubby, a bottle of black label under his belt (my hubby had almost an entire bottle of Baily), resulting in an inability to receive the new year in the square, but in my house, slightly paloteado.
But let these details and enter a little on the subject of this post from mid-light January. For this talk about this strange species that is the Venezuelan tourist, but not from the point of the tourist, no, but from the local perspective that has to suffer. Ie me.
One thing you notice about the Venezuelans that come as a tourist (not immigrant) is taken for granted that because they come from your land you are willing to guide them or that you are nice because. Gentlemen (and ladies), Then move. The fact that come from Venezuela, including Caracas, my boys do not automatically: I am an outsider and as such should be treated with respect at least not with a "that's my buddy!, Tell me where I can get some ass. "Ahem. I'm not being completely honest, I really the person to whom I attribute those words spoke to me saying," buddy, where are the clubs which are the models? ". At that time what caused me answer was "and I do not know!". The fact is that people are not fixed in detail, as coming from the train station, full of things and that was, just then, talking to my wife to remind I should go home early. Of course, the friend took the opportunity to ask, but I say I would not have been easier to say "sorry buddy, are you in Venezuela?" with a friendly tone, not as if I had a duty give a moral hand, and from there build a conversation. Such behavior confianzudo
makes you upset. Another example: leaving the subway, my wife and I were discussing just silly, and as he said some "pussy" so angry, comes a guy yelling "Stop!", That is Venezuela! "Before such a thing, my wife and I we turn scared, not knowing how to react to such a crazy, who was with three other people. After telling them I'm from Caracas and Maracay my wife, the third asks me "What did you like Milan?" Anything you said yes, then we suggest a couple of places to see and escape (well, walk quickly) in the opposite direction to where they were. My wife, who knows me very well, asked me if I had bothered. "Obviously," he said, is very difficult to target strangers with a minimum of education?. And then I wonder why I bring him wrong directions to tourists!.
Of course, there are always exceptions, such that when you get off the tram, they approach you and ask you kindly if you're from Venezuela, and you can file a civil conversation. Maybe one does not get to see more, but hell, do not lie to the gentile mother.
In closing, I leave some suggestions to fellow tourists on how to deal with those who are abroad: Be polite
- : things are requested to please. I'm not your buddy, do not treat me as such. I am a stranger. Minimum education is all you need to use.
- confianzudo not be. Leave it when you go to deal with the Venezuelan bureaucracy, I'm not "Miamor" yours. Not really interested in why I'm here, not to me why you're here. We're just stories to tell our families or our respective blogs.
- I am a stranger. Remember that I do not know, do not know who I am or why I'm here. The fact that speaks with the same accent, no make me your brother's soul. Treat me kindly, and I'll do the same.
- not all live to go to nightclubs and hot spots. We can tell you where they may be, but not necessarily go there. Most of us are not VIP, but ordinary mortals. Some even did not stop to this mess.
Of course, one must also be patient and understand that there are people who get excited when you hear someone on the subway in Milan, on the train to Paris or in front of the bronze Reggio Calabria, speaking with Venezuelan accent. It's that patience that one must have on hand when it comes the temptation to wrong address, when you scream, as if you were a friend of life and not give you the thanks after having helped.
banalities, tourism , frustration
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