A Dystopian Reality

My Reality

I watch the city through the bus window, on my way to class, taking in the familiar landscape I think about how much I love Caracas, but at the same time, how nowadays it was getting a little harder to see the beauty behind the lack of maintenance.

The sings of abandonment and poverty were growing, covering every corner of the city, spreading like some dark curse.

Not to mention the hit of nausea every time a propaganda with "the president's" ugly face came to view.

I closed my eyes trying to ignore it and enjoy the ride, it's 6,30 in the morning after all.

The bus comes to a sudden stop, and I open my eyes to look around for any sign of what could be happening.

The air coming through the window was now mixed with the smell of burned plastic and the sound of people chanting some slogan could be heard.

A protest...they were very common lately, usually more than one in a day in different places of the city all of them with similar motives; lack of food, lack of water, lack of energy...etc

One of their favorite moves was to block main roads in orden to make sure they would appear on the news, of course ruining other people schedule in the process.

Dont get me wrong, I love the fact people still have it in them to fight the monsters that destroyed our nation.

In fact, very often I find myself feeling guilty for not participating, for ignoring all of it as much as I can, for being a coward and try keep studying as if everything was "OK".

But today I'm mostly worried on getting on time to class... It's my last semester, I have to graduate, I really have to.

Otherwise I'll have to stay longer in vzla and the past 2 and half years of hardships and mental breakdowns would be for nothing.

Fashion design wasn't my first career choice. My dream was actually to be an architect but by the time I finished high school I got wait listed so I decided to study abroad for a year.

Living in Italy was amazing, which is why coming back home to see how much the government had destroyed the country felt so harsh.

I found out that I got in later on but obviously nothing could be normal, so during that year I had to start attending, lessons got suspended for "public disturbances" 90% of the time.

In order to move on with my life, me and my parents chose a private school, as they were obligated by the government to keep operating

At the beginning, I liked the idea of ​​working in fashion...creating something, I loved how fashion is one of the arts that's closest to us.

But at this point, I kind of hate it...In the very few working experiences I've had I was able to see the ugly and not so artistic truth behind the beautiful dresses.

I feel way too ashamed to admit it out loud, especially to my parents but I'm sure that deep down they know it.

Not disappointing them and the hopes for a better life after collage is what keeps me motivated. 

The engine comes alive and I let out a sigh of relief, (the bus breaking down wouldn't be a surprise neither) we start slowly moving and the remaining of the ride goes without events.

Two hours...that's how long it takes to get to class in a good day.

Consisting of a ride on the metro and two different busses.

120 minutes for my brain to torture me with doubts about the future as my time as a student comes to an end.

Lately it has been getting worse though...It's different...usually my existential crisis were those of a regular early 20s girl, like how much it sucks to be a millenial and job prospects, but now things were getting increasingly darker and bordering on severe anxiety. It was too hard to understand the changes that take place in the country and those that people around me were suffering because of it.

Everyone's life could be summed up in a single concept: adapting to chaos.

Living under this dictatorship meant: surviving with a 25 dollars salary (well, that was the proportion with our currency), hours of waiting in line outside the doors of the mostly empty supermarket to buy the little food available and of course, only the permitted amount and the day you were assigned, same for medicine, and the increasing prices of the bills we had to pay just to spend hours or days without electricity or running water.

Not to mention the lack of personal hygiene products.

I think my hair suffers PTSD when remembering it.

Yes, it sounds extreme but it was about moving on, right? keeping moving forward.

when I think about it now it feels even worse, but I have to admit that I didn't feel the entire weight of the situation at the time.

Somehow I found a balance between a normal life and the extreme living conditions in Caracas.

well, extream conditions became my "normal life" is more accurate

But despite everything, I wanted to graduate.

Finally getting to my stop I get off the first bus to catch the final ride to get to school.

A tiny and decrepit little bus packed with fashion students, nursing students, the only other faculty on this side of the city, and elder people.

I'm already dreading what the teacher will have to say about my designs for my final project.

If I get Mrs. N to approve everything, in just a couple of months this will be over.

I need it to be over, I'll find myself a decent job until I manage to move to out of the country which seems to be the only way evade the situation...Scape is more like it but I like to be optimistic... Or maybe stupid.

But I don't care, graduation is the first step and no matter how bad things looked before I kept going, so the final project will be no exception.

Even I don't know how it was possible that I still hadn't suffered a mental crisis in a 2007 Britney style.

Making life decisions or taking the politics seriously is difficult when the president is a madman who confuses the word "panes" (bread) with "penes"(penises).

(yes, no joke, that really happened, Google it 🙄)

A madman who shouldn't be there he ended up there, but instead of ruling the nation or even just keep things working, leads the country to destruction.

But I am close, and honestly I'm proud of myself, cuz traveling sleeping 4 hours for almost three years, traveling to the ends of the city to find materials for the dresses, overcoming stress gastritis for which obviously there were no medicines and of course, surviving the Caracas metro which is a lot... I feel like I can do anything !

Obviously with the help of my parents, friends and all.

I learned new things as an illustrator, about design and work ethic.

I got to know my city better and so I dicovered several of my favorite places in the world such as the park benches of the Miranda park. Around 6 pm, the macaws that live in the city, create a beautiful show of colors in the orange sky while they return to the park for the night.

I had more time to share with my family because I missed them so much during the exchange.

I learned a lot about politics (surely more than I would have liked) because I wanted to understand what was happening in the country.

Finally, I learned a little more about myself.

But apparently, before graduation, life had to teach me something alse.