One of the most memorable parts of my year as an exchange student in Venezuela is the independent traveling I did with some of the other exchange students. This type of travel is one of the major parts of any exchange experience and I was lucky enough to have laid back host parents that had no problem with me traveling all over the country. The following is an account of one of my trips.
It was the beginning of July and my exchange year in Venezuela was coming to an end. It was impossible for me to think that this incredible year I had spent, the best year of my life, would soon be over and replaced by the drudgery of everyday life. I was determined to go out with a bang, and plan one final excursion to a place in Venezuela that I had not yet visited, Morrocoy National Park. Morrocoy is a popular tourist destination that consists of many small "cayos," meaning keys. It can basically be described by one word: paradise. The three friends that I had planned this trip with were all from different countries. There was Jean Baptiste from Belgium, Oguz from Turkey, Oliver from Canada, and myself. We all met at around 9:00pm in the bus terminal of San Cristobal (our host city) and by 9:30 we were on the bus, on our way to the crystalline waters of the Caribbean. I always hated the longer bus rides in Venezuela. This particular one took a total of approximately 14 hours to reach our destination. The bus was freezing cold. I never could figure out why they always kept the busses so cold.
The minor discomforts aside, however, I remember sitting there and thinking, "wow I am completely free right now." Never before in my life had I felt this overwhelming euphoria of being totally independent. I was 18 years old, traveling across Venezuela on a bus with good friends, and I had no idea where I was going to sleep when the sun went down. This might not have appealed to some people, but for me it was the epitome of life. It was the essence of living. After what seemed like an eternity, we arrived in Chichiriviche, a small coastal town where people stay when they visit the islands of Morrocoy National Park. The second we stepped off the bus, a young man came up to us and offered us a room in his youth hostel for 10,000 Bolivars (around 17 U.S. dollars) a night between the four of us. We took the offer and spent the rest of the day on the beach. By that time it was too late to visit the islands, so we took it easy and did a little exploring. Everyone in Chichiriviche seemed so laid back. Venezuelans in general are a relaxed people, but this was definitely taking the relaxation to a new level!
The next morning we woke up around 8:30 because the owner of the hostel had arranged for a fishing boat to take us out to one of the islands. We all got in and were soon zipping across the blue water. Upon arriving I looked around and couldn't help but think that I was on Treasure Island. This was one of the closer islands however so the coast of the mainland was still in plain view. We decided to explore a bit and after about half an hour of walking came to the other side of the island and a magnificent white beach that was absolutely desolate. The sun was shining and the palms were gently swaying in the wind. I looked out in to the blue horizon and felt a sense of peace that has yet to be rivaled. Oguz, my Turkish friend, cleverly fashioned chairs and a table out of some of those twisted whitewashed logs that you always see in pictures of beaches. Now we had a place to eat our lunch, relax, and drink the sweet milk from the fresh coconuts we had gathered. There we were; four friends from around the world, sitting on a deserted beach in the Caribbean, basking in the warmth of the sun's rays and drinking coconut milk. This is certainly one of the moments in my year that will stand out. Anytime I think of it I just let out a sigh and think to myself, "those were the good `old days." We got back to the mainland in the late afternoon and spent the remainder of the evening sipping cold beer and talking with the natives. There was such a warm and peaceful feeling in the air. I felt as though I just wanted to stay there and pass the rest of my days walking along the beach in my flip-flops and unbuttoned white shirt.
The next morning we had another excursion to the more distant islands, which required at least an hour to reach by boat. This time, several other tourists accompanied us from France and Switzerland. We visited a total of about five islands that day: each one progressively more beautiful than the last. After several hours of island hopping we arrived at the crown jewel of Morrocoy National Park, Cayo Sombrero, the most popular island because of its unrivaled crystal clear waters and white beaches. We met some other exchange students there from a different part of the country and talked to them for a while. As the sunset, we loaded up the boat and headed back to the hostel. That night we all went to the pier and sat dangling our feet over the edge. Each one of us was lost in our own world of thought. I sat staring at the horizon. It was hard to tell where the water ended and the sky began. The whole scene was very surreal; all the fishing boats bobbing up and down with the waves, and the sky a very odd shade of gray. I felt like I was in a Salvador Dahli painting, like it was all a dream.
Sometimes it all does seem like a dream, especially now that it's over. I find myself constantly thinking about all the incredible experiences I had and about what an enormous part of my life I would have missed had I decided to stay home my senior year. Too often I will be sitting through a boring lecture and my mind will wander back to Venezuela, and I will nod my head and let out a sigh. Those were the good `old days.