Urban Decay

pete
Jul 28, 2024
3 min read

Note: This was originally published in early August 2024 but was deleted due to safety concerns.

I write this on the morning of the Venezuelan presidential election, 28 July 2024. At this moment, my local friends and colleagues are at the polls casting their ballots. This is worth noting as today's post might be somewhat symbolic of the political state under the current president. If the leadership of a nation is defined by the quality of that nation, then I stand by this post as an accurate representation of the current state of affairs.

The visible decay of this city is one of the first things one would notice upon visiting Maracaibo. It is harrowing as it screams of helplessness and despair. Lining the streets are relics of a bygone time of peace and prosperity. My students have never known these times, and the memories of free gasoline, overflowing markets, and easily accessible luxury goods are either forgotten or slowly fading in the memories of middle-age adults. As a result of complex and closely interconnected social, political, and economic factors, those same middle-age adults are raising their kids in a community that looks something like this.

I'm not sure what the building above was intended for, but inside I saw piles of car parts and other debris. It smelled of urine and rot, as did most of the vacant buildings I visited.

A quick glace will show that Maracaibo isn't just rotting buildings. There are nice apartment buildings scattered around. I would regret if this photo tour of Maracaibo left the viewer with the impression that the children here are running around playing in the destruction of a war-torn nation. That is not the case. There are luxury apartments with swimming pools, markets for both the affluent and low-income, diverse restaurants, and a half-dozen respectable gyms.

However, I didn't need to travel far to find the places seen here. They are in my backyard, a thirty second turn-of-the-corner of city center. The photos above are two blocks away from "downtown". This isn't an intentional search of the sporadic rough spots in order to paint a bad picture, this is Maracaibo.

Alcoholics Anonymous spraypainted stencil in blue

Philips is finished here, as with most companies. Streets are lined with shuttered businesses

The movie theater has been shut down for quite some time now. It is nestled next to a vacant apartment building. The stairs to the bottom right lead up to a locked lobby that houses a handful of homeless people. The whole block smells of urine.

I'm not sure what the building was supposed to be, but it is one of my favorites and easily recognizable by anyone who lives in Maracaibo. I couldn't help myself and took a step inside.

I hesitated to go any further out of fear that the floor would collapse on me.

When nature reasserts herself, beauty is renewed. It looked like this was some sort of park, or drainage system next to a small bridge.

Main street is the road to the right of this photo, where the car is.

Subway, Wendys (below) and Burger King all along the main vein of the city (cinco de julio).

The photo above is next to my apartment building. I took this as a political rally for Edmundo González Urrutia (stand-in for María Corina Machado) was swinging into action on the main street down the road.

These decaying structures of past wealth have been stark reminders of failed political leadership, but today there is excitement in the air. The potential for change and growth is tantalizingly close as people make their voices heard. People want jobs and opportunity. People want their siblings, friends, sons and daughters to return to them, just as the 7.7 million Venezuelan migrants would probably love to return home.

As I see the look of hope in the eyes of the locals as they chat with each other about the possibilities, I can't help but feel that same excitement. The dormant strength within the people is starting to stir, and I hope today marks the first day of a return to happiness, tranquility, and abundance.