She moved slowly, as if tentatively feeling her way up the massive mahogany in the jungle to the left of that road which formed the boundary to the outlying wilderness.
Had I seen her, as she slid up the great trunk, I would have called her a tragavenado. All boas in Venezuela were known by that name. Even the ones along the Orinoco River, more properly identified as anacondas, were invariably called tragavenados: deer swallowers. Both boas and anacondas were plentiful in the regions around El Pao during my childhood. The anacondas especially in the wet jungle areas around the rapids of the Caroní River near its confluence with the Orinoco River.
The boas are smaller than the anacondas, which have been known to grow up to 30 feet and more. Tragavenados measure between 5 and 15 feet. The largest tragavenado seen in that part of Venezuela, for which there is record, measured just under 20 feet. That was considered exceptional.
Living in the damp jungle maze for up to 25 years and even more, this one grew undisturbed, never venturing very far from that area west of the road limning the west of the mining camp. Since her habitat had not changed much in a man’s generation, she remained therein where she fed on abundant wildlife of wild pigs, stray goats, tapir, deer, chiguires (capybaras), monkeys, and large fowl. Had she wandered closer to the Orinoco, her diet would have been augmented by small caimans.
The tragavenado can act as a very quick coil. She rests midst the brambles or branches for several days. Eventually, large birds, such as jungle parrots, settle nearby, oblivious to the danger. The tragavenado slips slowly, imperceptibly towards the resting prey. She does this by sliding the upper part of her long body towards the bird in an almost circuitous route. The tail end rests on a branch at the lower left side of the tree, seemingly to dangle, like a thick vine, two feet to the lower left and up to the upper left of the bird.
The massive middle section runs along, one or two feet away, further up and then curves along the higher branches so that it rests directly above and to the upper right of the bird. The snake completes as it were an expansive frame around the bird, so that eventually the snake’s head is beneath the bird, mere inches away.
The power of this reptile is embedded in muscles all along her 20-foot length, covering her entire body.
The head acts as a guided missile. The muscles along the 2 or 3 feet below the head are designed not only to cut off her prey’s blood circulation, but also to “launch” the head. This they do, and the bird never knew what hit him. Within minutes it is inside the snake’s jaws and beginning its final, unwilling journey into the entrails of its killer.
Other prey, such as a pig or goat, or especially a deer, requires accommodation. This the serpent does by biting and, while keeping the fangs sunk into her quarry, coiling herself around the quickly immobile body and squeezing it. This is done by degrees. When the victim struggles, it creates small spaces which the snake’s muscles exploit by taking those spaces over, thereby slowly reducing all room for maneuver, until the animal ceases to breathe, has cardiac arrest, dies, and, finally, it is slowly but relentlessly swallowed whole into the laboratory whose acids work on it, preparing it for absorption and transforming it into nutrition.
All this activity, occurring mere yards from the camp, my friends and I mostly ignored. Everyone in the camp ignored. But we knew it went on.
Once, during a game of war around our makeshift “forts” in the jungle, I had wandered off alone and stood in what appeared to be a natural, heavily forested culvert. Unexpectedly, I sensed as if the earth were opening or sliding under me. I looked down and saw a boa pulling herself, carrying me along like a jelly legged marionette. I, bravely, sprang like a jack-in-the-box, tumbled like a rag doll, and scampered like a hysterical baboon out of there, running on pure adrenaline till I reached the edge of the jungle. Only then did I catch my breath enough to call out. We all fearlessly marched to the scene of the scare. But, boas being very good at camouflage, we failed to find it.
The above is true.
Except for the “bravely” and “fearlessly”.
Venezuela tragavenado (boa) Tragavenado killed by machinery during the El Pao road construction Photo of Anaconda captured in Parque La Llovizna, about 40 minutes from El Pao. La Llovizna falls. One of a series of cataracts on the Caroní River as it approaches its confluence with the Orinoco in Ciudad Guayana. About a 35-40 minute drive from El Pao.
The image below gives us an idea of the massive migrations from Venezuela:
Unlike other parts of the world, Venezuelan migrants are usually family units or women with young children, as opposed to young men traveling on their own or in groups as has been seen in other recent mass migrations from other parts of the world. This is significant but is not the focus of today’s post, which is an update to comments posted recently (here).
When asked, many refugees cite the economic reality gripping the country, but in the same breath they also cite “crime” as a major concern to them and their families.
Of the top ten most dangerous cities in the world, based on murder rates, five are located in Mexico, and those rates are principally due to the drug wars. Of the remaining five, three are in Venezuela, and two in Brazil. Only one capital city has the dubious distinction of being on the list: Caracas, Venezuela, earns the bronze at third place.
The other two Venezuelan cities in the top ten are Ciudad Bolivar and Ciudad Guayana, both of which readers will recognize as I’ve mentioned each frequently in these posts. My father used to pick up the company payroll in Ciudad Bolivar and sleep under the stars on the long drive back in the 1940’s. Ciudad Guayana is the new metropolis composed of the old town of San Félix and the U.S. Steel mining town of Puerto Ordaz. By the time I left the land of my birth, Ciudad Guayana was a 40 to 50 minute drive and Ciudad Bolivar, about 2 hours from home.
In 1978, during a 3-week visit there, I had the doubtful honor to be present in Ciudad Guayana when it witnessed a shoot out worthy of Hollywood’s Gunfight at the OK Corral. A gang of armed thieves cased, broke in, and robbed a major jewelry shop while holding the owners and customers hostage. As they exited the store, they were met with a hail of bullets from the National Guard. Two slipped back into the store, tended their wounds, and discussed their escape. One ran out the back and was stopped cold in a volley of gunshots. The other ran out the front and he too was met by a broadside but somehow managed to crawl and limp into another store. Then he came out firing away, à la Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, before being cut down for good.
But most crimes do not end so spectacularly as they devastate homes and businesses, leaving a wake of innocents of all ages and sexes dead or physically and/or mentally maimed for life.
Venezuela has been struggling with violent crime for more than a generation but it is now experiencing widespread crime not seen since the devastations of the Caribs (if you don’t count the massive bloodletting during its early 19th century revolutions). We should not be surprised that Venezuela, a 20th-century immigration magnet for much of the world, is now a massive source of emigration whose numbers in the 21st-century have exceeded 4 Million, over 10% of its population. Just to give an idea of the scale, comparable number in the United States would be over 30 Million.
Those who point to Socialism as the cause of this desolation and havoc will get no argument from me. I would only suggest that the elephant in the room is not Socialism — everyone can see Socialism and its history of failure and death. What few see or are willing to acknowledge is the wreckage of the home in Venezuela (here).
And, going a bit deeper, seeing that the home is a divine institution established by the Triune God, that elephant also points the need for a return to Christianity.
Not only in Venezuela.
The Venezuelan refugee crisis is the largest ever recorded in the Americas. Sadly, there is precious little reporting thereon in the United States media. Ciudad Bolivar, on the Orinoco River, the 10th most dangerous city in the world. Ciudad Guayana, the world’s 7th most dangerous city, on the Caroní River (background) near its confluence with the Orinoco River (not pictured). Caracas, one of the most beautifully situated cities in the world and the third most dangerous. The only capital city in the top ten. The Elephant in the Room: the need for healthy homes and families
We drove past the club to the left and continued by the sports field — simply an open pasture or clearing; the same area which served as a heliport but was used primarily for softball games — and beyond to the only entry and exit point of the mining camp: the alcabala (guardhouse), manned by a member of the camp’s security force.
I sat in the back, our maid, Elena (not her real name) sat in the front, and my mother was at the wheel.
It was night.
I waved at Sr. Bello and laughed as he gave an exaggerated faux salute, smiling broadly, open-mouthed. Whenever I think of a wide, genuine smile, I think of Sr. Bello, as he would greet or say farewell to us coming or going, all the while working the lever which lifted or lowered the crossbar blocking the road.
Upon exiting the camp, shortly after passing the alcabala, the road split: the right would lead to the labor camp; left would lead to the Orinoco, the Caroní, or Upata and points beyond. That night we turned left, intending to go a short distance, some 4 or 5 kilometers on the road to the Orinoco to drop Elena at her roadside home, a structure I would probably call a hut today, but in my childhood it was someone’s house.
“There is someone there!” my mother exclaimed to Elena as we approached.
“Oh! Well, I wasn’t expecting him to ever come by. I’ll tell him to leave,” Elena replied, as she looked towards her house.
The rest of the exchange was sotto voce. I did not understand why my mother seemed so upset and why her tone sounded so urgent, but could tell this was not the first time the two had discussed whatever matter they were now talking about.
She drove a few kilometers more beyond the hut, all the while going back and forth with Elena, who seemed to be seeking to reassure my mother that she was in control of whatever the matter was. My mother found a place to turn around and drove to the hut.
This I do remember: the light was on. A mean looking, swarthy fellow (at least to my childhood eyes) was standing inside, shirtless, doing I don’t know what, while a radio was blasting some cumbia-salsa type music. He did not seem to be a good guy and my mother’s concern inchoately became mine.
“Spend the night with us, Elena,” my mother said, but to no effect.
“Do not worry. I’ll handle this.”
We drove home, Mr. Bello once again lifting the crossbar, this time to let us back into the camp.
Some weeks or months later, I arrived home from school, either for lunch or after the end of the school day, to find my mother speaking sharply to Elena, who meekly agreed with whatever was being said.
And months later our family gave her gifts for her newborn child and my mother sought other ladies in the camp to also give….
One of the most frequent themes of conversation during my preschool and early school years was how Venezuela was so low in crime under Gómez or Pérez Jiménez and how crime exploded under democratic rule. One of my first memories after the fall of Pérez Jiménez was looking out the inlaid windows during a visit with my aunt. Some youths ran behind two young ladies and, to our utter shock, disrespected them in a most vile manner. That event triggered the topic of conversation the rest of that visit, with the refrain, “That never happened under Pérez Jiménez.”
Later, a Venezuelan friend and her family visited the United States for the very first time. Upon their return she told me about visiting a park in Miami or New York and purposefully dropping litter on the grass. “And, no policeman rebuked me or arrested me.”
I was too green to know to reply that the United States system of government presupposes a people who can practice self-government. It does not need police on every corner to jump down one’s throat for littering. As self-government decreases or ceases, crime increases dramatically and littering becomes the least of our worries.
One of our founders said something along the lines of, “You will either govern yourself or, by God, you will be governed.” This was clearly a derivation of Proverbs 25:28, “He that hath no rule over his own spirit is like a city that is broken down, and without walls.”
And this brings me back to that story about Elena. Growing up in South America I often heard that crime in Venezuela was very high whereas in Chile it was low.
Why?
Answering that question requires an expertise that I certainly do not possess, but, given the track record of supposed “experts” on sundry matters, including viruses, perhaps the rest of us should at least make use of Ockham’s razor and take a stab at what is most obvious.
And what is most obvious is the home.
Venezuela has historically had high rates of unmarried cohabitation and illegitimacy, in contrast to Chile, where such rates have historically been low.
For example, in 1970, cohabitation percentages for men 25-29 in Venezuela and Chile were 30.6 and 4.4, respectively. Women’s rates were similar. By 2000, the rate in Venezuela had soared to 56.4, and, ominously, in Chile it had spiked to 29.3.
(Why the earlier statistics between Chile and Venezuela vary so wildly, given that they were both Spanish colonies with presumably similar backgrounds, is a matter for another blog post.)
Even more inauspiciously, well over half of all children in South America today are born to unwed mothers. Per NPR, the rate in Colombia is 84%.
Throughout this blog, I’ve made the plea for rapprochement and better cooperation and understanding between the United States and South America, noting that our respective backgrounds in many respects have more in common than with modern Europe not to mention other areas of the globe. Both North and South America are now grappling with the consequences of family breakdowns, yet, in South America, the family still manifests a pull which surpasses that of North America.
For example, in Chile, 81.8% of all single mothers live with their families and receive support and encouragement there. In Venezuela, it is 79.4%. In contrast, the United States has more than three (3) times the share of children around the world who live in single parent households. In other words, they live apart from their extended families.
South America can re-teach North America the value of extended family.
North America can re-teach South America the absolute necessity of self-government.
And both North and South America need a Reformation and Re-Awakening to God.
For readers with further interest in this subject, the links below will be helpful.
One of the most oft heard refrains in my childhood in Venezuela had to do with disappointments with “democracy.” It was roughly along the lines of, “We’ve been had.” Use of the phrase would invariably result in very animated discussions (not to say heated arguments) about the merits and demerits of the Pérez Jiménez and Juan Vicente Gómez (here and here, for example) regimes versus Rómulo Betancourt and following (see here, here, and here as examples). This blog has written much about both eras and will continue to do so. However, the refrain’s Spanish version has been on my mind for several months now. Since the virus panic, to be precise.
This blog has several posts on the panic: here; here; here; and here.
It would appear that the riots and looting taking place in cities across the United States have pushed the virus off the American news for now. Or perhaps for good.
Yet, while American cities were burning, several virus-related stories were quietly reported.
First, across the pond, in London, a certain professor, known to the world as Professor Lockdown, was being questioned on his opinions regarding Sweden’s rejection of his lockdown prescriptions and whether maybe-perhaps-could-it-be-that his draconian recipes, which were followed by the UK, the USA, and most of the rest of the world, except Sweden, may have been a tad excessive.
Second, some mainstream media reports surfaced, albeit surreptitiously, about the stratospheric death rates in nursing homes, to wit: close to half (maybe more than half) of total US virus deaths took place in nursing homes.
And, third, a large number of public health officials wrote an open letter in effect encouraging “protesting” despite the lockdown restrictions in place, which they had strongly urged, and still urge, upon all law-abiding Americans. So, lockdown is absolutely necessary … unless you decide to riot.
This post extracts from each of the stories alluded to above. [Comments by me are in brackets].
The stories are linked below.
From The Telegraph (London)
The scientist behind lockdown in the UK has admitted that Sweden has achieved roughly the same suppression of coronavirus without draconian restrictions.
Neil Ferguson , who became known as “professor lockdown” after convincing Boris Johnson to radically curtail everyday freedoms, acknowledged that, despite relying on “quite similar science”, the Swedish authorities had “got a long way to the same effect” without a full lockdown. [And, for good measure, if they achieved “herd immunity,” any second waves will have little impact on them, unlike the rest of us. See here]
Sweden has adopted a far softer approach to Covid-19 than elsewhere in Europe, introducing voluntary social-distancing measures and keeping restaurants and bars and many schools open.
The Daily Mail (UK)
The professor whose grim warning that 500,000 Brits [and 2.2 million Americans] may die from Covid-19 without action triggered lockdown has admitted Sweden may have suppressed its outbreak as well as Britain — without imposing the draconian measures.
Professor Neil Ferguson, of Imperial College London, revealed he had the ‘greatest respect’ for the Scandinavian nation, which has managed to suffer fewer deaths per capita than the UK.
He made the comments at a House of Lord Science and Technology Committee today during his first public appearance since flouting stay at home rules to have secret trysts with his married mistress last month.
The epidemiologist — dubbed Professor Lockdown — has come under fire for his modeling which predicted half a million Britons could die from Covid-19 and heavily influenced the UK’s decision to rush into a nationwide quarantine.
Professor Ferguson appeared to praise Sweden for keeping infections low without the economically crippling curbs and said ‘they have gone quite a long way to [achieving] the same effect.’
[He] admitted that lockdowns are ‘very crude’ policies and scientists would like to have ‘a much more targeted approach with less economic impact’;
“I have the greatest respect for scientists there [in Sweden]. They came to a different policy conclusion but based really on quite similar science.”
‘They make the argument that countries will find it very hard to really stop second waves… I don’t agree with it but scientifically they are not that far from scientists in any country in the world.”
Professor Ferguson was quizzed about why Sweden had recorded such few deaths without imposing lockdown, and faced questions about whether the economically-crippling measures were necessary in the UK.
[And what newfangled theory did Sweden apply to this pandemic that had the same, or better, health results as the punitive lockdowns imposed on the rest of us and without the economic catastrophe? Some new, cutting edge research, perhaps? Why, no. They, wittingly or unwittingly, applied the Bible’s requirements: quarantine the sick; leave the rest of us alone. See posts here, here, and here.]
USA Today
Over the last three months, more than 40,600 long-term care residents and workers have died of COVID-19 — about 40% of the nation’s death toll attributed to the coronavirus, according to an analysis of state data gathered by USA TODAY. That number eclipses a count released Monday by the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services (CMS), the federal government’s first attempt at a comprehensive tally. CMS said 25,923 residents had died, but its number only includes federally regulated nursing homes, not assisted living facilities.
Even USA TODAY’s larger total — which amounts to roughly 450 COVID-19 elder care facility deaths per day — is an undercount. Seven states did not provide the number of deaths in long-term care. And New York, the state with the most resident deaths, doesn’t include those who had been transferred to hospitals in its count of long-term care fatalities.
[The article goes on to tell about families whose loved ones died in nursing homes because the homes had been ordered to accepts patients infected with the virus: “I would be at peace … but this did not have to happen,” was how one grieving daughter put it.]
[Given that almost half the total virus-related deaths in the USA have taken place in nursing homes {and that number is understated, according to USA Today}, tell me again: why was most of the country locked down? And why did state governors, such as the much-vaunted Governor Cuomo, order such facilities to admit virus infected patients, thereby sentencing such patients and the entire nursing facility to death?]
In Michigan, the state health department for months failed to track COVID-19 cases in its more than 1,000 assisted living facilities. A spokeswoman said the state began collecting that information on May 22 but doesn’t have plans to release it publicly at this time.
[Imagine that: the Michigan governor won’t release the data. Let them eat cake, I guess.]
In New York, the state’s official count of long-term care residents who have died doesn’t include those transferred to hospitals or other health care settings.
In Pennsylvania, officials released a list of 557 facilities with COVID-19 cases for the first time on May 19. Almost immediately, the state health care association said the list was riddled with mistakes and demanded the errors be fixed. State officials made numerous updates to the data, including lowering the number of deaths and cases at some facilities.
[Why am I not surprised?]
Open Letter (NPR)
Infectious Disease Experts [“Experts”. I am sick of that term, aren’t you?] publish an open letter [encouraging “protests”.]
The letter was started by infectious disease experts [sic] at the University of Washington [the same university whose models, along with those from Professor Lockdown, the government had been using to inform policymaking that proved to be wrong over and over again].
Initially written by infectious disease experts [sic] at the University of Washington, the letter cited a number of systemic problems, from the disproportionately high rate at which black people have been killed by police in the U.S. [this is false, by the way] to disparities in life expectancy and other vital categories — including black Americans’ higher death rate from the coronavirus. […]
Local governments should not break up crowded demonstrations “under the guise of maintaining public health,” the experts [sic] said in their open letter. They urged law enforcement agencies not to use tear gas, smoke and other irritants, saying they could make people more susceptible to infection and worsen existing health conditions.”
The public health experts [sic!] noted the ‘potential for COVID-19 cases to rise in the days to come, according to NPR, and suggested access to testing and care in these communities be increased.
[So we must stay home. Except that we can go out, walk, and run should-to-shoulder with a mob. And throw bricks. “No” to church. “Yes” to riots. I really trust these public health officials, don’t you?]
Have we been had?
A troglodyte’s counsel: you and I have a duty to look askance at any “expert” advice which contradicts the Bible, no matter from whom such advice proceeds.
A good number of posts on this blog either direct themselves to or reference the grand Orinoco River, which exercises a majestic “pull” on all in Venezuela, whether locals or foreign residents or long term visitors. It is more of a presence in Venezuela than the Mississippi is to the United States. I suspect the Nile exerts a similar pull in North Africa, especially Egypt, but, having never lived there, I don’t know for sure. But the literature does affirm its centrality to life in that world for many centuries. I’d say the same applies to the Orinoco and Venezuela.
Those readers who have a sense of adventure, or have children who do, cannot do much better than to explore that river, especially the Upper Orinoco. Alexander Humboldt is still a pretty reliable as well as fascinating source of information and background for this.
Shortly after arriving in Cumaná, Venezuela, the “oldest continuously inhabited European established settlement in South America,” Alexander von Humboldt wrote to his brother back in Germany, “What color of birds, fish, even crabs (sky blue and yellow!). So far we have wandered like fools; in the first three days we couldn’t identify anything, because one object is tossed aside to pursue another. Bonpland [renowned French naturalist, Aimé Bonpland, friend and collaborator with Humboldt] assures me he will go mad if the marvels do not stop. Still, more beautiful even than these individual miracles is the overall impression made by this powerful, lush, and yet so gentle, exhilarating, mild vegetation.”
As he made his way to the Casiquiare, that natural channel which connects the Orinoco with the Amazon, via the Rio Negro (see “Orinoco, Casiquiare, Humboldt, and Monster Aguirre” for more Here), Humboldt and his party, including untiring and powerful Indians who at times jumped into the water to pull the canoe from the unforgiving currents, eventually came to the rapids between Atures and Maypures.
Here is a description of this section of the Orinoco, in Humboldt’s own words: “Nothing can be grander than the aspect of this spot. Neither the fall of the Tequendama, near Santa Fe de Bogota, nor the magnificent scenes of the Cordilleras, could weaken the impression produced upon my mind by the first view of the rapids of Atures and of Maypures. When the spectator is so stationed that the eye can at once take in the long succession of cataracts, the immense sheet of foam and vapors illumined by the rays of the setting sun, the whole river seems as it were suspended over its bed.”
That’s quite a compliment, considering it was written by one of history’s most accomplished travelers and explorers.
Atures and Maypures are names missionaries took from nearby tribes. Some years before Humboldt’s voyage, the Maypures had been exterminated by the violent Caribs (see more on the Caribs here and Here) and, according to legend, had taken their domesticated parrots as spoils. Humboldt had come across some Caribs one of whom gave him his parrot as a gift.
The explorer noticed that the words spoken by the parrot did not correspond with the Carib dialect and he asked his host why. The Indian told him that the words he heard were not Carib, but Maypure, the now extinct tribe. So Humboldt was hearing language from a tribe that no longer could speak.
That’s a fascinating tale, although I’ve not been able to confirm it in Humboldt’s massive, multi-volume Narrative.
A few more observations by the great explorer about this area of the Orinoco:
“We passed two hours on a large rock, standing in the middle of the Orinoco, and called the Piedra de la Paciencia, or the Stone of Patience, because the canoes, in going up, are sometimes detained there two days, to extricate themselves from the whirlpool caused by this rock.”
And, finally,
“The Indians would not hazard passing the cataract; and we slept on a very incommodious spot, on the shelf of a rock, with a slope of more than eighteen degrees, and of which the crevices sheltered a swarm of bats. We heard the cries of the jaguar very near us during the whole night. They were answered by our great dog in lengthened howlings. I waited the appearance of the stars in vain: the sky was exceedingly black; and the hoarse sounds of the cascades of the Orinoco mingled with the rolling of the distant thunder.”
We will continue to visit with Mr. Humboldt.
Alexander von Humboldt’s map of a section of the Upper Orinoco River.Alexander von Humboldt camped on the shores of the Orinoco River.Between Atures and Maypures rapids. Note one of the granite stones which so impressed Humboldt.Orinoco rapids between Atures and Maypures. These delayed, fascinated, and at times frightened Humboldt’s party as they made their way on the Orinoco towards the Casiquiare.Parrot from Atures area.
