Staying Safe in Caracas

The next planned installment of my mini-series on Venezuela’s greatest challenges was to have focused on unemployment. But last night the Mexican Ambassador and his wife were kidnapped in Caracas (fortunately they were rescued unharmed this morning), and the resulting uproar and discussion here has had my mind concentrated on the other remaining issue – insecurity.

I already wrote a brief overview of the violence and safety issues that plague Venezuela. This time I thought it might be interesting to try and describe how such blatant insecurity affects daily life, at least as I have detected it. I should state from the outset that I am really only equipped to discuss life in Caracas at this point, though I am headed to the western part of the country later this week to try and get some different perspectives. 

In Caracas, as with every other city in the world, there are safe areas and unsafe areas. The city itself is situated in a valley, with a range of large hills/small mountains to the north and south. It is divided into five administrative districts known here as municipios that correspond roughly to New York City’s boroughs. The most affluent and secure of the five is Chacao, located to the northeast of the downtown center, which can be seen in the map below.

In Chacao it is generally safe to walk around during the day and go out at night. After 6:00 or 7:00 locals here generally insist on taking the metro or a taxi if they do not have a car, but even until 9:00 or so there are enough people out and about that if you are on a main street it is a perfectly comfortable situation to be outside. Chacao maintains its own police force that is probably the only one trustworthy enough to be worthy of a call in the event of an emergency. On the other hand, because Chacao is the wealthiest district in the city, it is also the target of robberies and other crimes in a similar manner as Georgetown in Washington, DC, for example.

Moving west from Chacao you first hit the true downtown center of the city, with lots of shops and businesses, then some mostly residential areas (including where I live), followed by the heart of the Venezuelan federal government, with a high concentration of ministries and other public buildings. In these areas the same rules as in Chacao generally apply, except that public spaces more or less clear out after the working day. Even by 7:00 the streets become mostly empty except for the main avenues (which remain choked by traffic for another hour), all stores and most restaurants are closed, and believe it or not people react with incredulity if you choose to come home after then without being dropped after at your door. By 10:00 the streets and sidewalks are truly empty.

 
The next level of insecurity begins roughly with the neighborhoods of Sucre, El Paraíso, La Vega, and Coche to the west, and the municipio of Sucre (not to be confused with the neighborhood of the same name) to the east. There, again depending on the exact location, walking any great distance at any time can carry some degree of risk, and extra precautions must be taken after dark. In September I stayed with my friend who lives in El Paraíso. When leaving his apartment in the evening, occasionally he would notice something, like a couple of guys loitering on mopeds, that would cause him to turn around and wait 20 minutes or so before trying again. Whenever we drove back to his apartment from downtown after 5:00, he would hang up his cell phone and put it back in his pocket or under his leg as soon as we reached a bridge that marks the unofficial gateway to west Caracas. He explained that talking on the phone in those areas “is like holding a guillotine” because people will simply approach a car from a small river that runs parallel to the highway, hold up a gun, and demand your phone, wallet, or more. Because traffic is so bad cars crawl at a snail’s pace and criminals have plenty of time to do that. Because the police are so ineffective impunity is almost assured, and victims can be shot for failing to comply with even minor demands. I would say that half of the people I know here well enough to have asked have been robbed at gunpoint, and one has been kidnapped (only for a few hours, which is known here as an express kidnapping).

"Break the Silence / Say No to Kidnapping / Report"

Returning to the city tour, the next areas to be spotlighted are Sucre to the east and Catia to the west - two of the most populous and most dangerous section of Caracas. Approximately 78% of all homicides committed in in the city take place in the two districts. Sucre´s neighborhood of Petare is the largest and best known of the poor neighborhoods here, and has become something of a symbol for all lower class areas of the city. Below you can see a picture of what a typical neighborhood there looks like.

Petare

But Petare is paradise compared to some of the slums further up in the hills, where it is not a good idea to venture with a camera. As you enter the outer edges of Caracas you hit the most dangerous parts of the city. As I mentioned, the city is located in a valley. The further you get from the center, the steeper become the hills. To the north the hills reach the heights of small mountains and become part of a national park, El Avila. Within the park, terrain is for the most part uninhabited and unspoiled. The south used to be as well. However as the population of Caracas has exploded, shantytowns have risen up throughout the hills, most of them illegal. Politicians, both local and national, have found it convenient to make deals with groups of landless/homeless/poor whereby the politicians allow or look the other way while houses are built on the slopes in exchange for their votes in the next election. As a result nearly all of the new houses are not registered and many of them are perched precariously on steep slopes, seemingly destined to be swept away in mudslides after the next big storm or collapse after the next big earthquake, which will certainly happen at some point. The instability of the housing in these neighborhoods is a good metaphor for life there in general. Poverty, overcrowding, and lack of municipal services means that there crime truly is rampant and it is generally unsafe to enter at any time without accompaniment by a local resident.

For the most part, however, people simply adapt to the riskier climate and get on with their lives. Everywhere in Caracas, extra security measures are taken by all. Apartment complexes throughout the city are gated, employ guards at the entrance, and are usually surrounded by barbed wire, spikes, or broken glass. Public parking lots receive the same treatment. If you park on the street or in the lot of a restaurant, for example, you tip an attendant to make sure it is watched. People regularly ask each other to text or call when they arrive at their destination to make sure that they did so safely. The metro closes at 11:00, though whether this is a cause or effect of insecurity I am not quite sure.

Even in a relatively secure neighborhood like the one in which I reside, there are always a few wild cards to consider. To enter my apartment I must open five locks using four keys – one to enter the building, one to reach the elevator, one to enter the section on my floor, one to open the gate in front of my door, and one to open the door itself. Directly across the street from my apartment is a building that was constructed to be a shopping center about five years ago. Upon its completion it was expropriated by the government and then “invaded”, to use the term here. Today it is home to hundreds of squatters, who seem to be no more or less affluent or delinquent than the rest of the neighborhood, but who nonetheless raise the antennae of people here to the point that they will not open their wallets outside or discuss certain topics within range of strangers. Most frustratingly, practically every shop, street vendor, and restaurant within a 10 minute walk closes here at around 6:00. Which means that if I decide I can’t take another tuna arepa one night I have to plan ahead, because there can be no last minute runs to pick up food.

Finally, sometimes consequences of insecurity are surprising and even a little amusing, at least to me. My personal favorite is that malls here are some of the most desirable places for people to hang out. It’s like being back in middle school. On weekends people will spend the better part of a day walking around, browsing, getting something to eat, and moving to the next mall. On Sundays movie theaters, located inside of malls, are packed. Even some of the trendiest clubs and fanciest restaurants are in malls, because they are enclosed and safe. I think it's for the best. Somehow it's difficult to get too excited to go clubbing when there's the equivalent of a Cinnabon store just downstairs. And everybody is probably better off when I stay away from the dance floor.