Author name: Peter Vittrup

Party night at Miami Beach, Florida

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The clock has turned midnight and I am sitting in a jazzy dark hostel lobby. The place really looks more like a crowded nightclub with lound pop music and party-red walls. Beerdrinking post high school youngsters from all over the world are spread in the sofas around me, and I am thinking this might be the closest I will ever come to travelling with Danish partyagency UNG REJS… However, I actually feel great and relaxed here, and now the boy next to me starts speaking Norwegian.

Just a few hours ago I arrived with LA560 from Caracas. Transporting myself fro mthe airport to Miami Beach, I realized how huge a relief it was being able to ask talk to people again. WOOO, YOU UNDERSTAND ME, I almost cried out to the streetsman awnsered my direction-question. YES!

And now I should put down the computer and get into the game 🙂

 

The no-obligation-relations

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The Japanese student working in a karaoke bar.
The German anthropology girl fieldstudying native Indians.
The Estonian friends joking and drinking rum.
The Venezuelan employee borrowing my iPod.
The American lawyer working for a biotech company.
The Dutch girl liking my voice when singing Wonderwall.
The Finnish mustache man having nothing better to do.
The English party guy with girlfriend problems.
The Swiss idealist wanting to change the world.
The Austrian employee teaching me about 3D programming.
The Brooklyn man asking about Björk.
The German teacher sick of tests and evaluations.
The Danes sailing the world around.

I have felt amazingly relaxed during the past days at Posada Don Carlos and enjoyed just hanging out with people from all over the world. Travelling seems to be the perfect excuse of starting a conversation. And all you want is to share each other’s company. I could not survive long in these kinds of no-obligation-relations, but for an inspirational holiday the hostel life is inspiring. And it makes me feel more open than I normally am.

Alexandro

Swiss idealist Alexandro reading “the Kite Runner” while I relax in the shadow of the tree: “Oh, this is horrible. Hassan is raped…!”.

Chaio Peter

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Rio Caura, day 8 – The girl and the MSN address

Chaio bella

After seven days she spoke to me. In Spanish when the man was changing the wheel of the jeep. She liked the music on my iPod. I understood that. But then she said a lot of things in Spanish, and I was lost. All we could do was smile and make gestures. I thought of a Cuban girl last year. But this was innocent, though the girl had smiled all week. Now she had transformed herself from boy-girly teen to beautiful… woman? Well, she was 16. Her counting fingers showed me. Then she asked for my MSN address. And when I left the family she waved. And said Chaio Peter 🙂

Wheel problem #3 Wheel problem #1 Chaio Shaky backseat party

Salto Pará Waterfall

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Río Caura, day 6

Salto Pará and family

I don’t have much to say. Waterfalls are impressive with the enormous nature powers thundering down. We hiked a few hours to get there, and when we arrived it was like stepping into a postcard. I got these associations to the colorful, nature kitsch pictures you find in the Middle East. You know, – the lightning motion pictures with waterfalls and bird sounds;

The real action was on the way back when it suddenly started to rain. Not just a little, but pouring rainforest rain, that made every path into a flood. We were immediately soaked, and more than once my feet tripped on the slippery mountain rocks. Guide Gregorious cut down giant leafs for us and we walked under them the rest of the way back to El Playón. I loved it :-)!!!!

Jungle rain #1 Jungle rain #3 Jungle rain #2

Blogging is hard

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Posada Don Carlos  

I want you to get a feeling of my world, but the posts from Río Caura have become more like articles than actual blog entries. That might be okay if I was writing for a newspaper, but it is not the best way of communicating experiences on the internet, and I would really like to express myself more straightforward. I have a way of editing until everything it gets all nice and polished, – without real edge and personality.

I am sure it would work better, if I was able to say “Okay, so what’s on my mind??!” Write now! Or record! Or slam a poem! Or Twitter! But it is difficult when the editor inside me always wants to cut and adjust.

So now I am sitting here in my Posada Don Carlos window writing this, and wondering what to do. If you have suggestions on how I can show you immediate, unpolished impressions of the world please let me know. What do you want to see and feel? My wet socks hanging outside in the sun? My morning bread on the plate? Hmm… 

Hugo Chávez frustrations

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Río Caura, day 5 – the beach

We have finally arrived at the vast sandbanks of destination El Playón where this part of our river journey ends. Small wooden houses are spread on the beach, and with the evening sun sending a paradise glow down upon everything, it is hard not to feel amazed.

El Playón Hammock view #3 El Playón boat El Playón motor

After dinner Caracas man Francisco pops an expensive French red wine and offers me a glass in the dark overlooking the water. His wife is asleep in a hammock nearby. “Mmmm, this is really camping”, he says.

Dictator socialism

Francisco expresses his pride in the fact, that educated European students like me wants to come to Venezuela regardless of the political situation. He is openly frustrated by the socialist leadership of President Hugo Chávez.

– It has been 10 years now and it’s not getting any better. Chávez wants to do to Venezuela what Fidel Casto did to Cuba, and all though we should be a democracy here, that man is running the country like a dictator.

Belonging to wealthy class of Venezuelans, Francisco admits that Cháves missions have helped some poor people, but he doesn’t think he is building any foundation for the future, though he has had every opportunity with all the oil money floating in the country. And this frustrates him.

– I am a socialist too, you know. Just not this way.

Ahm… Where is Río Caura?

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Just to let you know where we are: Rio Caura is located in the south eastern half of Venezuela in the region Guayana – famous for its natural beauty and homeland of the majority Venezuela’s native Indian population. Among the wonders here are the world’s highest waterfall (Angel Falls, 1 km), the wide open fields of Gran Sabana and the huge numbers of rivers and channels crisscrossing the jungle.

Río Caura is a larger river coming from the main Río Orinoco. Much less visited than tourist magnet destination Angel Falls, but including the same jungle setting with a spectacular verity of wildlife.

THERE IS A MAP OF RÍO CAURA HERE – also showing some other peoples photos from the place.

What ARE you doing down there???

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Río Caura, day 4 – moving up the river

You know the feeling of being placed in a situation and suddenly thinking you don’t belong there? That feeling gets to me on occations – sometimes when I am at a lecture in school or eating dinner with old friends, but most often it occurs in places where I feel uncomfortable. Like… late night at a party, where everyone else seems to know everyone except me. 

Then my mind somehow zooms out and I look at the situation from outside while a loud voice insistently screams… “WHAT THE F… ARE YOU DOING DOWN THERE?”

I had this feeling today.

It is not because it hasn’t been amazing. Finally we were setting off on Río Caura, the sun had almost entirely burned away the morning clouds and the wide river looked impressive surrounded by the thick rainforest. I was sitting there in the boat – smiling – with Jonás family members just behind me.

Peter on Río Caura 

To my left I had the English speaking guide Gregorious, who from time to time pointed to huge turtles climbing on a rock or sea lions sticking their head up from underneath the water. I front of me was my two tourist companions; a middle aged, upper class couple from Caracas – the capital of Venezuela.

They were actually who triggered my “not belonging here” –feeling.

The first time in a situation where I looked at the Venezuelan couple sitting in their comfortable camping chairs (brought from Caracas to the canoe), with their hands in a pack of salted chips provided by our family hosts behind. “ARRRGH… WHAT IS THIS?” And I saw myself eating of the chips too.

The second situation occurred in one of the riverside Indian villages we visited along the way. The couple were taking pictures and I (with my very white skin) felt more and more like the tourist I am; Inappropriately placed in the middle of strange looking locals speaking an ancient native language and walking around almost undressed. 

 “And it’s amazing some people actually live like this, right”, Caracas man Francisco said to me and looked back at the village children continuing in a dreamy voice; “Simply unbelievable”

The Caracas couple Picture with the locals Indian village girls  

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