early afternoon, Saturday June 6, Pampatar beach ....must sort my days out

I am losing my days. I thought it was Thursday yesterday. I am on my own again today as MS is at work. I don't have a big day planned. I will call T, who is giving me bolivars in return for my Euros, to see when I can pick up the money and go to another tour agency around here. Maybe I will go back to Pampatar as well. We'll see.

I think the coffee here tastes different because of the milk - which is powdered and then put in the blender with water. This makes it a little foamy. If I am right about this, I want powdered milk more often. For that I would need a blender.

Trying to catch up with my reporting. On the way home from Playa el Agua on Tuesday, I met a Canadian girl on the bus. The only other passenger, she obviously was not from here - fair skin, blue eyes and all - so I asked her if she spoke English and sat next to her. She was amazing - an environmental consultant working for a few months at a mine in Georgetown (Guyana). She was beaching it up in Venezuela before heading back to the jungle, this time in Trinidad/Tobago. Pretty, outgoing, voluptuous, with a loud throaty voice and long blonde hair she is smart and traipsing about the jungle by herself, not to mention working in the middle of nowhere with a load of men: I am jealous. When we arrived in Porlamar and looked for the bank I needed, she went up to two big, gold-bedecked young black men to ask if there was a branch of the bank nearby. She had heard them speaking English. They talked solely to her. Finally as we were saying goodbye one of them made a comment to me about my not speaking. I responded that they hadn't spoken to me and the Canadian said that she was speaking for me. Jealous and intimidated I was. Attractiveness is so relative.

I hopped on a bus at Porlamar and MS, being driven home from work, found me wandering around a street near his house, trying to find my way home. Embarrassing...

In the evening, MS and I went to pick up his sister at their friend's house. T is a colleague of MS's father and is originally Dutch. He left Venezuela in the early '90s when the political situation was unstable but returned seven years ago. His is the first fancy house I have seen in Venezuela, with white tile floors and blue walls, lots of clean open space, a living room of couches and art objects. Mostly while I was there I listened to everyone talk in Spanish.

When we got home, MS made us arepas. He fried them in soy oil (rather than grilling them on a hotplate) so they tasted like popcorn - so delicious! We stood at the kitchen counter stuffing them with avocado and cheese. Perfect. Then, satisified in our tummies, we retired to MS's room to listen to music.

MS is very sweet to me. He is chivalrous - always making sure I go in a door first, kissing my eyes - though he is certainly not beyond asking me to do things or help out. He was great when my coughing was at its hacking, racking worst (did I mention I've had a cough since I left Melbourne?), getting out of bed to walk to the house and make me milk with honey. Also, I love his accent. English is better when it is spoken with an accent and spoken just a little bit wrongly sometimes.

Cows and horses graze in the suburb on garbage-strewn weedy empty lots. It is strange and, for me, a bit disgusting, but nice to see them as I walk to or from MS's.

I am back on Pampatar beach. Not for a swim but for something to do, somewhere to be. I called T but the mobile phone kept cutting out and I had difficulty understanding him. I will walk around the town a bit later.

Every town and suburb in Venezuela has a Plaza Bolivar. It is always well-kept, with a statue of Bolivar and benches.

Plaza Bolivar, Pampatar

Staying for a while somewhere allows me to finally get to know the place a bit. I now know where to catch the buses and how to get to and from them!