On my last trip to Venezuela attending 3 days of meetings I had an armed guard and chauffeur with me the whole time
Pobre Venezuela. 1966-67 I taught automechanics to urban barrio teens in Maracaibo as a Peace Corps volunteer. The cities were full of rural arrivals with no urban skills, as the rural population exploded due to modern health care.
The country was peaceful then. Following the prosperity of 1950's oilfield development, immigration of educated but newly-poor postwar Italians, and the overthrow of dictator Perez Jiminez followed by free elections, people were happy and the future seemed bright. They were proud that the indices of national progress - free elections, lowered infant mortality etc - were nearly up to most European countries.
In two years I never had an uncomfortable experience, only the sort of courtesy you would expect for someone learning that culture, and well-accepted. Well with one exception. Late night drinking we were next to a table of four rich kids celebrating graduation from law school and describing to us how to make a name for themselves emulating Fidel Castro. Buddy and I realized if they got drunk enough we might become kidnapping-for-ransom victims. Long story for another post! But aside from that one incident I felt as safe as I would in any peaceful American city. Life was good.
Ten years later I was married and we vacationed in the Caribbean and then Venezuela. Things were obviously more tense. We went to a fried chicken open air restaurant in Caracas, deep in the barrio, it had been a favorite of my friends assigned there. We exited the restaurant and got busted by the Immigration Police. They had a paddy wagon full of Trinidadians (obvious foreigners - Black, no Spanish language). I protested that Venezuelan law required that we surrender our passports to our hotel, and pulled out the room key which happened to be on a 3x3 inch plastic slab, unmistakable. I said lets call the hotel and they can bring down our passports to show you the tourist visas stapled in. No, the lead cop said you can tell that to the judge after this weekend in jail. I argued, he said let's go for a walk around the block. Obviously to solicit a bribe out of sight of the crowd that had gathered. Wife - with no Spanish - was going nuts as I disappeared. I kept explaining to him that Venezuela at the time was strongly promoting tourism overseas to help the economy and jailing us might get him reprimanded. When we got back around the block he simply said "Get Lost - Now!" We haven't been back to Venezuela.
That was all before the Hugo Chavez revolution where government got privatized and sold off to his supporters, and they called that Socialism. Soon Chavez's daughter who lives in NYC became the richest Venezuelan. While the rest of the country descended into starvation, no health care available, massive crime, and mass emigration. Pobre Venezuela.
