Chronicle of an emigrant in South America: The Cúcuta of Colombia

in #travel7 years ago (edited)

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Photo in Cali, Colombia by Bárbara Salvatierra

And how do you live in Cúcuta, Colombia?

Travel with fear to become someone courageous. Travel madly to cushion the landing to sanity. Travel with desire to cultivate hopes. Travel with little to live with a lot. Travel with dreams until you reach the firmament. How beautiful you are Colombia!

Bárbara Salvatierra

I could write a lot of things about my bus tour around different countries of South America, for 11 days.

The truth is that I always imagined that I would travel as a backpacker, but I never thought that I would emigrate and I would go on my way in search of a better life.

It all started on November 12, when in the morning I finished my suitcase and in the afternoon I went to the bus terminal in Los Teques, Venezuela.

I felt so much nostalgia, so much suspicion, so many emotions with life, with destiny, with the embarkation of my country, which I miss every day. It is difficult, I repeat, to emigrate is difficult.

From that day I only remember the sunset, that last and beautiful gift of that blue yellow sky because of the sun, of that Venezuelan blue, warm, willing, that makes you sigh long and hard, of that blue that you enjoy with the smell of freshly brewed coffee

I undertook a trip that started on the border with Colombia, Cúcuta. Those streets seemed insecure, they were scary, but there I was trying to imagine and weigh my situation. I remember that, it kept me alert, during my first steps until I made a line of 4 hours to seal the entrance to the brother country, there were many people, with suitcases full of hopes.

I talked for 4 hours with different people. There was a man, of Peruvian nationality residing in Venezuela years ago: he was also emigrating. He told me about his history and how being from another country, he would eztrañaría to Venezuela, where he made life, friends and family. After all the current situation in the country, he returned to emigrate to his.

After the exhausting heat and hard sun of Cúcuta, I finally sealed my passport to continue my trip. In any country in the world, especially in the Latin continent, there is never a lack of vivacious, corrupt or cheating people. I remember that I had to go to the terminal in Cúcuta, the taxi driver wanted to charge me a considerable sum of money, at least for my Venezuelan pocket, I had gone with the only thing, 400 dollars exact. In search of this terminal the taxi driver left me somewhere else, cheated me and practically robbed me.

It was the first time I was in a situation of "think fast and solve", although I was beginning to distrust people, two women helped me and also warned that I should be careful, as it was not the safest area in Cúcuta. , there were bad people, criminals lurking. They were the 30 most desperate minutes of my trip. In Colombia, there is a form of theft, which is that they place labels on people on their backs without their noticing, calling them "marked" indicating that they are going to be stolen.

I had a brand, and they noticed, they warned me and they took me out of there fast, it was the scariest moment of the road trip, it was the most intense moment of my life.

To be continue...