Venezuelan crisis making life in capital chaotic
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An opposition protester carries oil to add to a fire barricade blocking traffic in Caracas.
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CARACAS, Venezuela (AP) -- As dawn breaks, residents of Venezuela's often chaotic capital peek out of windows and listen to news of the previous night's violence—and for traffic updates.
Smoldering barricades of tires and trash and clashes between opposition demonstrators and security forces this week made getting to work a harrowing, often hours-long experience.
When the Caribbean sun begins to set over this South American nation, people head for home quickly. They call loved ones to make sure they arrived safely. Sporadic gunfire is heard in many neighborhoods—both poor and upscale.
Beatriz Guerra, a sidewalk cosmetics vendor, says she rushes to work and back home before "the chaos begins."
"People are going to extremes, and that scares me," the 58-year-old said. "It seems like people are losing respect and trust for each other. There's more aggressive behavior."
Eight people died and dozens were wounded in nationwide protests that began last week over delays in considering an opposition petition to stage a recall vote against President Hugo Chavez.
The opposition handed in more than 3 million signatures in December demanding the recall. About 2.4 million are required for a vote.
But the elections council said Tuesday only 1.8 million signatures were valid and another 1.1 million may be authentic—but only if people come forward to confirm they signed. The council rejected 140,000 signatures outright.
It is the latest chapter in a power struggle that saw a brief 2002 coup and a two-month general strike last year that helped mire this oil-rich country in recession.
In the capital, most of the unrest occurred in wealthier, mostly anti-Chavez districts in the east. Central and western Caracas, where support for Chavez is stronger, were much calmer—but still tense.
The violence largely subsided after international appeals Wednesday. Officials urged demonstrators to let public servants, ambulances, food, gasoline and garbage trucks pass unmolested.
Still, hundreds of Chavez opponents marched in the capital Thursday, demanding the release of some 350 people they claimed were arrested during deadly demonstrations. Some 400 opposition protesters also clashed with the National Guard in the western town of Machiques, where a 50-year-old woman was shot to death.
Armored personnel carriers roll through restive streets. Guns are seen everywhere—toted by police, national guardsmen, federal security agents and hooded men. Some of those wearing masks are federal agents; others are vigilantes whose motives and allegiances are unclear.
Some claim they are standing guard against police or "Chavistas," as Chavez supporters are known.
Standing next to a flaming barricade, a man wearing a ski mask holds a submachine gun while guarding a street corner in the wealthy, tree-lined Los Palos Grandes district. He halts vehicles and asks motorists to identify themselves.
Teenagers with slingshots and marbles, rocks, Molotov cocktails—and, occasionally, guns—peer down dark streets and entrances to residential complexes.
Others on apartment balconies bang on pots and pans or blow whistles to sound the alarm about approaching police, soldiers or strangers.
Less than a block from the vice president's downtown office, a taxi driver misses a turn after a person dressed in black—wearing a ski mask and carrying an assault rifle—crosses the street in front of him.
"One has to have a thousand eyes driving around here," the driver said nervously as he backed up past another corner where more hooded gunmen stood.
In some areas, garbage collection temporarily has stopped. The barricades of trash, debris and tree trunks make it impossible for the crews to move, and residents pelted crews with rocks early in the rioting.
Openly discussing politics is taboo for the moment. Looks of mutual distrust are common among strangers, especially after nightfall.
A bakery owner in Caracas's middle-class Sebucan district reprimands an employee from a hillside slum for arriving late to work. The worker explains he had to navigate through barricades to make it.
A street vendor wanders in hawking CDs.
"Hey, you know that song, 'Oh, No! Chavez Won't Go!' You got that one?" the young employee asks, making a dig at his boss, who supports the opposition.
The boss grinned and the argument was over.
Such moments offer hope that "Caraquenos" can live together again.
"It's sad because we are so uncertain what the future will bring," Guerra said.
Copyright 2004 The
Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.
