The Prout Research Institute of Venezuela

José and Señora Eulalia,
the lovely granny, who described
us the past of Barlovento

28 of july, 2007
Donato Szakmary (Dharmapala)

The last week went with the shooting on field in Barlovento. Since then the intense work of editing is being done. Paul Alister is the filmer, director and editor, but he also very much depends on Krystal and José, who translate to him, since he doesn't speak spanish at all. Quite a challenging work flow: first Krystal translated the 10 hours raw film roughly in order to select the good parts. Then José transcripted them to spanish. (His mother tongue is spanish, but he doesn't speak english!) Then word by word, Krystal translated the exact meaning. After that Paul was able to put the scenes together once he understood what was going on. After many 'clean up's (cutting out the 'errr's and putting the pieces in a good order), which was done by José and me, because of the spanish dub, José is now going threw word by word again not to leave any errors in the text flow. Krystal is translating and collecting the text which will go as the subtitle for the final documentary. Nevertheless everything is going according to the schedule. So when after a few days, when Paul leaves to Australia, he is still going to have the fine work left, which he will do in his studio. Even though this finishing work is about the 90% of the whole editing, I think we'll have a documentary finished in a record time.

some pictures of the filming from Barlovento:

Asopap the fishermen's cooperative
This was the first place we went. Unfortunately we didn't see them work, since there was no fish to process at that time, but they took us for a ride to the lagoons until the gate of the sea.

Lucero Grande ("The Great Evening Star")

... from Lucero Grande

Because of a strange administrative mistake by the National Land Ownership Administration Office (INTI), they were not recognized as the official owners of the land, so they were told that they could not continue to work there, and they had to return all the machinery to the bank. This shocking news only strengthened their determination to fight; fortunately the misunderstanding was later resolved, and now they are free to work.

The center of the coop is where we got stuck. Not long after we arrived, a huge tree fell on the only paved road, blocking it for at least a day. The tree was probably more than a hundred years old, and even the tractor was unable to drag it off the road. Luckily Vicmarx López, the Education Director of the National Confederation of Cooperatives (SUNACOOP) was the subject of our interview that morning. She and her media staff were going to make their own record about the cooperative we were visiting, and they arrived in a four-wheel-drive pick up jeep. (Actually these types of cars are very popular in this country. When we first arrived we had not understand why "Caraceños" [the inhabitants of Caracas] prefer them even in the city, but now we understood.)

With the confidence that the jeep could help pull out our city car if it got stuck in the mud, we took an alternative, risky road. Until the outskirts of the city of Higuerote, Paul, José and I (Donato) were traveling in the back of the pick up to relieve some weight from the other car. Sometimes we almost flew off the jeep because of the bumps! But we could take some really nice photos of the countryside and the very poor villages. In fact, Didi and Andy faced much more difficulty in the car, challenging the laws of physics. Finally, these sheltered filmmakers all reached safely back to paved civilization...

Paul is filming the corn harvest

Paul and the red, Venezuelan tractor

Vicmarx López, the Education Director of the Superintendent's Office is giving the interview

The two crews are mixed while listening to the interview

...from the other angle

Trabajo y Futuro ("Work and Future")

Jenifer Regio,
the lady with much enthusiasm

Also an agricultural Cooperative. This cooperative received a huge abandoned plantation from the local government. It was a typical mansion of rich landowners in the second part of the Twentieth Century. On top of a hill, it was a little paradise. Now it has become the headquarters of the cooperative, but it is in quite bad shape because everything movable has been stolen. The members of this newly formed cooperative are working with their nails, as they say, because they have no machines or even a good road on which vehicles could approach the house. The local government has promised to help them. The cooperative has nice plans to renovate the house, move to it and cultivate the whole land.

The plantation has two huge grafted mango trees beside. That was the relief of the exhausted crew after following the workers out to their corn field in a particularly hot day. These mangos have the name "pineapple mango". They serve this name by their size and taste.

Mother Nature is slowly taking back her property...

"La Ceiba" chocolate production and rural tourism

La Ceiba. This is a cooperative that produces chocolate and promotes rural tourism. As a young man, Javier went to the Academy of Higuerote to study tourism. After graduation he had planned to move elsewhere to get a job, but gradually he became conscious about his region's potential: it produces the best cocoa in the world and is a popular tourist area. So he went back home and in a very remarkable way he started to combine the two in the form of a family cooperative.

Another specialty of their enterprise is that they are both a cooperative and a big family at the same time. While the family is historically hierarchical, a cooperative has a democratic, horizontal layout. This is an additional challenge for the young leader Javier to deal with in this unique collective.

At the beginning we didn't understand why the lady had worn a long sleeved shirt when leading us to the cocoa forest despite the heat. As soon as we started following her, we understood. While Paul was filming, I had to chase a couple hundred of mosquitoes off his body every second. Even paradise has its own particularly disturbing agents!

Los Cedros cattle keeping cooperative

These people had been living in a slum of Caracas before they decided to move to the countryside. Realized that insecure living conditions is always the company of the poor workers of the city. The life in the countryside is more predictable, more natural and especially living in a community and working in the cooperative form supports spiritual growth.

The plaza of Tacarigua de Mamporal, a little town in Barlovento. It’s around 11 am, getting hotter. I’m going to look for cooperatives at random. In a little place like this they are usually easily found without too much walking.

I’m asking an old man, who is leaning on the wall. He is in a red shirt, which means he's a Chavista, therefore he likely knows something about the local cooperatives. “No, there are no cooperatives here,” he says. But this is Venezuela. It's not wise to trust information which you get on the street before you ask a few more people.

On the corner is a woman selling phone calls under a beach umbrella. “There is one nearby,” she says hesitantly. A young guy standing by his motorbike interrupts her and energetically tells me the way, “There is a cake shop and snack bar just a block from here.”

The big room of the Maria del Carmen cake shop feels empty, the counter and the few tables dwarfed in the room's immense size. There are two women working and no customers at the moment. When I tell them why I'm here they become very friendly.

I sit down at a table with the woman who is in her thirties. Before we start the survey she insists I tell her my opinion of Venezuela and the Bolivarian Revolution. She tells me that she is an absolute Chavista, raising her eyes to look for my positive affirmation. She goes on to tell me that she is not from Barlovento, that she is from the Southwestern Plains. “When I came here my skin was as white as yours,” she says, putting her brown arm next to my hand. Outside, the street glows white in the reflected heat.

Twelve women founded the cooperative just a few months before. They all came from one of the government’s educational programs, Misión Vuelvan Caras, which prepares the students for different jobs in a one year long course, and inspires them to establish cooperatives. They haven’t received the government loan yet. “We are the only Vuelvan Caras cooperative in this area which hasn't received it yet” she says bitterly. They put together their personal savings to open the shop.

During the half-hour interview another member of the cooperative arrives, bringing her daughter who had just finished school for the day. They disappear into the kitchen. This is not just a cake shop; you can buy a simple lunch. Guests are arriving to pick up their take-out lunches. I ask if there is enough business. Yes, she responds, they cannot complain. She leaves me alone for several minutes to help in the kitchen.

She joined the cooperative hoping for a better life and found it exciting that people with different mentalities can manage to work together. They’re eagerly waiting for the loan, in order to be able to move forward.

The street blinds me as I step out. The by-passers move very slowly. I begin looking for another cooperative.

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