No matter how much it has stayed, the amount of alcohol on your body or if the day is gray and cold, the motivation to wake up on Sunday is football and friends. Work.
sounds the alarm. I understand that I am not at my house in Caracas. Where am I? Indeed, Torino. I get up, breakfast, wake up my roommate or vice versa. The doorbell rings, two Venezuelan friends who come every Sunday. We descended.
walked calmly toward the bus stop 64. Here, the buses have different numbers for the various routes they do. At each stop there is a map of all routes, timetables and autbouses passing through this stop. All transmission line is under the command of a company called GTT (torinese Transportation Group) which is owned by the City of Torino. The metro, autbous lines, trams, trains ... everything. Thus there is a synchronization (or project) across the city.
After taking the 64 we Grugliasco, where we met with other Latin Americans to play football in a field previously reserved. Argentines, Colombians, Chileans, Venezuelans and a couple of Italians enjoyed the "world's most beautiful sport" for a couple of hours. Goals, passes, teasing, shouting football.
After lunch we go somewhere a group of friends closer. We are like 6. We do this every Sunday. We vary the site each Sunday to not repeat, but we eat well, we talked and exchanged stories.
remember that recently I met with my friends to play football on Saturday and my family to eat on Sundays. In Venezuela. In the country where I built my life for 23 years. And I'm so sad not the memory but for the difference. There lived in a private, played in a private field, we were in your car. Here I can perfectly use public transport and walk down the street. I can feel the city and feel, without any fear of losing more than the bus. Breathing. Live. Exit
Venezuela is like leaving a pool in which they had lived all life. Do not you realize, but you saw wrong. Do not know, but you could not breathe. You moved with difficulty, often nadabas and nadabas but you kept inside.
From the outside everything is clearer, simpler, quieter. You can breathe. It is not more than survive, here you can live. And this is the difference'm sad that requires ask our interests, our hopes and our future.
the seventh day of the week is used to pass the family and enjoy back in Caracas. Eat, laugh and remember how lucky we are. But it was a day unique and different from the rest of the week of insecurity, chaos, paranoia, disappointment, tension (huge) politics, robbery, bias in the media, closure of media, demonstrations, good gas, traffic, traffic, traffic, stress ... and on. Here
out, however, every day is a seventh day.
