Well, two nights after Oly, bureau chief and I chuckled about how ridiculously hard it is to (legally) change dollars into the local currency, and how financially unaccomodating this place is for visitors in general - Oly is still in town.

He missed his flight when American Express refused his hotel bill, red-flagging it for potential fraud. The only reason: The charge is from Venezuela. Douchebags.

Tomorrow morning, at 4AM, he's gonna try an elaborate wire-transfer with his wife and the bank (back in Chi-town, 2AM), and the hotel. He could be down here a couple of days longer than expected.

I haven't used my Amex yet - the strip is demagnetized and strangely nobody has a machine where you can type in the account number instead. (File that under "This Fucking Country") But even if it did work, it sounds like I had to notify Amex before I left the states. Whoops.

To be honest, I like having Oly nearby - he's a good mentor, bursting with non-bullshit advice and support. (Sorry KC, I'm officially stealing Oly from you. Ha!) When he (finally) gets on a plane, he'll be my last contact in person with anyone from J-school before I graduate...and indefinitely beyond that.

Oly's pretty blown away by Caracas. Walking to the office from the metro, he said his West Chicago instincts kicked in, and he doesn't think the Global Powers-that-Be realize just how dicey it can be down here. Tonight while on the phone, we had to stop talking for a second so I could move away from the window until the gunshots in the background ceased. I don't think he's gonna have a glowing review of Caracas the city.

That said, he was definitely impressed by the unique int'l reporting opportunities - something that helps the resume. I recommended not cutting Caracas off after me, but instead putting more stock and careful attention into these types of assignments. It can be an amazing experience for the right person.

Right now, instead of focusing on safety issues in the bureaus we've got, their priority is to expand the global program as much as possible to lend further prestige, and that is just all fucking wrong on so many levels. We're not fucking pawns.

Editor's note: Hey look, Battlefield Earth is on. If the gunfire starts up again, does this mean Dickie actually moves towards the window?

After his meeting with bureau chief, Oly recommended I approach him about working for the AP here - if that's my bag, baby - and if not here then other opportunities in the organization. I've got a lot of momentum right now, hopefully I can strike while things are hot...but who knows.



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Yesterday one of the techies, Jose, took me on a mini tour up the coast about an hour outside of the city. Think NoCal PCH - beautiful coastal/cliff landscape...except for the occasional trash-dump deposits to remind of harsh economic realities. But still - breathtaking scenery, cheap beers, and delicious Carribean seafood. Where do I sign up.

We hoped to hit the beach but it was raining buckets. Meanwhile, we were driving along the same stretch where six years ago a mudslide disaster claimed countless thousands of lives.

So good thing it was raining buckets.

And you could totally see how the disaster happened - all these shacks hanging precariously off steep slopes along the coast. Occasionally, Jose would motion towards the water, pointing out giant land masses that didn't exist before the '99 disaster.

We drove over this one stretch and Jose goes, "We're driving over houses and people right...now. Right here." It was a patch that just got so completely buried that it was never exhumed. 'Hence the wide range of casualty estimates, right? Who knows how many bodies are stranded underneath. We were driving over a spontaneous graveyard - now smoothed over by the highway so you'd never know.

Good thing Venezuela has no open-container laws.[*BURP*]