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Overnight my batteries had recharged and were back at 25%. I was still weak and my legs were still hurting. I had eaten bouillon and an ice cream yesterday, the first food after a week and my stomach now had the size of a big marble toy. I drove to the main square, parked the car, connected the computer and continued with the work on the project and watched the children rights protest. The majority of group Gregory had a ticket for the bus at 11:00 and I had promised to be at the bus terminal to say good bye for the last time. I picked up Omar and the cooks at the posada and we drove to the bus terminal. Omar was still pretty drunk from yesterday and had problems to stand in line to buy bus tickets. An hour later Omar had three of the last tickets for the bus at 19:00 hours to Puerto Ordaz. Omar and the cooks took a taxi and drove back to the posada, he needed a rest.
I stayed at the bus terminal and within few minutes difference the majority of group Gregory arrived. We had the final small talk, took the final pictures, had the final hug and said the definite and final good bye. The bus had arrived and the passengers were called to prepare for the check in. This was then also the sign for me to leave and drive back to the main square, park the car, connect the computer and continue with the work on the project. Omar came to the car and invited me for lunch at his aunt’s house in the indigenous community of Mana Krü. I had to be impolite and denied, instead I went to the food mall from yesterday, sat at the same table of the snack bar from yesterday and had the same small portion of bouillon like yesterday. My batteries were back to 30%.
Resistencia Indígena 04 Resistencia Indígena 05
We met again at the main square later in the afternoon; Omar was still a little bit drunk, still a little bit hungry and decided to spend his last money at the Chinese restaurant. He had exactly enough money to order three bottles of beer and two plates for all of us. I was definitely not hungry and just tried the sweet and sour chicken and the Cole slaw. Omar paid the bill and I drove them to the bus terminal, had the final hug, said the definite and final good bye. I had spent a day more than I wanted to in Santa Elena de Uairen and my money was running out. I had 300 Bolivares left for tonight and tomorrow morning, not enough for another ice cream and a Maracuja juice for tonight and another Maracuja juice for tomorrow morning.
I thought I go around the city and the typical places and look for another Gringo, ideally German and simply ask for 1 Euro. 1 Euro sounded better and less than 600 Bolivares but actually was the same. I did not have much luck to find my group here in Santa Elena ten days ago and did not have much luck to find 1 Euro. I did not want to drive to the border to withdraw money; I was at the limit with petrol anyway and I was at the limit with the kilometer allowance before the 40.000 kilometer revision. I did not want to withdraw money from a Venezuelan cash machine as the official exchange rate was ten times worse than the exchange rate on the street. I decided to spend 150 Bolivares for the ice cream and 150 Bolivares for a small Coca Cola and had no money left. I worked until late at the main square, drove to my parking at the hospital and prepared myself for the last night in Venezuela, tomorrow I had the whole day for the border bureaucracy and the drive back to Boa Vista. My batteries were back to 40%.
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