My departure to Venezuela set the beginning of a long-anticipated experiment, namely, what happens if I simply buy myself a one-way ticket to an absolutely unknown to me country, without a plan or direction? If you wonder how and why I chose Venezuela let me clarify something, it wasn’t me who chose Venezuela, Venezuela chose me.

In the beginning of a beautiful autumn, I returned home from the USA, where I had lived and worked for over 2 years. I had saved up some small change and was trying to find the perfect investment for it. That was the time when a friend of mine mentioned her brother who had just moved to an island in Venezuela in pursuit of opening a small business in the food industry. We decided to ask if he needed an investor and a colleague and he gladly accepted. So that is how my dream to live in an entirely unknown world to me was born. I decided to take my time with the departure and purchased a ticket for a few months later. So far, everything was somewhat normal and there was nothing unusual except the destination country, or so it seemed.  

Fast forward to a few days later, the aforementioned brother decided to change his mind and no longer intended to live or do business in Venezuela. Furthermore, he suggested that I cancel my plans too. So here I was, faced with the dilemma – should I stay, or should I go? Should I listen to my rational thoughts and not go or should I do what I’d always dreamed of and leave with a one-way ticket, not knowing what to expect, not having anyone to expect me, or not knowing anyone there at all? To be honest, I didn’t ponder on this too much, nor did I have sleepless nights over it. The feeling within was so compelling that I immediately made the decision to go, not only for a journey but to move there for good. Exactly as planned. 

Needless to say, many of my friends and relatives tried to bring me to reason, however, as they spoke I pictured the alluring island beaches and the shining sun. Hardly any of the words they spoke reached me. 

What did I know about Venezuela – barely anything. What did I learn before my departure – barely any more. The only information I permitted near me were short videos with collages from the island (the one you see below I played daily) and pictures I randomly scrolled through on the web. Nothing more, nothing less. Let me explain; not my brain made the decision to go, why bother feeding it information? The decision was made by something bigger and deeper, you name it; that thing, however, was not interested in anything but the rhythmic salsa, the beautiful landscapes, and the harmonious sound of the Spanish language. 

The video that was my main source of information about Venezuela.

I started a language course just so that when I arrived I could carry on a simple conversation with the locals. I completed two levels and stopped. What better way to learn than on the spot? After all, I had decided to emigrate there, and I was going to have plenty of time to learn. 

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