Fear by Teodoro Petkoff in Tal Cual
A while back, while I was getting my breakfast at a buffet in a hotel in Caracas, a voice behind me murmured something like this: “Don’t turn around. Don’t think I abandoned you, but I am closely watched”. When I returned to my table I recognized an old friend, a PDVSA executive, pro-Chavez, who up to 2003 used to talk with me once in a while. After the strike I never saw him again. He was explaining the reason for his disappearance. Fear. At Motel Los Guasimitos, at the entrance of Barinas, an acquaintance of mine stayed in one of the rooms, he asked why he could not get Globovision (on cable of course). The person in charge answered him that it was prohibited to watch that TV station at that establishment. Lowering the tone, he added that it was not that the owner was Chavista, but…you understand. Fear. In one of the bookstores at the National terminal of Maiqueia airport I asked for a copy of Tal Cual. A young lady who took care of the store informed me that they did not sell that newspaper.
I asked why. She told me that what she denominated as “A Bolivarian Circle” of the airport had “forbidden” the selling of Tal Cual. Fear. But, not everyone is scared. The other day one of the workers in immigration, this time at the international airport of Maiquetia told me sarcastically, in a loud voice and close to many of his co workers: “Well, and when do we get ri of this nut?”. He had no fear. As long as we have people like this, we have a chance.
The Devil's Excrement 
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