MATURÍN, Venezuela — A municipal market in the east Venezuela It is packed with weekend customers hoping to get a good deal among the vegetable, meat, cheese and non-perishable produce stalls. Some carry bananas, cassava crackers, corn flour or half a carton of eggs on the way home.
Cruz Brito, a high school teacher, stands across the street amid the fishy smell that clings to Maturín’s warm, humid air. She has about $27 in her bank account and a single can of sardines at home. Her next paycheck is five days away and her oldest daughter needs school supplies for the next day. Then she leaves empty-handed. Maybe her neighborhood store will sell you a few things on credit.
Eleven years after her The complex crisis of the country., the days of food shortages are virtually behind us, but with many earning less than $200 a month, getting essentials is a constant struggle for families in both rural and urban areas. People work second and third jobs, start small businesses, trade services, and gamble to make money, but still every decision seems to involve a calculator and a calendar.
That angst-inducing math is one reason the ruling party’s power seems vulnerable in Sunday’s presidential election.
Brito is praying for a new president and, by extension, an end to the anguish that has at times left her hopeless.
“I cried because I didn’t have to eat,” Brito said on Sunday outside the market, a week before the elections. “We have not migrated, first because I have my mother and father here, and second, because I believe in God and I believe that we are going to overcome this. But if not, unfortunately I have to leave with a broken heart, as all those who have emigrated.”
Venezuela’s prolonged crisis The crisis has evolved over the years.. President Nicolás Maduro’s government may even aim for economic growth in the post-pandemic years. But workers’ wages and benefits have not recovered.
Each month, public employees receive the country’s minimum wage: 130 Venezuelan bolivars, or a little more depending on experience, contracts and skills. That amount has not changed since March 2022, when it was equivalent to about $30. Changes in currency exchange rates have now reduced it to $3.50. Workers also earn a monthly food assistance bonus of about $40, and those who have signed up for a government benefits system known as the Patria Card get an additional $90.
This is how, with 20 years of experience as an English teacher, Brito earns $143 every month. He receives $6.50 on the 10th of the month and again on the 25th, when he also receives $40 in food assistance. On the 15th of the month, he receives the $90 Patria Card, a stipend that the government has called the Economic War Bonus, in reference to what Maduro and his allies consider attacks on Venezuela’s economy by the United States. Joined.
Families throughout the South American country need at least $385 a month just to buy a basic basket, which among several things includes 1 liter of vegetable oil; 1 kilogram (2 pounds) of rice, sugar, potatoes, bananas, and ground beef; half a kilo (1 pound) of beans; and at least 12 eggs.
So Brito tries to earn extra money by playing casino games on a smartphone app at night, doing translations, holding raffles and selling gifts on the streets of Maturín. He won 1,000 bolivars (the $27 in his bank account) playing roulette. His bets range between 33 cents and 66 cents.
Brito teaches Monday through Friday, but across the country educators often only attend classrooms two or three days a week because they have to find money elsewhere.
“Going to the supermarket, taking a cart and shopping, I don’t know what that is anymore,” said Brito, 47. “Before I bought a whole chicken, now I don’t even buy half a chicken. I have had to buy three eggs because I can no longer buy a carton of eggs.”
Private sector workers fare better, but not by much, earning an average of $231 a month.
Today, 80% of the population lives in poverty..
In Maturín, a center of the oil industry, signs of a once-prosperous middle class are everywhere: two-story houses on shabby corner lots with “for sale” signs; shopping centers are boarded up and car dealerships closed; and a shopping center with ample parking has marks on the walls from where store awnings once hung. The city’s long, wide roads were created for a time when virtually anyone could afford a car and gasoline was effectively free.
A car, no matter how old it is, is a luxury nowadays. Israel Gimon had to sell one of his two vehicles due to the crisis the country is going through. He receives around $28.50 a month between his pension (which by law must be equal to the monthly minimum wage) and a Patria Card bonus. Retirees like him do not receive food assistance.
Gimon, 66, worked for more than four decades as a construction manager and hoped to live comfortably off his pension. Instead, he sells ice from his garage and repairs appliances. He occasionally also receives $30 from his daughter, who lives in the United States.
On a good month, he makes $50 from his repair business after deducting supplies and transportation. He said that he sets his prices low because otherwise he would not be hired by his neighbors and acquaintances, who are in similar economic conditions. He also often performs repairs for which he accepts payment in kind.
His earnings must cover the needs of his wife, his other daughter, and Princesa del Carmen, his beloved poodle.
“There are days when we don’t have food,” he said flatly. “Sometimes we buy beef organ meats because they are cheaper. We can buy half a kilo of ground beef or I buy chicken trimmings that include neck, legs, wings. I was upper middle class!
Through your Patria Card, you gain access to a subsidized food package that includes arepa flour, beans, pasta, coffee, and other non-perishable foods. The government has long been criticized for quality of the food it distributes throughout the country, but Gimon said he eats it even when it is unappetizing.
The cards give people access to a variety of social programs, including gasoline, medicine and subsidized food packages. Opposition leaders and international observers have accused the government of using cards as a carrot and stick during the elections.
Before the crisis, government social benefits were wide-ranging, including scholarships to universities in Europe and the United States, free housing, and all-expenses-paid trips to Cuba for cataract surgeries.
Gimon desperately needed $700 in mid-July for cataract surgery on his right eye, even though public hospitals are not supposed to charge for the services. He reduced the cost by $200 when his surgeon agreed to let him repair a free-standing freezer instead of paying his fee. The rest, including $300 for the artificial lens and $200 for the surgical equipment, was covered with the help of his daughter.
On Saturday he allowed some people to park their motorcycles while attending a nearby protest rally. Maduro’s opponents, led by the opposition powerhouse María Corina Machado. He was unable to attend the rally due to his recent surgery, but was handing out business card-sized copies of the July 28 ballot, highlighting the candidate representing the main opposition coalition, former diplomat Edmundo González Urrutia.
Sweating like practically everyone present at the rally, Nilda Contreras waited patiently for Machado’s arrival. She sought shade from the scorching sun under an umbrella and stood on tiptoe to try to catch a glimpse of the opposition leader’s motorcade. Contreras plans to vote for González, backed by Machado, with the main hope of seeing an increase in salaries and pensions.
At 65, he thought he would enjoy retirement, but he has to sell cakes, ice cream and other desserts to supplement the approximately $103 he receives each month. She must reach at least $200 combining all sources of income to be able to pay for her husband’s eye drops and the heart medications they both take.
“I had a quality of life, but the government has trampled on us,” Contreras said. “My idea was to travel, visit my family. Now that is no longer possible.”
This story originally appeared on ABCNews.go.com read the full story
