The official language of Venezuela is Spanish, and almost everybody speaks it as their first language apart from the indigenous groups, who are generally bilingual. People will often say that they speak castellano (Castilian Spanish), and technically they do, but the Venezuelan accent is softer than the Spanish spoken on the Spanish mainland and closer to the accent of the Canary Islands. One of the first things you will notice is that Venezuelans do not have the characteristic lisp on the “c” and “z” that you hear in Spain; cerveza is pronounced “sirvesa.” Another characteristic is that some people swallow the last consonant on words and leave out the “s” when speaking fast, so the word pescado (fish), for example, sounds like pecao.
When speaking in formal situations—to elders, teachers, bank clerks, superiors at work, and especially the police or National Guard—Venezuelans will use the formal singular pronoun usted (you), but they will quickly slip into the informal tu once a closer bond has been established. It is always better to use usted on first meeting a person, especially if you want to build a professional relationship with them, as it shows respect and good manners, and this will be noticed. Venezuelans use ustedes for both the formal and informal second-person plural, rather than vosotros, which is used in some other Latin American countries.
The accent used in Caracas, known as Caraqueño, is considered the standard Venezuelan accent, but there are many regional differences. The people of the Andean states of Mérida and Táchira, which border Colombia, are known as Gochos, and have a reputation for speaking slowly and having good grammar. The inhabitants of Los Llanos, known as Llaneros, have a nasal delivery with a slight lisp, and Margariteños, from the tourist island of Margarita, speak very fast. The people of Lara State are known as Guaros, for their use of the term “na’ guara” meaning “no way!” or “wow!” to indicate disbelief or surprise. The biggest difference in speech is found in Zulia, where the local form of Spanish, called Maracucho or Marabino, is named after the inhabitants of Maracaibo. Maracuchos use the archaic second person pronoun vos (you) instead of the more typical tú, with the verb endings -eis, -ais, and -is, rather than -as and -es. This differs from the vos forms used in other parts of Latin America and is a source of pride to the regionalist Maracuchos.
Many years of US involvement in the oil industry, the influence of US TV programs, and Venezuelan travel to the USA are reflected in the amount of Spanglish spoken in the country. At a gas station, Venezuelans will tell the attendant they want their tank “full de gasoline,” and after a meal it’s typical for somebody to say “estoy full” (I’m full). Other Spanglish words are fútbol (soccer) and most words related to the national sport béisbol, such as jonrón (home run). A security guard at an office or supermarket is a guachiman, a plumber is a plomero, a winch is a guinche, and the verb tipiar means to type. Less obvious is the very popular word macundales, which means gear, things, or stuff. It comes from the Mac and Dale tools that the oil workers were given by the American oil companies. Wherever they went they had to take their tools with them, and the expression “llevate tus macundales, nos vamos” (“get your stuff, we’re leaving”) was born.
English is studied as a second language by almost every schoolkid in Venezuela, but few people can speak it. In beach and country areas you are unlikely to be met with anything more than the basics of “How are you?” and “What is your name?”
The more Spanish you can learn before you go, the better. You will be able to ask for things and understand the replies, and you will find it easier to make meaningful contact with the people you meet. Once you are in Venezuela, any attempt to speak Spanish will be met with appreciation, especially if you can use some basic Venezuelan expressions. A simple “chévere!”—meaning “cool!” or “great!”—delivered with a smile, will be sure to endear you to your hosts.
Speaking a few words of Venezuelan Spanish is the best way to show Venezuelans an interest and respect for their country and a desire to communicate. It’s also an excellent icebreaker, and is generally greeted with a smile.
Venezuelan Spanish evolved in the melting pot of the Spanish conquest, when Iberian settlers mixed with indigenous tribes and the African slaves brought to work the sugar and cacao plantations. More recent additions include the oil camp Spanglish, brought by US engineers, and Portuguese and Italian phrases brought by the immigrants after the Second World War.
Chamo/chama Boy/girl
Chévere! Cool, great, nice, wonderful. A very useful word. Some people will tell you that it comes from the American Chevrolet car, but it’s actually from Africa and the Yoruba expression “ché egberi.”
Chimbo/chimba Bad, rotten, uncool, fake
Épale Hey! A typical conversation starter, or a way to get somebody’s attention
Jeva Girlfriend
Ladilla Literally, crab louse. A dull or annoying person or situation
Mira Look! A typical conversation starter or a way to get somebody’s attention
Pana Buddy, friend. “Hola, pana” (Hey, buddy) is a typical greeting, even between strangers.
Sifrino/Sifrina Snob, posh
Zanahoria Literally, carrot. Healthy. Someone who eats well and exercises.
Those planning to stay longer in the country can find good schools teaching Spanish to foreigners in Caracas, Mérida, and Margarita Island.
There are some twenty-eight indigenous languages spoken in Venezuela. The most populous indigenous group is the Wayúu (also known as Guajiros), who number about 300,000. Their native territory in the desert region around the Guajira Peninsula covers both sides of the border with Colombia, and there is a large Wayúu community in the city of Maracaibo. Other large groups are the Warao of the Orinoco River Delta (36,000) and the Pémon (28,000) of the Gran Sabana area bordering Brazil. The Yanomami are the most famous and most studied indigenous tribe and about 15,000 Yanomami live in the remote forests of the Orinoco region bordering Brazil.
In a country where personal contacts are important, people take meeting and greeting seriously. Men will shake hands with all the other men in a group, introduce themselves, and say “Mucho gusto” (Pleased to meet you) or “Un placer” (It’s a pleasure). Male friends are less formal and will sometimes backslap and bear hug even recent acquaintances, which can take some foreign visitors by surprise. When meeting women, the etiquette is for one kiss on the right cheek—except in a business situation, where a handshake is correct.
Venezuelans can be very familiar or very curt with strangers, especially in shops and restaurants, where service sometimes verges on chummy pestering or complete indifference.
However, people are very aware of good manners, and when entering a room Venezuelans will normally say to those present “Buenos días” or “Buenas tardes,” depending on the time of day. Also, in restaurants or at dinner it is customary to say “Buen provecho” (Enjoy your meal) to other diners.
Elderly people are treated with respect and referred to as Señor/Señora or Don/Doña. It is usual for a younger person to give up their seat for an elderly person on the bus or subway.
Cover Up!
One thing that surprises some visitors, given the figure-hugging clothes worn by many women in the street and the tiny thongs they wear at the beach, is the conservative attitude to topless bathing. On a popular beach on Margarita Island I once witnessed an outraged young mother call a policeman on to the beach to insist that a pair of German tourists put their bikini tops on. The poor girls could see nothing wrong with what they were doing, but the tut-tutting crowd of Venezuelan women who quickly gathered around them made it clear that they thought going topless in front of children was beyond the pale. The apologetic young police officer told the girls that personally he was quite happy for them to continue as they were, but that going topless was technically illegal and they would have to cover up.
Venezuela is a macho country, and comedy shows are firmly stuck in the Benny Hill era, with voluptuous girls in bikinis and curvy maids with feather dusters fighting off the advances of eager older men. Sketch shows rely on stereotypes for laughs, with the Gallego, or Spaniard, as the butt of many jokes. Another source of humor is the macho man in the bar whose wife has him under her thumb at home.
Venezuelans love a laugh when gathered with friends, generally at the expense of somebody in the group. This is known as chalaqueo. Don’t worry if you get a gentle ribbing; it’s all part of the game. People are used to facing adversity and will readily share a joke about the chaos of the Caracas traffic, the long lines in banks, and the other frustrations of the day.
Angry Wife Gets Even
There was a man who was proud of his wife for having had six children. Rather than use her name he would always call her “Mother of Six.” This really upset the wife, however. One day at a wedding, in front of the whole family, he shouted across the room, “Are you ready to leave, Mother of Six?” She shouted back, “Any time you want, Father of Five!”
Dead Funny
A grieving widow at the funeral parlor hears a knocking and a voice from the coffin. “Open up! They’re going to bury me alive.” “Quiet, Paco, you always think you know better than the doctor!” (Provided by Venezuelan comedian Emilio Lovera)
Nonverbal communication is a big part of Venezuelan life, and foreigners will find people to be more tactile and touchy-feely than is usual in the USA or the UK, and more energetic in their use of gestures. Examples of this are the kiss when greeting women and the backslap between men. One of the oddest gestures is the habit of indicating where things are by puckering up the lips and pointing with them. You’ll see this used in shops, and when giving directions. It could be partly explained by the laziness brought on by working in a hot climate, but it is so ingrained that you’ll find it almost everywhere. Another typical gesture is the crinkling up of the nose, like a rabbit, when somebody doesn’t understand what you’ve said.
In restaurants you’ll hear people using a hissing noise to get the waiter’s attention. This is not considered rude. You’ll also see people catch the waiter’s eye and write an imaginary check on the palm of their hand, to ask for the bill.
Tapping the elbow indicates that someone is stingy with money. Pulling down the lower eyelid with the forefinger is a warning sign and is usually accompanied with the word mosca (literally, fly), which means “be careful,” or “danger!” When indicating approval, use your raised thumbs rather than an “O” formed with the thumb and forefinger, which is very similar to a Venezuelan gesture meaning “gay.”
Another peculiarity is the applause that breaks out among Venezuelan passengers when a plane lands. Feel free to join in.
Since President Chávez came to power in 1999 there has been increasing polarization and politicization of the Venezuelan media, with the main newspapers and TV channels taking a strong line against the government and the few state-supported media outlets carrying the government line. The president has characterized the situation as a war against his socialist revolution by a few powerful media owners, while the opposition media have characterized the situation as an attack on press freedom by an autocratic government. One result of this was a law, passed in 2005, that increased the penalties for libel and defamation and made it a criminal offense to show disrespect to the president. While the opposition press has labeled it a “gag law,” it has not muzzled the press, but it has resulted in a measure of self-censorship.
The most respected national newspapers are the broadsheets El Nacional and El Universal, which have taken a strong line against the government of President Chávez, and the tabloid Ultimas Noticias, which has taken a more middle-of-the-road approach to politics and seen its readership increase. The most politically hostile newspaper is Tal Cual, which often features front-page articles critical of the government.
Television has been a constant in the lives of most Venezuelans since a government drive in the 1950s under the dictator Marcos Pérez Jiménez sought to get a TV set in every household. Around 75 percent of programming is provided by broadcast television, and cable and satellite TV provide the rest. The four biggest private networks are Radio Caracas Televisión (RCTV), Venevision, Televen, and the twenty-four-hour news channel Globovision. The oldest channel, RCTV, was forced to become a satellite and cable service in 2007 after the government refused to renew its broadcasting license, blaming it for supporting the 2002 coup that briefly removed President Chávez. The move sparked accusations of a crackdown on freedom of expression.
State-owned TV channels include Venezolana de Televisión, Tves, and Vive TV. Their share of the audience is minimal. The Venezuelan government was also behind the launch of TeleSur, a pan-Latin-American satellite and cable channel that began broadcasting in 2005. Cosponsored by the governments of Argentina, Bolivia, Cuba, Ecuador, Nicaragua, and Uruguay, TeleSur has a marked left-leaning political agenda.
Perhaps the most distinctive feature of Venezuelan TV is the regular cadenas (literally, chains)—interventions on all TV and radio channels by President Chávez whenever he wants to speak to the nation. These interventions can sometimes go on for hours and infuriate soap opera fans if they interrupt a cliff-hanger moment, but the media-savvy president is clever enough not to interrupt an important baseball game. A regular cadena that Venezuelans can prepare for is Chávez’s Sunday program Aló, Presidente, on which he lauds the advances of the Bolivarian revolutionary project, harangues the opposition, tells jokes and stories about his life, and even breaks into song.
The radio plays a big part in the life of Venezuelans, whether it’s the mainstream news and music stations such as FM Center—the largest AM and FM radio network and the main provider of traffic updates in Caracas—or traditional news stations like Radio Rumbos. There is a host of local community stations, many sponsored by government grants. The law states that radio stations must dedicate a certain percentage of their output to locally produced content, and must play one Venezuelan song for every foreign one, in a bid to stimulate the local music industry.
Venezuela is a highly connected country, and has the third-largest Internet usage in Latin America, after Argentina and Chile. For many Venezuelans, the Internet is starting to take over from TV as their main source of information. A report in 2011 estimated there were more than 10 million Internet users—nearly 40 percent of the population. The largest provider of home broadband is the state telecoms company CANTV, while 3G mobile broadband coverage, which has been slower to develop, is led by Movistar and Digitel.
The millions of Venezuelans who still have no mobile broadband or home access continue to use cyber cafés, which are easily found in large cities and small towns and offer cheap Internet connection. Most hotels and many small posadas geared for foreign tourists also have Wi-Fi, usually offered free to guests.
In the student city of Mérida, a popular destination for foreign tourists, Internet access is so widespread that it is said to have more computer users per capita than Tokyo.
Another development is a system of government-run Infocentros in cultural centers such as libraries and museums. These centers are free to use and are equipped with computers with high-speed Internet access, color printers, and scanners. The government plans to extend this network to remote indigenous communities, such as the Pémon village in Canaima.
Just as Venezuelans love to hang out and socialize in real life, they are also avid users of social networking sites. About 86 percent of local Internet users have a Facebook account, and the use of Twitter has also boomed in recent years, especially among politicians. Seeing a great opportunity to get his point across, President Chávez caused a Twitter sensation when he opened his @chavezcandanga account in April 2010. He signed up 95,000 followers in the first thirty-six hours, and by December 2012 had 2,461,250 followers. He reportedly needs twenty assistants to cope with the hundreds of messages he receives each day from critics, supporters, and people asking for jobs, houses, and help with health issues.
The sole provider of fixed landlines is the state-run telephone company CANTV, which was renationalized by President Chávez in 2007. CANTV also operates Centros de Comunicación (call centers), where you can make local and international phone calls and use the Internet. Given the long waiting lists and red tape associated with installing a landline, Venezuelans have adopted cell phones in a big way. Land coverage is close to 99.2 percent, with more than 28.9 million mobile phones in use in 2009. The three main cell phone providers are Movistar, owned by Spanish firm Telefonica (0414 and 0424 numbers), Movilnet, owned by CANTV (0416 and 0426) and Digitel, owned by the Cisneros group (0412). Venezuelans are keen users of BlackBerrys, with more than a million users, but these are a top target for thieves. Many Venezuelans carry two or three phones to minimize the high cost of calls between providers. In most large and small towns, you will find street vendors renting out cell phones to make short calls.
The national postal system, Ipostel (Instituto Postal Telegráfico), is notoriously slow. Letters can take two weeks or more to arrive at their destination. Stamps and postcards can be purchased at hotels, which saves a trip to the post office.
There is little point in sending a parcel to Venezuela from abroad through the postal system, as it can result in a frustrating experience for the recipient, who will have to travel to the central post office to collect it and may have to pay duty on the contents. More reliable are international courier companies, such as FedEx and DHL, which operate throughout Venezuela. The lack of an efficient postal system is the reason for the swarms of motorbike couriers, or motorizados, who zip around Caracas in the thousands, ignoring traffic lights and mounting sidewalks when it suits them.