Some poor Venezuelan parents give away children amid deep crisis

Emmanuel Cuauro, 4, plays with a ball next to his parents Zulay Pulgar (R), 43, and Maikel Cuauro, 30, in their house in Punto Fijo, Venezuela

By Girish Gupta and Mircely Guanipa

PUNTO FIJO, Venezuela (Reuters) – Struggling to feed herself and her seven children, Venezuelan mother Zulay Pulgar asked a neighbor in October to take over care of her six-year-old daughter, a victim of a pummeling economic crisis.

The family lives on Pulgar’s father’s pension, worth $6 a month at the black market rate, in a country where prices for many basic goods are surpassing those in the United States.

“It’s better that she has another family than go into prostitution, drugs or die of hunger,” the 43-year-old unemployed mother said, sitting outside her dilapidated home with her five-year-old son, father and unemployed husband.

With average wages less than the equivalent of $50 a month at black market rates, three local councils and four national welfare groups all confirmed an increase in parents handing children over to the state, charities or friends and family.

The government does not release data on the number of parents giving away their children and welfare groups struggle to compile statistics given the ad hoc manner in which parents give away children and local councils collate figures.

Still, the trend highlights Venezuela’s fraying social fabric and the heavy toll that a deep recession and soaring inflation are taking on the country with the world’s largest oil reserves.

Showing photos of her family looking plumper just a year ago, Pulgar said just one chicken meal would now burn up half its monthly income. Breakfast is often just bread and coffee, with rice alone for both lunch and dinner.

Nancy Garcia, the 54-year-old neighbor who took in the girl, Pulgar’s second-youngest child, works in a grocery store and has five children of her own. She said she could not bear to see Pulgar’s child going without food.

“My husband, my children and I teach her to behave, how to study, to dress, to talk… She now calls me ‘mom’ and my husband ‘dad,'” said Garcia.

FOOD

Every day at the social services center in Carirubana, which oversees Pulgar’s case, more than a dozen parents plead for help taking care of their children in this isolated, arid corner of Venezuela with a shaky water supply and little food.

Last year, the rate was around one parent a day.

“The principal motive now is lack of food,” said Maria Salas, director of the small and understaffed center, echoing colleagues at two other welfare groups interviewed by Reuters elsewhere in the country.

Salas added that her organization – the Council of Protection for Children and Adolescents – lacked the resources to deal with the situation and had asked authorities for help, even just a dining room, but had no luck.

Not far from Salas’ office, long supermarket lines under a hot sun help explain why parents are finding life so tough, a scene repeated across the country of 30 million people.

Venezuelans suffer shortages of the most basic goods, from food to medicine. Millions are going hungry amid triple-digit inflation and a nearly 80 percent currency collapse in the last year.

The government blames the United States and Venezuela’s opposition, yet most economists pin the responsibility on socialist policies introduced by former president Hugo Chavez, which his successor Nicolas Maduro has doubled down on even as oil prices – the economy’s lifeblood – plunged.

Venezuela’s Information Ministry did not respond to a request for comment.

The Caracas municipality of Sucre, which encompasses Petare, one of the region’s largest and poorest slums, has seen an “exponential” increase in parents needing help, say officials.

“The parents come in crying,” said Sucre welfare director Angeyeimar Gil.

“It’s very dramatic to see parents’ pain when saying they can no longer look after their child,” she said. “We’re seeing a lot of cases of malnutrition and children that come to hospital with scabies.”

Two-thirds of 1,099 households with children in Caracas, ranging across social classes, said they were not eating enough in a survey released last week by children’s’ rights group Cecodap.

ABANDONED

In some cases, parents are simply abandoning their kids.

Last month, a baby boy was found inside a bag in a relatively wealthy area of Caracas and a malnourished one-year-old boy was found abandoned in a cardboard box in the eastern city of Ciudad Guayana, local media reported.

Gil said that she had helped find places in orphanages for two newborns recently abandoned by their mothers in hospitals after birth.

There are also more cases of children begging or prostituting themselves, according to welfare workers.

Abortion is illegal in Venezuela and contraception, including condoms, is extremely hard to find.

Back in Carirubana, Pulgar was relieved that her child was being looked after properly by her neighbor.

“My girl has totally changed,” she said as another son clambered over her, adding that even her manner of speaking had improved.

She said she would love to take the child back one day but does not see her situation improving.

“This is written in the Bible. We’re living the end times.”

(Additional reporting by Liamar Ramos and Andreina Aponte in Caracas and Leonardo Gonzalez in Punto Fijo.; Editing by Alexandra Ulmer, Christian Plumb and Kieran Murray)

Venezuela floods shops with unaffordable goods ahead of Christmas

Venezuela's people looking for affordable groceries

By Fabian Cambero

CARACAS (Reuters) – Topping off a year of economic crisis that left many Venezuelans hungry, the country’s socialist government is flooding shops with products ahead of Christmas, at prices that most cannot afford.

Thousands of containers of festive food and toys are on their way, say authorities, and while supermarket shelves appear fuller, prices are ludicrously high for people earning just tens of dollars a month at the black market exchange rate.

“If you’ve got money, then of course you’re happy,” said Geronimo Perez, selling newspapers in the center of Caracas. “But if not, you’re left empty-handed.”

A 1.8-kilogram (4 lbs) carton of powdered milk costs the equivalent of $20 in Caracas at the black market exchange rate. That’s more than two weeks’ work at Venezuela’s minimum wage.

The country is undergoing major economic and social problems, as a decade and a half of currency controls, price controls and now low oil prices have left the government and businesses without sufficient hard currency to import goods.

This means supermarkets are empty of basics from rice to chicken, let alone Christmas gifts.

“AT LEAST THE CHILDREN”

Queues at supermarkets that stock regulated goods can run into hundreds or thousands, many of whom are left disappointed.

President Nicolas Maduro blames the problems on an “economic war” waged against the country and his government has promised that supply will be “sufficient” in December.

The bolivar currency has weakened some 40 percent against the dollar at the black market rate in the last month alone. One dollar buys nearly 1,900 bolivars on the street, compared to just 10 bolivars at the government’s strongest official rate.

This means that importers bringing products in on the black market are paying even more and passing those costs onto consumers, fueling inflation that the IMF says will surpass 2,000 percent next year.

Anger is mounting and hundreds of thousands of people have taken to the streets in recent weeks hoping for change. Some though, are pleased with the festive respite.

“It’s better that at least we can celebrate a little amid all these problems, at least the children,” said Karina Mora, as she left a supermarket in the center of Caracas with her two small children.

(Writing by Girish Gupta; Editing by James Dalgleish)

Venezuela crisis enters dangerous phase as Maduro foes go militant

Supporters of Venezuela's President Nicolas Maduro shout slogans as they gather outside the National Assembly building during a session in Caracas, Venezuela

By Andrew Cawthorne

CARACAS (Reuters) – In a curious convergence of events on the same day last week, four Venezuelan provincial courts issued identical rulings, state governors quickly hit Twitter to celebrate, then the election board emailed a short but bombshell statement.

Opposition hopes for a referendum to recall President Nicolas Maduro were dashed, on grounds of fraud in an initial signature drive. The vote was off.

For many in the opposition, that settled a years-old debate about the nature of Venezuela’s socialist government, uniting them in conviction they are now fighting a dictatorship.

Their new militancy heightens the risk of unrest as the South American OPEC member of 30 million people grapples with a dangerous economic and political crisis.

“Can anyone in the world now really doubt that Venezuela is living in tyranny?” said housewife Mabel Pinate, 62, dressed in white among thousands of protesters who took to the streets against Maduro on Wednesday.

“We are sick of this. It’s time to toughen up and do what we must to save Venezuela,” added Pinate, whose husband was fired from state oil company PDVSA by Maduro’s predecessor Hugo Chavez and whose two children have gone abroad.

After pinning its hopes on a referendum this year – which could have triggered a presidential election and put them in power after 17 years of leftist rule – the enraged opposition Democratic Unity coalition has taken its gloves off.

It is holding a symbolic political trial of Maduro in the legislature, organizing daily street protests, and shunning talks with the government that had been announced by the Vatican for this weekend.

Recalling tactics that led to a short-lived coup against Chavez in 2002 and a shutdown of the oil industry, the coalition has also called for a general strike on Friday and a march to the Miraflores presidential palace next week.

“We’ve reached the limit,” said Henrique Capriles, a usually moderate opposition leader, calling the government “Satan.”

“Does the opposition have anything to negotiate with the government? Nothing. Why does the government want dialogue? Because the water has risen to its neck,” he said.

Some hardliners, most notably veteran activist Maria Corina Machado and jailed protest leader Leopoldo Lopez’ wife Lilian Tintori, are calling for Gandhi-style civil disobedience.

‘I FEAR NOBODY’

The government is vowing an iron fist.

It says well-known troublemakers, who were behind the 2002 putsch, are again seeking a coup against an elected government, with the help of the United States and compliant foreign media.

“I fear nobody and nothing!” Maduro told red-shirted supporters at one of his daily rallies and TV appearances this week.

The ruling Socialist Party’s No. 2, Diosdado Cabello said any companies heeding the strike call would be seized by workers and the military. “We’re not going to allow craziness.”

Long proud of its democratic credentials after winning numerous elections under Chavez, the ruling Socialist Party says it is the opposition flouting Venezuela’s democracy given that independent institutions shot down the referendum.

Officials also argue that the very existence of protests and virulent public criticism of Maduro prove democracy is alive and well in Venezuela.

Maduro insists the referendum decision was made by independent judges and electoral officials based on technical criteria, and denies the Socialist Party had any sway over the result. But critics say both the judiciary and electoral council have long been in the government’s pocket.

The Supreme Court has repeatedly shot down legislation  passed by the opposition-dominated Congress while interpreting the constitution to favor the executive branch and limit the reach of lawmakers.

And the elections council has steadily shifted the requirements for requesting the recall vote.

Maduro would have faced probable defeat and removal from power if the referendum had gone ahead.

His challenge now is to contain street protests and respond to deep anger among all Venezuelans at the dreadful state of the economy.

Food shortages, long shopping lines and runaway prices have eroded the ruling “Chavismo” movement’s popularity among the poor and seen Maduro’s ratings slide to just over 20 percent.

But as unhappy as they are, disaffected former “Chavistas” are not yet ready to throw their lot in en masse with coalition leaders they still view with suspicion.

“They are all from privileged families. How can they represent me?” said Orlando Diaz, 47, a mechanic and father of four from a slum in western Caracas who has seen work dry up and income tumble during a nearly three-year recession.

“Do I hate Maduro? Yes. He has betrayed the comandante (Chavez), he is a fool. Will I join these people in their crying and marching? No way. Frankly, I don’t know where to turn. I don’t see a future, I just have to find bread for my family today and tomorrow. That’s all I think about.”

The opposition’s challenge is how to incorporate people like Diaz and his neighbors from the gritty hillside Antimano “barrio”, into their street push. On Wednesday, they drew hundreds of thousands nationwide, but students and traditional supporters remained at the vanguard.

Scores of people on both sides were killed during anti-Maduro protests in 2014 and there was new violence on Wednesday, with dozens of injuries and arrests. A policemen was shot dead in an incident the government blamed on demonstrators.

“A recall referendum in 2016 would have meant the automatic exit from power of ‘Chavismo’,” said local pollster Luis Vicente Leon. “Eschewing democratic codes and values, the government preferred to assume … the risk of a popular reaction.”

The next presidential election is due at the end of 2018 and most Venezuelans assume another candidate will emerge from within “Chavismo” instead of Maduro. But given the events of recent days, opposition supporters are beginning to wonder if that election will even take place.

(Reporting by Andrew Cawthorne; Editing by Kieran Murray)

Venezuela opposition marches against Maduro ‘dictatorship’

Venezuela's President Nicolas Maduro speaks during a pro-government rally at Miraflores Palace in Caracas, Venezuela

By Alexandra Ulmer and Andrew Cawthorne

CARACAS (Reuters) – Opposition supporters headed to rallies around Venezuela on Wednesday against unpopular socialist President Nicolas Maduro, whom they accuse of turning into a dictator by preventing a plebiscite to remove him.

The oil-rich South American country is in the throes of a punishing recession that has many poor families skipping meals or surviving on starches amid scarce food and triple-digit inflation.

The opposition coalition says Maduro must go before the situation worsens, but Venezuela’s electoral authorities last week canceled a planned signature drive to hold a recall referendum against him, citing fraud.

An outraged opposition said Maduro, a former bus driver and union leader, had crossed the line.

It held a march led by women dressed in white on Saturday, launched a political trial against him in Congress on Tuesday, and organized marches called the “Takeover of Venezuela” for Wednesday.

“We are in the final stage of this democratic fight,” said jailed opposition leader Leopoldo Lopez in tweets from his prison cell posted by his family. “Let the streets and highways send a message to the repression and censorship of this dictatorship.”

Some opposition supporters reported on social media that roadblocks by security forces were delaying their entry into Caracas, where many businesses were staying shut and some parents were keeping children away from school.

“I am marching today for my future, but also for theirs,” said teacher Mariana Hurtado, dressed in white and accompanied by her two teenage children, all carrying Venezuelan flags.

“We’ve had two decades of a failed experiment. How much longer? … Get out, leave us in peace. You’ve stolen and destroyed our beautiful country enough.”

“THE REVOLUTION WILL CONTINUE!”

Maduro, elected to replace late leader Hugo Chavez after his death three years ago, counters it is in fact the opposition vying for a coup beneath the veneer of peaceful protests.

Chavez was briefly toppled in a 2002 putsch, where some of the current opposition leaders played key roles.

“Some want to see Venezuela full of violence and divided,” a red-shirted Maduro told cheering supporters at a rally on Tuesday, where he vowed to stand firm. “They won’t return! The revolution will continue!” he said, pumping his fist.

Opposition protests two years ago, championed by Lopez, led to 43 deaths, including security officials and both government and opposition supporters. As a result, some Venezuelans are wary of demonstrations or see them as futile.

And Venezuela’s poor have to prioritize the all-consuming task of finding affordable food, while many remain skeptical of the opposition, which has a reputation for elitism and whose internal squabbles have for years been a boon for “Chavismo.”

Still, the opposition estimates 1 million anti-government protesters flooded Caracas early last month in the biggest demonstration for over a decade, and was hoping for a similar or better turnout across Venezuela on Wednesday.

Maduro said he was convening a special Committee for the Defense of the Nation at the presidential palace on Wednesday, to analyze the National Assembly’s actions against him and a tentatively scheduled dialogue with the opposition this weekend.

National Assembly head Henry Ramos, a veteran politician who swaps insults with Maduro near-daily, was invited.

(Additional reporting by Corina Pons, Girish Gupta, Eyanir Chinea, and Diego Ore Editing by W Simon)

Students protest as Venezuela’s political standoff worsens

Protests in Venezuela

By Anggy Polanco

SAN CRISTOBAL, Venezuela (Reuters) – Masked youths burned rubbish and set up roadblocks in a volatile Venezuelan border city on Monday, witnesses said, in the latest protest over the suspension of a referendum drive to remove socialist President Nicolas Maduro.

Several hundred students held demonstrations in San Cristobal, near Colombia. The city, a hotbed of anti-Maduro sentiment, was the site of the worst violence during protests two years ago that led to 43 deaths around the nation.

“We want freedom!” chanted the protesters, who closed several roads under the watch of police and troops.

Students held scattered protests in other places around Venezuela, including the capital Caracas, but mainstream opposition leaders were holding fire for nationwide rallies planned for Wednesday.

The political polarization is impeding solutions to Venezuela’s punishing economic crisis. In the third year of a recession, many people must skip meals due to widespread food shortages and spiraling prices.

Foes say Maduro, 53, has veered openly into dictatorship by sidelining the opposition-led congress, jailing opponents and then leaning on compliant judicial and electoral authorities to stop the referendum.

Officials say a frustrated and violent opposition is seeking a coup to end 17 years of socialist rule and get their hands back on the country’s oil wealth.

Many of Venezuela’s 30 million people fear the standoff will create more unrest in a nation already exhausted by political confrontation, a plunging economy and rampant crime.

Ramping up the crisis, the opposition-led National Assembly this weekend began proceedings to put Maduro on trial for violating democracy.

The session was interrupted when about 100 pro-government protesters stormed in, brandishing Socialist Party signs and shouting: “The Assembly will fall!”

Still, the trial is unlikely to get traction, given the government and Supreme Court say congress has delegitimized itself.

Maduro, a former bus driver and union leader, is on a trip to seek consensus on supporting oil prices. His popularity has tumbled since he narrowly won the 2013 election to replace his mentor, Hugo Chavez, who died from cancer.

(Writing by Andrew Cawthorne; and Girish Gupta; Editing by Lisa Von Ahn)

Amid government silence, Venezuela’s microcephaly babies struggle

Ericka Torres holds her 3-months old son Jesus, who was born with microcephaly, at their home in Guarenas, Venezuela

By Alexandra Ulmer

GUARENAS, Venezuela (Reuters) – Deep inside a hilly Venezuelan slum, Ericka Torres rocks her three-month-old son Jesus to soothe his near-constant crying.

Jesus was diagnosed with microcephaly, a birth defect marked by a small head and serious developmental problems, after his mother contracted what was probably the mosquito-borne Zika virus during pregnancy in the poor city of Guarenas.

Torres said her boyfriend left after scans showed their child had birth defects, and she now struggles to afford medicine, clothes and even diapers for Jesus in the midst of Venezuela’s brutal economic crisis.

“It’s intense. But I can’t get stressed, because this struggle is only just beginning,” said Torres, 28, a supermarket security guard who smiles easily despite barely sleeping because of Jesus’ screams and convulsions, common traits of babies born with microcephaly.

The Venezuelan government, however, has not acknowledged a single case of Zika-related microcephaly in the country.

Beyond some health warnings and a handful of televised comments about Zika at the start of the year, the leftist government of President Nicolas Maduro has largely kept quiet about the virus even as neighboring Brazil and Colombia publish weekly bulletins.

Venezuela does provide data to the World Health Organization, which shows it has had some 58,212 suspected Zika cases and 1,964 confirmed ones since the virus emerged in Brazil last year and then spread rapidly through the Americas.

But it has not, however, declared any cases of confirmed congenital syndrome associated with Zika, such as microcephaly, and has not mentioned any suspected cases either.

To be sure, inadequate Zika testing has thwarted efforts to precisely diagnose Zika-caused microcephaly. But countries like Brazil have turned to clinical diagnoses and report “confirmed and probable cases” of Zika-associated congenital syndromes to the WHO, for instance.

Some doctors accuse Venezuela’s unpopular government of hiding the Zika problem amid a deep recession that has everything from flour and rice to antibiotics and chemotherapy medicines running short and spurred fierce criticism of Maduro.

They also say government inaction means kids are missing out on targeted state-sponsored therapy programs that would help to stimulate them.

“This delays the patient’s development, because no matter how much knowledge or drive you have, if you don’t have the physical tools like materials, resources, medicines, well that delays everything,” said Maria Pereira, a doctor in Caracas.

Local media have put the number of babies born with suspected Zika-linked microcephaly so far this year at around 60. Physicians in Caracas, the western city of Maracaibo, and the coastal state of Sucre, confirmed at least 50 cases in interviews with Reuters.

Venezuela’s Institute of Tropical Medicine estimates the real number could be much higher by the end of the year – between 563 and 1,400. That estimate is based on the numbers in Brazil, which has more than 1,800 confirmed cases, and pregnancy rates in Venezuela.

Product shortages have likely aggravated the effects of Zika in Venezuela: lack of contraceptives lead to unwanted pregnancies; lack of bug spray and fumigations lead to bites; and lack of anticonvulsant drugs or state support add to the hardships of children with the birth defect.

Venezuela’s health and information ministries did not respond to multiple requests for comment.

The government says it has one of the best health care systems in the world, pointing to free Cuban-staffed clinics in slums and social programs for maternal and child wellbeing. But it has stopped releasing data as the health sector has crumbled in the last two years.

‘NO RESOURCES’

Dozens of women and babies line up in the hot, dimly lit corridors of the J.M. de los Rios children’s hospital in Caracas, often waiting hours before an overstretched doctor can finally see them.

In the last three months, doctors say some 25 babies with microcephaly have been examined at what was once one of the leading hospitals in Latin America, with the majority of their mothers reporting symptoms including rashes or fevers during pregnancy.

Physicians order exams and prescribe therapies, but the overwhelmingly poor families struggle to scrape together enough money in the face of triple-digit inflation.

That delays early intervention and the discovery of other potential syndromes that have been linked to Zika, like vision problems or joint deformities.

“You feel impotent that you can’t provide anything more because there are no resources,” said Pereira, who works at the J.M. de los Rios hospital. Her family has to send her food and money from the provinces because she only earns around $70 a month between her salary and food tickets.

Other poor Latin American countries have also been criticized for their response to Zika. Brazil was called slow to investigate the initial surge of microcephaly cases and doctors say Zika prevention was spotty in Honduras, which estimates it will have some 340 cases of microcephaly by the end of the year.

Doctors and opposition lawmakers say Venezuela is faring the worst and have called for foreign aid and a stronger stance from the WHO.

Venezuela has rebuffed requests for aid, with officials saying it is an attempt to justify a foreign intervention in the oil-rich country.

When asked about criticism it was not doing enough in Venezuela, the WHO’s regional office for the Americas told Reuters its role was to provide technical cooperation to member countries and that it was working to strengthen that cooperation with Venezuela’s Health Ministry.

In the meantime, families are feeling the squeeze.

Home-based hairdresser Isabel Jimenez, her unemployed husband, and their four kids had already stopped having breakfast before the birth of Joshua, who has microcephaly, two weeks ago.

Now the family in the isolated Caribbean peninsula of Paraguana is under further pressure and has to rely on relatives for help with diapers, milk and medical appointments.

“I cried a lot,” said Jimenez, 28, of learning about Joshua’s condition. “At first I had a lot of anger and sadness, but I have to keep going with my baby because I can’t do anything else.”

(Additional reporting by Mircely Guanipa in Punto Fijo, Liamar Ramos and Daniel Kai in Caracas, Gustavo Palencia in Tegucigalpa, Ivan Castro in Managua, Paulo Prada in Rio de Janeiro, and Julia Symmes Cobb in Bogota; Writing by Alexandra Ulmer; Editing by Kieran Murray)

Venezuelans revel in pots-and-pans protests after Maduro humiliation

people banging pots in Venezuela

By Alexandra Ulmer

MARACAIBO, Venezuela (Reuters) – For over a decade, Venezuelan opposition supporters would clang pots and pans on balconies of middle-class apartments to protest late leader Hugo Chavez’s self-styled “21st century socialism.”

While sometimes deafening, the protests never seemed to get under the skin of the charismatic leftist, whose supporters often countered with fireworks from shanty towns, and many in the opposition ended up deeming them futile.

But the ‘cacerolazo’, as such protests are known round South America, returned with a bang a few days ago when a pot-wielding crowd ran after Chavez’s unpopular successor Nicolas Maduro in a previously pro-government working class neighborhood of Margarita island.

Amazed and amused by the sight of the normally hyper-protected Maduro humiliated in public, opposition supporters are now flaunting their kitchenware nationwide to taunt the man they blame for a dire economic crisis that has many families skipping meals.

“Now it feels completely different because there’s no food, there’s hunger, and this thug we have as president is scared of ‘cacerolazos’!” said protester Migdalia Ortega, 59, beside a handful of women banging pots along a main avenue in Maracaibo, an oil city full of shuttered stores and littered with garbage.

“We had stopped using the pots and pans in marches but now we’re going to bring them every time,” she added, as a few hundred protesters prepared to march under the sizzling tropical sun to demand a recall referendum against Maduro.

The former bus driver and union leader has not spoken publicly about the incident in Margarita, which sparked a frenzy of jokes and cartoons. One showed him overtaking Jamaican sprinter Usain Bolt to avoid pots being thrown his way.

Government officials say the grainy videos of Maduro surrounded by jeering protesters were “manipulated” by pro-opposition media and maintain he was actually cheered by supporters after inspecting state housing projects.

Still, authorities briefly rounded up more than 30 people for heckling him. A prominent journalist is in jail – and charged with money laundering – after publicizing the protest.

Recalling protests against government members at restaurants, houses and even funeral parlors, Socialist Party lawmaker Elias Jaua said pots-and-pans protests should be considered a punishable offense if they promote “intolerance.”

During Chavez’s 14-year rule, their use reached a crescendo around a failed 36-hour coup attempt in 2002 and a strike that crippled the oil industry from late that year into 2003.

‘REBELLION’

“The ‘cacerolazo’ is even more relevant today because it is a symbol of rebellion,” said artist Cecilia Leonardi, 54, who said she has cut back on meat and legumes because they are unavailable or too expensive, while banging a pot in Maracaibo.

‘Cacerolazos’ came to the fore under Chile’s late socialist President Salvador Allende in the early 1970s, when middle- and upper-class women would bang on pots to protest shortages.

They transcend political lines: ‘cacerolazos’ have taken place this year against both Argentina’s center-right president Mauricio Macri and Brazil’s now-ousted leftist leader Dilma Rousseff.

In Venezuela, ‘cacerolazos’ have been a defining symbol of anti-socialist opponents, many of whom come from the middle and upper classes. Chavez, who died from cancer in 2013, used to mock them as a “parasitic bourgeoisie” intent on getting its hands back on the OPEC country’s oil reserves.

One government-employed ‘Chavista’ in western Zulia state said she was becoming disillusioned with Maduro but still did not have faith in his opponents.

“The ‘cacerolazos’ are useless: why doesn’t the opposition give us (policy) proposals instead?” she said, asking to remain anonymous because she feared for her job at a state university.

“If they put forward a coherent proposal, even I would join them. But for now I’ll stick to the devil I know.”

Some former government supporters, however, are now joining the pots-and-pans protests.

Suffering a third year of recession and triple-digit inflation, many poor Venezuelans say they are skipping meals and forgoing protein-rich meats and beans as they often emerge empty-handed from shops despite hours in line.

“Sometimes we only eat once a day,” said Marjorie Rodriguez, an angry former Chavez supporter and mother-of-three, who described putting on a shirt and hat in the colors of the national flag earlier this week to bang pots in her poor

Ciudad Ojeda neighborhood, next to oil-rich Maracaibo Lake.

“We have to get rid of this president so that products start arriving again,” said Rodriguez, stood in a hot line under the midday sun with dozens of others hoping to buy pasta.

(Reporting by Alexandra Ulmer; Editing by Andrew Cawthorne and Kieran Murray)

Struggling to feed families, Venezuelans abandon pets

Sonrisa is pictured at the Famproa dogs shelter in Los Teques, Venezuela

By Carlos Garcia Rawlins and Girish Gupta

LOS TEQUES, Venezuela (Reuters) – Venezuelans struggling to feed their families, let alone their pets, during the country’s deep economic crisis are increasingly abandoning emaciated dogs in streets, public parks and makeshift shelters because they no longer can afford to care for them.

At one dilapidated sanctuary in the hills outside the capital Caracas, hundreds of scrawny dogs bark and claw through wire mesh to scavenge for food in the streets and forest land nearby.

“The crisis has hit hard,” said Maria Arteaga, 53, who began looking after stray dogs in her own home before founding the shelter in Los Teques, the capital of Miranda state.

“People are abandoning their dogs because they can’t afford food and because they’re leaving the country.”

Every few hours, vehicles pull up and people hand over dogs, including pedigrees. Volunteers arrive daily to donate and help distribute food to the animals.

Though Arteaga does not have a formal register, she has seen an increase in the number of dogs arriving in recent months, with nine poodles dropped off just in the past two weeks.

Suffering through a third year of recession, Venezuelans are experiencing shortages of food and medicine, and are finding salaries wrecked by triple-digit inflation.

A 20-kilogram (44-pound) bag of dog food, for example, costs around $50 at the black-market exchange rate, nearly double its price in the United States and out of reach for many in Venezuela, where the minimum wage is $23 per month.

So sanctuaries like Arteaga’s are proliferating, while ever more stray dogs turn up on the streets. Pet shops are struggling to stock shelves with food and medicine.

The plight of the pets comes despite pushes in the past by the socialist government to protect animal rights. In 2013, for example, President Nicolas Maduro set up Mission Nevado, named for independence hero Simon Bolivar’s dog, to rescue and protect strays.

But now even police are rationing food in order to feed their sniffer dogs.

On one recent day, systems engineer Maria Rodriguez, 33, said she came across a stray dog in Los Teques and her 12-year-old son begged her to keep it to accompany the family’s border collie.

“Sadly our income isn’t enough for us to eat, so how can I give food to two or three dogs?” Rodriguez said, after dropping off the animal at Arteaga’s sanctuary.

(Additional reporting by Daniel Kai; Editing by Andrew Cawthorne and Will Dunham)

Venezuelans flood Brazil border in 36 hour grocery run

Men load boxes of food onto the back of a pick-up truck, after arriving from Brazil, in front of the bus terminal in Santa Elena de Uairen

By Brian Ellsworth

PACARAIMA, Brazil (Reuters) – Government employee Jose Lara this month used some vacation days to take a long scenic bus ride through the verdant plateaus and sweeping savannas of southern Venezuela, but the trip was anything but a holiday.

It was a 36-hour grocery run.

Lara took an overnight bus and then a pick-up truck to get across the border to neighboring Brazil to buy food staples that have gone scarce in Venezuela’s crisis-stricken economy.

“Workers can’t even enjoy vacation anymore. Look where I am! Buying food for my children,” said Lara, 40, who was preparing to load 30-kilo (66-pound) packages of rice and flour onto a bus to complete a journey that takes close to 36 hours.

Venezuelans seeking to escape their socialist economy’s dysfunction are flooding into the remote Brazilian town of Pacaraima in search of basic goods that are prohibitively expensive or only available after hours in line.

Shoppers have been coming for months, primarily from the industrial city of Puerto Ordaz – already a 12-hour bus ride – but lately they’re also arriving from even more far flung regions across the country.

Venezuelans spend hours in supermarket lines. Many increasingly complain that they cannot get enough food to eat three meals per day.

Low oil prices and massive debt-servicing costs have left the country without foreign exchange to import goods, while price and currency controls have crippled domestic companies’ capacity to produce locally.

President Nicolas Maduro says the government is the victim of an “economic war” led by the United States.

‘THE LINE’

Under pressure from local residents after Maduro shut the western border with Colombian border in 2015, Venezuelan authorities allowed several temporary openings for similar shopping excursions in July. Colombia last month halted those trips after more than 100,000 people crossed in a single weekend.

The more remote Brazilian border was never closed.

In the Pacaraima, known to Venezuelans as “La Linea” or “The Line” because it is immediately across the border, cramped shops are now piled high with sacks of rice, sugar, and flour.

Products piled to waist height stand at the entrance of convenience stores, auto parts shops and even a farm supply store.

“It’s good business, but the price of everything is going up in Boa Vista,” said Mauricio Macedo, 26, who works at a family business that sells artisanal decorations such as clay figurines but for three months has been primarily focused on food items.

Venezuelan regulations require that staple products be sold for a pittance – a kilo of rice is set at the equivalent of $0.12. But obtaining goods at those prices requires waiting in long lines that are increasingly the site of robberies or lootings. That leaves Venezuelans reliant on the black market, where the same bag of rice fetches the equivalent of $2.20.

In Pacaraima, sugar and rice sell for about 40 percent to 45 percent less than what they would cost on Venezuela’s black market. The discount is worth it despite the cost of the trip.

Shoppers usually take a 12-hour overnight bus ride from Puerto Ordaz to the town of Santa Elena de Uairen. They then travel roughly 15 minutes by van or pick-up truck to La Linea. They spend the morning and much of the afternoon shopping, then head back across the border to catch another overnight bus.

“We’re in an economic crisis and I have to come to another country to buy food,” said Juan Sansonetti, 31, standing under the sun with a large sack of flour on his shoulder. “There isn’t much more to say, is there?”

(Editing by Christian Plumb and Kieran Murray)

Venezuelan women seek sterilizations as crisis sours child-rearing

Lisibeht Martinez (L), 30, who was sterilized one year ago, sits next to her children while they play in a bathtub in the backyard of their house

By Alexandra Ulmer

CARACAS (Reuters) – Venezuela’s food shortages, inflation and crumbling medical sector have become such a source of anguish that a growing number of young women are reluctantly opting for sterilizations rather than face the hardship of pregnancy and child-rearing.

Traditional contraceptives like condoms or birth control pills have virtually vanished from store shelves, pushing women toward the hard-to-reverse surgery.

“Having a child now means making him suffer,” said Milagros Martinez, waiting on a park bench on a recent morning ahead of her sterilization at a nearby Caracas municipal health center.

The 28-year-old butcher from the poor outskirts of Caracas decided on the operation after having an unplanned second child because she could not find birth control pills.

Her daily life revolves around finding food: she gets up in the middle of the night to stand in long lines outside supermarkets, sometimes with no choice but to bring along her baby son, who has been sunburnt during hours-long waits.

“I’m a little scared about being sterilized but I prefer that to having more children,” said Martinez, who with dozens of other women took a bus from the slums at 4 a.m. to attend a special “sterilization day” in this wealthy area of Caracas.

While no recent national statistics on sterilizations are available, doctors and health workers say demand for the procedure is growing.

For a Wider Image photo essay, see http://reut.rs/2atW2ZL

The local health program for women in Miranda state, which includes parts of Caracas, offers 40 spots during these “sterilization days” but as recently as last year did not usually fill them.

Now all the slots are scooped up and some 500 women are on the waiting list, according to program director Deliana Torres.

“Before, the conditions for this program were that the women be low-income and have at least four kids. Now we have women with one or two kids who want to be tied up,” she said.

Health workers at a national family planning organization and at three government hospitals in the states of Falcon, Tachira and Merida echoed her view that demand for sterilizations had grown in recent months.

The trend highlights how the oil-rich nation’s brutal recession is forcing people to make difficult choices.

Venezuela is a largely Roman Catholic country where Church doctrine rejects all forms of contraception and abortion is banned unless a woman’s life is at risk. The Archbishop of Merida, Baltazar Porras, told Reuters an increase in sterilizations would be a “barbarity.”

But Venezuela’s crisis has triggered almost daily riots for food and slammed a shrinking middle class as well as the poor who were once a bastion of support for late leftist leader Hugo Chavez’s self-styled “beautiful revolution.”

Pregnant women are particularly affected as they struggle to find adequate food and supplements, give birth in crowded and under-equipped hospitals, and have to spend hours in lines for scarce diapers, baby food and medicines.

The government ministries for health, women and information did not respond to requests for comment.

‘I WANTED FIVE KIDS’

Sterilizations are usually straightforward procedures that involve closing or blocking a woman’s fallopian tubes, known as tubal ligation.

“I heard about these free sterilization days on the radio. Immediately I showered, dressed, and went out (to find out about them),” said Rosmary Teran, 32, who had her second child two months ago and also came to the health center from a poor neighborhood before dawn.

Some health workers fear the economic meltdown is putting pressure on women to make a choice they may come to regret if the crisis eases.

“Sometimes we hear: ‘My husband told me to get sterilized because another child now wouldn’t be practical’,” said social worker Ania Rodriguez at family planning group PLAFAM in central Caracas.

Rodriguez says she meets with up to five women a day seeking sterilizations, up from one or two per week about a year ago. When women seem unsure or pressured into sterilizations, Rodriguez tries to steer them toward contraceptives like intra-uterine devices, which are somewhat more available and affordable than birth control pills or condoms.

When they have them, pharmacies sell a pack of three condoms for around 600 bolivars, only 60 U.S. cents at the black market rate but a big expense for those who earn the minimum wage of some 33,000 bolivars per month. On the Caracas re-sale market, those same condoms fetch around 2,000 bolivars.

Venezuela’s elite can afford those prices but the ailing middle class and poor are increasingly stuck.

“I couldn’t find the (contraceptive) injections, the pill, nothing. It’s very expensive on the black market, and now you can’t even find stuff there anymore,” said Yecsenis Ginez, 31, who has one son and decided to get sterilized.

“I thought I would have up to five kids, I had loads of names in mind. But it would be crazy to fall pregnant now.”

Still, some women have had to wait for months to be sterilized because there are limited spots at state-led hospitals and private clinics can charge about 12 times the monthly minimum wage. And some health centers are unable to provide sterilizations at all due to a lack of equipment or specialists.

DISARRAY

Amid what now feels like a distant oil boom, Chavez built thousands of Cuban-staffed health centers in poor neighborhoods and also launched popular maternity-health programs during his 1999-2013 rule.

But with Venezuela’s state-led economic model decaying and oil prices depressed, hospitals have deteriorated sharply under his successor Nicolas Maduro.

Medicine shortages hover around 85 percent, according to a leading pharmaceutical association. Equipment ranging from surgical gloves to incubators is scarce, and many underpaid doctors have left the public sector or emigrated.

The government still says it has one of the world’s best health systems and accuses detractors of waging a smear campaign. It has stopped releasing timely health data, though.

The World Health Organization says Venezuela’s neo-natal mortality rate was 8.9 per 1,000 live births last year, above the Americas region’s average of 7.7. It says Venezuela’s maternal mortality rate was 95 per 100,000 live births in 2015, one of the worst rates in Latin America and up from 90 in 2000.

The nation of 30 million people has one of Latin America’s highest rates of teenage pregnancies and large numbers of single-parent households, U.N. data shows.

As they waited to be called into the operating room for their sterilizations, women in blue scrubs and hairnets wistfully recalled happier times in once-booming Venezuela.

“Before, when you got pregnant, everyone was happy,” said mother-of-two Yessy Ascanio, 38, as she sat on a bed in a side room. “Now when a woman says ‘I’m pregnant’, everyone scolds you. It makes me sad for young women.”

As some of her peers nervously looked out at patients being wheeled out after their sterilization, Ascanio advised: “If you get scared, just remember those food lines.”

(Additional reporting by Mircely Guanipa in Punto Fijo, Anggy Polanco in San Cristobal, and Sarah Dagher and Daniel Kai in Caracas; Editing by Andrew Cawthorne, Stuart Grudgings and Kieran Murray)