Yesterday, Venezuelans woke up to a government communiqué stating that due to weather problems, there will be electricity rationing throughout the country. Likewise, they inform that as a solution they will implement the 1x1 in all public sector offices, which consists of working every other day. Also, due to the energy crisis, work will be done for half a day (on the day of work) and the population is “recommended” to regulate the use of air conditioners and other electrical appliances.

Weeks ago, due to the heat in my city and the constant power outages, we decided to go to the San Juan river, which is about half an hour from where I live. We took our things and headed to one of the most popular and plentiful rivers in Cumaná.

All along the way there was everything for sale: hats, food, drinks, Creole eggs, parakeets, corn, fruits, but also unusual things such as colored feathers, black chickens (they say they look for them to do witchcraft) and animal skulls. The villagers, due to the crisis, turn the sale of anything into a business: “You have to sell”, they told us when we stopped to buy or ask questions.

The river was filthy, a sign that it was raining at the “headwaters”. However, we decided to park on the side of the road where a lady and her three daughters were selling arepas and fried pork. The lady has been in the business for years, which has allowed her to raise her 8 children. Now, she proudly says that she has taught her daughters the trade.

After a few beers, we went into the water. Anyone who has been to a river knows that the cool water and the shade offered by the trees create the ideal environment to stay in the water for as long as we can think of. Inside the river, time passes slowly.

Beers came and went, as well as arepas and pork. Suddenly I realized that someone had left a broom behind and I started to make jokes with it. We all laughed at my witticisms, but we came to the conclusion that things are so bad in Venezuela that even the witches' brooms run out of gas.

In the afternoon, after bathing and eating the delicious corn arepas and pork, we gathered our things, thanked the lady and returned home without heat and happy.

Returning to the communiqué, when we talk about resolving, a word that has become fashionable among Venezuelans, I believe that resolving is “to do”. The lady who makes arepas to sell, the villagers who sell even hope by the kilo, resolves her life. We solve our heat by going to the river. But an electricity crisis is not solved by writing a communiqué or a law, nor by stopping working or working half shifts.