In late December, 2002 1992 I was asked if I would be willing to move to Caracas and take over the sales operations for Latin America. I did not need to be asked twice. Careful readers of this blog may remember that I has already spent one summer in Latin America, and I reveled at the chance of getting back. I had the feeling it was not going to be an easy job, but I was very eager to take on such a challenge.
The first thing I had to do was find a replacement for myself. Remember, I said how hard and wearing the last post was, and I wanted to get someone who knew what they were getting themselves into. So I recruited our Canadian support manager to come down to Houston. He was originally reluctant, and his wife was not really completable in Houston. She though the crime rate was too high.
I pointed out that most crime in Houston is committed by someone you know, and since they didn't know anyone here, they would be safe. The pitch must have worked, because he took the job, they moved here and have stayed in Houston ever since.
Then I had to find a place to stay, sell my house, move, and get prepared for a job where I didn't speak the language, I wasn't really wanted, and the clients didn't trust us.
Starting from the top. I was able to sell the house at the last minute. It was a great house in the Houston Heights. I think I paid about $112k for the place, put a couple grand into it, and sold it for $150k five years later. Not a bad return, but not spectacular, either. I think it is now on the tax rolls for over $400k. (don't get too excited. It didn't even double twice in 20 years, so the appreciation would only be about 6% per year)
Our house in the Houston Heights
Finding a place to stay in Caracas was harder than you can imagine. We had two dogs and three cats, and contrary to most expat's preference, we wanted to live in a house. (Houses in Caracas we few and far between. They are harder to secure, and land was very expensive. They were called "fincas" (farms) instead of "casas")
We worked with a real estate lady named Natalie Bennecourt. We must have looked at 10 or 15 places until we found the one we wanted. It was in the "urbanizacion" )neighborhood) of Los Chorros (the waterfall) and was really the downstairs of a house built into a hill. We had our own yard, garage, services, and so on. The house did not come with any light fixtures. No, really - all the ceiling fixtures had been ripped out by the owners. (They had moved to Curacao as he worked for PDVSA as a ChemE in a refinery there)So we have to not only bring all our stuff, but buy light fixtures and ceiling fans to put in the house.
Quinta Mariguita, Av Las Magnolias, Los Chorros, Caracas
I liked that house, none the less. We had our own water tank, and our own well for when the city water was cut off. The yard was huge! We had avocado trees, mango trees, and passion fruit vines. We had exotic flowers that only opened at night. We had barbed wire around the top of the 10' wall.
Marina with the Night Blooming Cereus
I enjoyed working in Venezuela, even though, as I said above, they did NOT want me in the office.
Thinking about what I had to do at work
Drinking after I realize what I had to do at work
IT is hard to underestimate how unwelcome I was in Venezuela. The folks in the office (including, and perhaps especially, the expats) have been use to doing what they wanted with little oversight from Houston. I was viewed as that oversight. One of the Americans in the office said that he was going to pick me up at the airport on my house hunting trip. He decided to go to the beach, leaving me and my wife with no choice but to grab an airport taxi (highly discouraged) to the hotel. Nice guy.
The only person who tried to help me in those days was the office manager, and she remains a very dear friend. The person they had "running" the office was a Frenchman who did nothing more than put up roadblocks in my way. Thankfully, he was moved to Paris within a couple of months.
Coffee at the Office
The job was largely a series of meetings with clients around the region (I was responsible for everything Mexico and south. Originally it was only sales, shortly after I got there it was all operations as well) We had to rebuild a lot of relationships, and follow through on commitments made. This job was 100% about recovering broken relationships.
We must have been doing something right, as we double sales the first year, and then increased them by almost 70% the following year.
Even after my rocky start, I loved Venezuela. I looked at buying a coffee plantation:
but luckily did not close that deal.
Getting around in Venezuela was always interesting:
But I really enjoyed living there. This is getting to be a long post, but following are two letters I wrote back to my family after the first day I was there, and then after a month. We are all so infinitely adaptable!
The first thing I had to do was find a replacement for myself. Remember, I said how hard and wearing the last post was, and I wanted to get someone who knew what they were getting themselves into. So I recruited our Canadian support manager to come down to Houston. He was originally reluctant, and his wife was not really completable in Houston. She though the crime rate was too high.
I pointed out that most crime in Houston is committed by someone you know, and since they didn't know anyone here, they would be safe. The pitch must have worked, because he took the job, they moved here and have stayed in Houston ever since.
Then I had to find a place to stay, sell my house, move, and get prepared for a job where I didn't speak the language, I wasn't really wanted, and the clients didn't trust us.
Starting from the top. I was able to sell the house at the last minute. It was a great house in the Houston Heights. I think I paid about $112k for the place, put a couple grand into it, and sold it for $150k five years later. Not a bad return, but not spectacular, either. I think it is now on the tax rolls for over $400k. (don't get too excited. It didn't even double twice in 20 years, so the appreciation would only be about 6% per year)
 |
| From Venezuela |
Finding a place to stay in Caracas was harder than you can imagine. We had two dogs and three cats, and contrary to most expat's preference, we wanted to live in a house. (Houses in Caracas we few and far between. They are harder to secure, and land was very expensive. They were called "fincas" (farms) instead of "casas")
We worked with a real estate lady named Natalie Bennecourt. We must have looked at 10 or 15 places until we found the one we wanted. It was in the "urbanizacion" )neighborhood) of Los Chorros (the waterfall) and was really the downstairs of a house built into a hill. We had our own yard, garage, services, and so on. The house did not come with any light fixtures. No, really - all the ceiling fixtures had been ripped out by the owners. (They had moved to Curacao as he worked for PDVSA as a ChemE in a refinery there)So we have to not only bring all our stuff, but buy light fixtures and ceiling fans to put in the house.
 |
| From Venezuela 1993 |
I liked that house, none the less. We had our own water tank, and our own well for when the city water was cut off. The yard was huge! We had avocado trees, mango trees, and passion fruit vines. We had exotic flowers that only opened at night. We had barbed wire around the top of the 10' wall.
 |
| From Venezuela 1993 |
I enjoyed working in Venezuela, even though, as I said above, they did NOT want me in the office.
 |
| From Venezuela 1993 |
 |
| From Venezuela 1993 |
IT is hard to underestimate how unwelcome I was in Venezuela. The folks in the office (including, and perhaps especially, the expats) have been use to doing what they wanted with little oversight from Houston. I was viewed as that oversight. One of the Americans in the office said that he was going to pick me up at the airport on my house hunting trip. He decided to go to the beach, leaving me and my wife with no choice but to grab an airport taxi (highly discouraged) to the hotel. Nice guy.
The only person who tried to help me in those days was the office manager, and she remains a very dear friend. The person they had "running" the office was a Frenchman who did nothing more than put up roadblocks in my way. Thankfully, he was moved to Paris within a couple of months.
 |
| From Venezuela 1993 |
The job was largely a series of meetings with clients around the region (I was responsible for everything Mexico and south. Originally it was only sales, shortly after I got there it was all operations as well) We had to rebuild a lot of relationships, and follow through on commitments made. This job was 100% about recovering broken relationships.
We must have been doing something right, as we double sales the first year, and then increased them by almost 70% the following year.
Even after my rocky start, I loved Venezuela. I looked at buying a coffee plantation:
 |
| From Venezuela 1993 |
but luckily did not close that deal.
Getting around in Venezuela was always interesting:
 |
| From Venezuela 1993 |
 |
| From Venezuela 1993 |
But I really enjoyed living there. This is getting to be a long post, but following are two letters I wrote back to my family after the first day I was there, and then after a month. We are all so infinitely adaptable!
April 16, 1993
Our first full day in Caracas comes to an early end. We have no furniture,
no TV, and no one to have a beer with but each other. The reality of being
2000 miles away from "home" is now taking hold. This is probably (my guess)
the worst time for a new assignment. Our stuff is not here, we really have
no friends, and we don't even know where to go fora quick beer after work.
As far as I can tell, most people in service jobs (working at grocery
stores, etc) hate them and their customers. I think that it is a reflection
of the early, easy wealth that oil generated in this country. If things
don't get done, it really is no problem, and if things start to look OK,
"Todo es Cheverre" (Everything is great) Coming from a continent, a
country, a state, and a family that places great store in personal
responsibility (well, I guess I am exaggerating some with the
continent,country, and state) it is a surprise to see people not taking any
responsibility for anything but their next day on the beach.
The trip down was long and tiring. We gave the dogs and cats to the kennel
service (they got all the paperwork for the pet done) at about 12:00 noon. We left the house at
about 1:30, and got to the airport at 2:10.
We had 4 huge dufflebags, two hanging bags, one box (small book box) and
the animals (two dogs and three cats) that we checked. We then had only my
briefcase, my computer, the boombox, our HUGE (usually
checked) suitcase, to carry-on. I think that
this will become the rule rather than the exception for international
travel (NO ONE was asked to check any of their stuff at the gate.). After
paying for excess baggage ($330) we made our way to the gate.We had a nice
two hour wait, ending with a teary goodbye with Joanne Gillock and her
baby, James.
The night before we left we had one last get together at 420 West 23rd
Street. Ree & Quinn, Bill & Joanne & James, and David Chandler were there.
It was very similar to many other evenings we had had before, except that
this one was the last. We had no furniture (Moving that stuff is another
whole story) so we sat on the floor and on borrowed chairs. We lasted until
about 11:00, and could take no more.
(NB: This is all being written while sitting on the patio,
since we have no chairs.) The first night here was mostly sleepless. I was
able to arrange for a mattress to be delivered to the house, and a short
one it is! We did not get settled until about 2:00 AM, and the the
unfamiliar noises (Jungle noises) tend to keep you awake.
I went to the office today for about 4 hours. I was told that it looks as
if we will not close some sales that had been forecast. In one day I feel
as if it is my chore here to shut down the Latin American organization. It
is only one day.
Our first day is drawing to a close. I realize that I know very little of
what I need to be successful here. My Spanish (which I was proud of 24
hours ago) is pitiful. I can't even ask a parking attendant for a parking
space! I know nothing of the clients or the culture. I don't know how to
buy groceries or get my shirts cleaned. I don't have a telephone book of
the yellow pages. I don't even have a three pronged outlet in my house.
If someone came to me right now and asked if I wanted to go home, I am not
sure what I would answer. I know that one day is no time to make decisions,
and I know that the learning is part of the adventure. I wanted to write
all this down because you only have one first day, and one time to record
them. I am sure that if I look at this even two weeks from now I will
laugh. At least I hope I will.
love,
dan
===============
===============
May 15, 1993
Dear All,
I am sitting on our Terrace drinking cafe maron, and typing this letter. What a difference a month makes. We received all of our furniture last week, I have my new company car (first one ever for me - and one of the few in Landmark), my Spanish is getting better poco a poco (little by little), and we are starting to know our way around the city. We (should) be getting our cable for TV installed today (English language TV), and we may even make a few sales this quarter. Keep your fingers crossed.
Did I mention that Puff took a powder? He left the first weekend we were here. We were hoping that he would come back, but it has been a month now, and no Puff. Too bad.
Last weekend we drove up the Avila (The mountain behind our house - a national park) to an old hotel (The Hotel Humboldt) that was built in the 50's by the last dictator. There was also a cable car that went from Caracas (elevation 900m) to the Hotel (elevation 2400m) and down to the Littoral (beach) (elevation 0m) The cable broke on the Caracas to Hotel leg about 10 years ago and they have not yet got it fixed. (They do not believe in preventive maintenance here). The hotel has been closed for many years as well - the only way you can get up is 4 wheel dive - but you can get tours. There are only 70 rooms, but what a great view. You can see the Caribbean on one side, and the city of Caracas on the other. Quite spectacular. The hotel looks like it was built in the 50's by a dictator. I ate an empanada from a vendor at the summit, and got sicker than a dog that night.
We drove down the other side of the Avila to the beach. I am not sure why people like to 4 wheel drive just for the fun of it. If you need to GET somewhere, that is one thing, but to do it for fun is too hard on my kidneys. the beaches look pretty nice. We didn't stay there too long.
The car I have is a new Jeep Cherokee Limited. It is kind of like Ree's car. I have only driven it from the dealer home - so I can't say too much about it. It is red wine colored, with fog lights, kangaroo bars, roof rack, and more. It has an alarm system, PLUS a padlock that locks the transmission in reverse, PLUS a lock that locks the brake and clutch together. (The insurance company will not insure it without the two padlocks) There is a kill switch on the alarm, as well as a special valet switch that lets the car run for about 15 minutes and then kills everything. (A flock of eight macaws just flew over the house.) It also has a fancy radio that may get stolen. This will be one of the vehicles that we use to drive down to the Amazon.
Some of our stuff was damaged in the move, but by and large it came through OK. I still think that we will sell almost everything we own down here and move very little. It is astounding how much stuff you can accumulate. We must have 100 glasses for example. I guess that is a result of staying in one place for a long time. I have reached the conclusion that it is better to have stocks than stuff.
Some of our stuff was damaged in the move, but by and large it came through OK. I still think that we will sell almost everything we own down here and move very little. It is astounding how much stuff you can accumulate. We must have 100 glasses for example. I guess that is a result of staying in one place for a long time. I have reached the conclusion that it is better to have stocks than stuff.
I now have my old computer set up, and we should have the house finished in another week or so. This moving stuff is for the birds. As I said above, and before, sell or give away all of your stuff. Life is simpler that way.
We may have our dedicated line between Houston and Caracas up next week. If so, I mat be able to get back on GEnie. That will be good if I can. Watch for more news.
Chau.
dan
No comments:
Post a Comment