Written by Regina Garcia Cano
Venezuela’s MARACAIBO (AP) Tens of thousands of the aluminum round gridles that Venezuelan families use to cook arepas each day were created by Yosbelin P. Rez. Despite selling kitchenware for years, she has nothing to her name, despite taking great delight in creating the famed budare, which unites city apartments and rural cottages with tin roofs.
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Because she and her family were unable to go to the United States, where they had hoped to flee Venezuela’s deeply ingrained political, social, and economic crises, Prez actually owes roughly $5,000. As the situation deepens, they are now beginning anew, much like the thousands of Venezuelans who have returned to their nation this year, whether voluntarily or in some other way.
I sold everything when I made the decision to move out in August, including my house, possessions, car, and all of my production molds and sand. Prez, 30, said at her in-laws’ house in western Venezuela, “I had nothing left.” I said, “Let’s go!” when President Donald Trump took office in January after we had been in Mexico for seven months.
In March, she went back to her South American nation with her spouse and five kids.
Since 2013, when Venezuela’s oil-dependent economy collapsed, over 7.7 million people have left the nation. After the COVID-19 pandemic, migrants considered the United States as their best opportunity to improve their living conditions, although the majority settled in Latin America and the Caribbean.
Numerous Venezuelans came to the United States under programs that protected them from deportation and enabled them to get work permits. However, as U.S. President Donald Trump has been implementing his campaign pledge to restrict immigration to the United States, the White House has terminated protections for immigrants and actively pursued their deportations since January.
Earlier this year, under pressure from the White House, Venezuelan President Nicolas Madurohad reversed his long-standing refusal to repatriate deported Venezuelans. Today, flights run by Venezuela’s state-owned airline or a U.S. government contractor frequently bring immigrants to the airport outside the city, Caracas.
By claiming that many of the immigrants were members of the deadly Tren de Aragua street gang, the U.S. administration has justified its audacious actions, such as confining more than 200 Venezuelans to a prison in El Salvador for four months. The administration did not support the broad charge with any proof. Nonetheless, a number of recently deported foreign nationals have claimed that American officials misjudged their tattoos and used them as justification for their deportation.
A currency crisis, triple-digit inflation, and low wages have made food and other necessities costly, let alone the car, house, and electronics they sold before moving, so many people returning home—like Prez and her family—are finding their living conditions worse than when they left. Since 2022, Venezuela has not raised its minimum wage, which is currently 130 bolivars per month, or $1.02 as of Monday. To make ends meet, people usually work two, three, or more jobs.
Maduro even declared an economic emergency in April as a result of this most recent episode in the 12-year disaster.
Before deciding to try to reach the United States, David Rodriguez moved to Peru and Colombia twice. Last year, he left Venezuela, trekked across the perilous Darien Gap, reached Central America, and traveled throughout Mexico on buses, trains, and foot. In December, he surrendered to U.S. immigration officials, but after being held for 15 days, he was sent back to Mexico.
Rodriguez, 33, was broke and drove a mototaxi in Mexico City until he scraped up enough cash in March to purchase a plane ticket back to Venezuela.
He stated, sitting at a relative’s house in Caracas, “Going to the United States was a total setback.” At the moment, my only option is to pay off my debt.
He purchased a motorcycle to work as a mototaxi driver, and he is required to pay $50 per week for it. He claimed that while he can make $150 in a good week, there are other weeks when his income is barely enough to cover the $50 payment.
After being deported, several migrants went to pastry and beauty schools or started working as food delivery drivers. Other people have already moved to Spain. Many looked for loan sharks.
In order for the family to earn a living, Prez’s brother-in-law, who also manufactured aluminum cookware prior to moving last year, is letting her use the oven and other appliances he left in his Maracaibo house. However, the majority of her income is used to pay the $1,000 loan’s 40% monthly interest charge.
As if the debt weren’t enough, Prez now has to deal with the very thing that made her leave: extortion.
Prez claimed that after spending several hours in police custody in June 2024 for refusing to give an officer $1,000, she and her family left Maracaibo. In exchange for allowing her to continue running her illegal cookware business in her garden, the officer knocked on her house and demanded the money, according to Prez.
She claimed that when she returned, police found her and made a demand for cash.
From day to day, I work to earn a living. Last week, some guardsmen showed up. Prez stated that she was informed in early July, “Look, you have to stand by me.”
Therefore, others also show up if I don’t offer them any money. I sent him $5. If you don’t have more than $5, they will fight you.
