When Words Save From Migrant Journalist to Creative Editor of the World

aiyaan

The day my husband and I decided to emigrate from Venezuela will never be erased from my memory. The death of Óscar Pérez , a dissident police official, at the hands of the Government and broadcast Image Manipulation Service live on Periscope, was the trigger for our departure. I was not willing to allow my daughter, barely months old, to grow up in a country where the authorities executed live those who dared to disagree with her policies. MORE INFORMATION A middle-class asylum seeker Venezuelans also migrate Venezuelans arrive in Madrid at a dizzying pace We decided to come to Spain because it was, in part, our natural destiny. My husband is a Spaniard born outside of Spain because his parents were, in turn, Spanish emigrants who chose Venezuela to live. This gave us an advantage, so the issue of legality was not going to be a problem for us. On the other hand,there was the weather. Leaving the Caribbean to any other place is very strong. Being close to the sea, feeling a bit of the warmth of the sun on the shore of the beach and the smell of the sea breeze was a way of not leaving completely. That is why we chose Valencia. I'm a journalist, and although I've worked in media and marketing for many years, doing much of what I do today,

I didn't think it was of any use to me at the time. On the contrary, I thought that I would never exercise my profession in a country other than my own. With no approved degree, no contacts, and no time, the only alternative I saw possible was to invest in a business in which, at least, I could work with my family. So I couldn't think of a better idea than to open a hamburger restaurant in Valencia, in the best style of the streets of Caracas, without experience in hospitality and without a previous analysis of the market I was facing: Who could not like the burgers with avocado, crispy fries, fried egg, tomato, onion and all kinds of delicious sauces? Everything you can imagine, my dear reader, can be found in a Caracas hamburger. Therefore, in my head, nothing could go wrong... This is how I learned my first marketing lesson :never create a service or a product without researching the market you intend to sell to, nor without a project or planning.

The business went to waste just a year later and with it the illusion of bringing the rest of my family to Spain. My brother, who emigrated a few months after me, also lost his job and, along with our efforts, all my savings went. The only one who didn't lose out was my husband, since he found a job as an application developer: an activity much more in demand than being a journalist or a cook. When you emigrate or start running away there is no plan B. There is only plan A I was devastated and entered into a spiral of sadness and despair, because I only had plan A. I was running away, I emigrated running away and, not believing myself capable of penetrating an unknown system, I also started running away. When you emigrate or run away, there is no plan B. There is only plan A and it consists of working whatever hours you want. What if that plan fails you? Well, you destroy the family savings, you feel that you have disappointed everyone and the world is falling apart. In Venezuela we say that if there is something positive in "hitting bottom" it is that the only option you have is to push yourself to the surface, after all