Today I swept and mopped the floor. I used scouring powder to clean the bathroom sink, toilet and shower. I did what is called in Spanish “limpieza” or “cleaning.”

But when I heard the word “limpieza” yesterday I shuddered. The person saying the word was coming from Colombia and was speaking about what he felt was necessary to bring peace to the country.

    Since learning of the assassination of the FARC leader, Raul Reyes, in Ecuador Saturday morning, my mind has been spinning.

Today I have been thinking about how much easier is the work of a photographer than that of a writer.  One snaps a picture and the picture is there; the writer has to assemble words to try to convey the same image.  Even short stories require hundreds of individual words, each carrying a variety of meanings and interpretations.

When people ask me about the relationship between the Roman Catholic Church and Venezuelan President Hugo Chávez, I respond that the Church is very supportive of him.

    In the last six months, three books have appeared on the market that I believe form an excellent introduction to recent Venezuelan history.

I don’t remember what year it was and I don’t know where I was at the time. Was I in a church, a park, an outdoor amphitheatre, or standing alongside the Union Pacific railroad tracks in Cheyenne, Wyoming, as a white train passed by carrying nuclear warheads? All I remember is holding the hands of others and swaying together as we sang the words from John Lennon’s song, “All we are saying / is give peace a chance.”

Today, almost forty years after Lennon first wrote those words, I hear a similar refrain echoing in my mind in Venezuela.

As I write this, I am looking at a Venezuelan newspaper, El Diario, from February 10, 1992. The editorial that would have occupied half of page 2 is missing. Page 4 is completely blank. The contents were censored by the government of the then president Carlos Andres Perez.

With only twelve days left before the December 3 Venezuelan presidential elections, the newspaper with the largest national circulation had as its major front page story: overweight women have a hard time finding clothes that fit them. Two days later, the principal headline informed the nation that the “hallaca,” a traditional Venezuelan Christmas meal, would be more expensive this year than last year in the government sponsored markets.

Four years ago a Catholic priest in Venezuela said that if the press were the lifeblood of democracy, then Venezuela needed a transfusion.

Today I saw a segment of the June 7 edition of Lou Dobbs Tonight on CNN. If this program is representative of news reporting in the U.S., I would have to say the same about the state of democracy in the United States.

When I lived in the Caracas barrio of Nueva Tacagua, I had a neighbor, Mrs. America. Yes, that was her name, Señora América. I think she might have been in her forties or fifties but she appeared to be in her late nineties. She was also crazy.

“Writing is a lonely job.   Having someone who believes in you makes a lot of difference.  They don’t have to make speeches.  Just believing is usually enough.”  --Stephen King.

I have only read one book by Stephen King.  I may never read another.  It is not that I have anything against Mr. King.  I actually consider him a friend, although we have never met.  It is simply that I don’t like horror stories.

That dislike probably goes back to my childhood.  My older sisters used to listen to a weekly radio program, Inner Sanctum Mysteries.  It was on the air in the early evening and began with the sound of a screechy door.  I would cover my ears and ask them to shut it off.  They laughed and never did.  And I?  I continued to hear that damn door until the next morning when I awoke.