Back to the Country: Chacao, Caracas, Venezuela, February 2026

More than a week has passed since I returned to Caracas.

Already it feels as though my wonderful journey through Lima, Montevideo, Colonia del Sacramento, and Panama happened long ago — like a chapter I finished reading and then slowly carried in my pocket. Yet whenever I open the photo galleries from that trip, I am again carried away by memory: the light on the ocean cliffs in Lima, the slow river light in Montevideo, the cobblestone curves of Colonia at dusk, and the familiar streets of Panama that seemed to welcome me back with quiet warmth.

🇵🇦 Panama
Even a brief stay there felt like returning to an old conversation. Casco Viejo’s pastel façades, balconies that lean gently into time, and the soft, forgiving quality of light at dusk made me feel seen by the city rather than merely passing through. Walking Avenida Balboa and letting the Pacific stretch its vast calm before me felt like inhaling deeply — the way you breathe when you first wake and realise you slept soundly.

Panama photos: https://photos.app.goo.gl/C3MkWdfQmuFyHjwE8.

🇵🇪 Lima
Three days in Lima taught me how a city can unfold slowly if you are willing to walk with no destination in mind. In Miraflores, mornings began quietly, tree-lined streets filtering sunlight and cafés waking with gentle rhythm. Then the land dropped away to the Pacific below — a presence more than a view — and I stood for longer than I expected, watching waves shape themselves into patterns of calm repetition. Barranco felt like a place that remembers its own stories, each narrow street and balcony whispering histories I was only beginning to hear.

Lima photos: https://photos.app.goo.gl/FwN4vSnLzoZcEXSp9.

🇺🇾 Montevideo and Colonia del Sacramento
Montevideo was a slow unfolding, like finding your footing inside a different kind of quiet. The rambla along the river that stretches and pretends to be an ocean welcomed me with its open pace — walkers, mate flasks, dogs, light shifting slowly across water. Guided strolls through Ciudad Vieja and markets where voices rise and settle made me appreciate how ordinary life, lived generously, shapes a city’s heart. And Colonia del Sacramento, with its timeless cobblestones and warm dusk light, felt like stepping into a memory I hadn’t yet lived but somehow recognised.

Uruguay photos: https://photos.app.goo.gl/2S2KjPqdSWTcDp6W6

It was a solo trip — not out of solitude, but out of that rare, quiet freedom that comes when you travel by yourself. I like travelling with people, and I treasure shared explorations. But there is something about wandering new places alone — and returning to familiar ones in that way too — that makes you feel more fully engaged with your own thoughts, with the world as it moves around you, and with the subtle unfolding of your own self. It left me happy, refreshed, and invigorated — as though something inside me had been gently tuned before returning to the usual rhythms of life in Caracas.

And I am enjoying my time here a lot.

Caracas is not just a home base; it is home in the way certain cities quietly become part of you. I have wonderful friends here, and I appreciate every shared meal, every conversation that stretches long into the evening, every unexpected moment of laughter. Even when I get tired — and I do at times — there is a deep sense of belonging in this city that I am grateful for.

We are not entering a calm period at work — but the pace is different now. We are in the midst of allocating funds for our projects in 2026 and beyond — a huge amount of work that demands careful reading of proposals, thoughtful analysis, and difficult decisions about where our resources will make the best impact. It is challenging, dense work, and often not easy. Yet it is engaging in ways that make me feel grounded in purpose. This is a very interesting time — demanding, yes, but also rich with possibilities.

Even as some of these plans still seem distant, my thoughts turn gently toward what comes next.

I find myself thinking about my next deployment in Ethiopia — about moving to Addis Ababa, about how the city has changed since my last visit, about the rhythms of life there, and about the work that will unfold in that chapter. I have been reading, learning, preparing quietly in the background of each day. Already I have a feeling of how things may go, though of course the reality will have its own shape and pace. But before that chapter begins, there are still months here — hopefully with trips to the field across Venezuela, to see and evaluate our projects where they live, on the ground, with the people they touch.

Then in June, I will be heading to Brussels, and likely to Poland as well — another kind of return, another reconnection. And after that, there are provisional thoughts in my mind about what I may be doing with my mum and with friends before Ethiopia begins in earnest… but that is a story for another time, when the right moment arrives.

For now, I sit with these memories — letting the quiet of Panama linger a little longer in my bones, letting the images and sounds of strange and familiar streets unfold again in my mind, and letting the slow rhythm of life here in Caracas fold gently around me.