Virus prevents diaspora from sending money home
CARACAS (AP):
AFTER FLEEING Venezuela along with millions of others amid the country’s gruelling humanitarian crisis, Misael Cocho made his way by bus to Peru – where he got odd jobs and sent money home monthly to support his mother and his five-year-old son.
But just after Cocho landed his steadiest work so far in Lima, coronavirus cases skyrocketed. He lost his job, sold his TV to buy food, and hasn’t been able to wire money for months to Caracas to pay for food for the boy and Cocho’s mother.
The pandemic’s economic fallout left many Venezuelans abroad, and the relatives back home who rely on them, in dire straits. And as work disappears in countries like Peru and Colombia, humanitarian groups say many Venezuelans who fled hunger are now going hungry.
Cocho, 24, faces a dilemma: Should he stay in Peru in case the economy improves, or go back to Caracas, where life is precarious but might not get worse?
“The truth is that this pandemic has really hit me hard,” he said.
Venezuela’s population peaked at 30 million in 2015, but five million, alarmed at the country’s economic implosion, migrated elsewhere in South America and to the US and Europe, according to the UN’s International Organization for Migration. Most who stayed behind get by on a minimum wage that’s the equivalent of about $2 a month.
About half of the Venezuelans who emigrated to other South American countries are so-called ‘informal’ sector workers – labourers, vendors, street performers and waiters, estimated Provash Budden, regional Americas director for the Mercy Corps humanitarian aid group. Those jobs were hit hard by the virus’ economic impact and there are few, if any, social safety nets to help the people who had them.
COVID-19 CASES
Venezuela has so far reported only 402 cases of the new coronavirus and 10 COVID-19 deaths. Experts believe the actual number is much higher because so little testing has been done, and the type of testing does not reveal recent infections.
In Caracas, Cocho’s mother, Maylin Pérez, 48, says the potential spread of the virus weighs on her heavily.
She lives up several flights of stairs in a spartan, three-room apartment with old photos of her son on the walls. Cocho last sent his mother $10 in a February wire transfer that helped buy groceries.
So she knits colourful face masks to barter for extras besides the lentils and rice from a monthly, government-subsidised box of food she usually eats with her grandson. They can’t afford eggs, cheese or meat.
Pérez said the highlights of her days are the text messages from her son, who also calls every few days so the son can hear his father’s voice.
She said she tries to convince Cocho he shouldn’t worry about not sending money because she’s more concerned about him getting infected.
“Take care of yourself,” she said she tells him. “Your first priority is your health, your life.”

