Ok, so hang around, have a seat and I’ll tell you. Sometime around September I made a post blog somewhere, as I recall, but now I feel it was a bit sketchy and loaded with a lot of negative feeling. I’ll try to be a little more clinical about it. Picture me as Mr. Spock doing a show and tell in a Vulcan school, will ya? I’m figuring to make these a regular feature in this blog, so you may want to drop by every once in a while.Ok, but first…
Allow me to introduce myself: The name is Edwin Stark, and I’m an indie writer. Whoa! Don’t stand from your seats, as I’m not intending to shower you with a self-promo about my books! This is just so you can focus on my humble persona a little better, ok?Now, back to our original schedule. I live in Cholondron, a failed housing development in the outskirts of Caucagua, Venezuela ( 10°16′56″N 66°22′38″ W ), which in itself is in the outskirts of Caracas. This places me in a place nearly 50 miles away from civilization. (If you believe that Caucagua, seven miles away, is civilization, drop around awhile and I’ll do my best to change your mind). This place is so backward that not even TV or radio signals properly blanket the area; I’m able to connect to the Internet just because the recent advances in cellular phone technology allows me to plug a gadget to my PC that allows it. More on this in future blog post, ok?
Basically, Cholondron is a housing development that’s just a hard packed dirt road that makes its way into a solid block of rainforest jungle; whenever it rains (which is usually for 3 or more days in a row) this lane becomes a foot-thick trail of slippery clay mud that literally turns me incommunicado until it dries out. This makes me border the jungle; it truly starts a dozen yards away from my backyard fence. Why a dozen yards? This is the stretch of land I have to constantly clear to build a fire line to protect my home from the intense forest fires that occasionally may happen during droughts. Dry seasons are scarce down here, but I must clear this stretch of jungle with a machete once every weekend, because the encroaching vegetation grows so rapidly that you dare not blink your eyes at it: blink, and it has grown a couple of inches overnight. It does bring a new meaning to the phrase watching grass grow, doesn’t it? If I don’t control this, I risk that any dying vegetation will practically lead any fires towards my house and me during dry seasons. I was nearly killed twice in the past decade due this, so this a danger I don’t intend to face again.
The temperature doesn’t go lower that the 80s all year long (in summers it casually reaches the 100s.. and in August it may go as high as 110s. This, coupled to the vicinity of the rainforest, with the constant drizzles it generates, makes humidity a terrible annoyance. How annoying? The needle of the hygrometer set on the wall is set in the area of that tells you that the air humidity is near 70 percent. To tell the truth, I think that it’s glued by rust to the small metal peg that doesn’t allow the needle go beyond that point: I’ve never seen it separated from that spot.
Ok, I think I bored you enough with my ramblings. You may as well stand from your seats because the promo time is about to start, but only to tell you this: If you want further updates from my life in the jungle, you can follow me in Twitter as @TheEdwinStark