KRISTY RAMNARINE
Kristy.ramnarine@cnc3.co.tt
Andreina Briceño Ventura-Brown, a young, independent journalist, left Venezuela for a better life in Trinidad. About ten years after arriving in the country she was the victim of gun violence during a home invasion, but that did not deter her.
She first visited her family in Trinidad–as her grandmother lived in Belmont–after completing her degree in 2000/2001.
“I had a very bad experience with immigration because I did not fill out the form properly,” she recalled. “I missed out my profession, where I was working, and stuff like that, and they believed I came here to prostitute myself. At that point, because I didn’t know Trinidad, I was not too sure why that happened. I did not understand why they did that to me.”
Despite her experience, Ventura-Brown fell in love with Trinidad during her vacation. “I came here very young, I just finished my degree and came here for holidays to meet my family,” she said.
“I really wanted to learn more about Trinidad, go out and experience the culture. The first thing I noticed was the harassment. When I was walking on the streets they soot (a cat call from men) me. I went back to my country believing I was Miss Universe, my self-esteem went right up.”
After her vacation, Ventura-Brown headed back to Venezuela, but it was not long before she decided to return to Trinidad instead of joining the army.
“At that point, we start to get a lot of difficulties. The system and politics,” she explained. “When I came to live in Trinidad my holiday finished and that’s when I started feeling the harassment ... how men heckle. Why they do that to us? At that point, I had not met any other Venezuelan. I started really missing home.
“When you are so far from your family, my life, I left my radio programme all my life over there and I start to miss everything.”
Vulnerable, Ventura-Brown decided to get married to a Trinidadian man, but the marriage did not turn out to be what she expected. Language and the different cultural practices were her main barriers to integrating into her new home. “It was very hard because being an independent journalist. I was working in a foundation where a lot of things depended on me as well,” she said. “Then I came to live a life where I had to be a housewife, where people wanted me to do certain things. In my previous marriage, I was told you don’t have to have your own home. In my generation when you grow up you want your own space. Or someone has to guide you on what to do and how to do it because you cannot purchase your own stuff. I was like what!
“I used to wear the (wedding) ring on the left-hand side and one day, I saw it on the right-hand side and when I asked (him), I was told no, no, in Trinidad we wear it here (pointing to her right ring finger).” She found out later she was being fooled by her former Trinidadian husband as in T&T the wedding ring is usually worn on the left hand.
After two years, Ventura-Brown decided to get back on her feet. “I started cooking arepas and empanadas and making piñatas,” she said. “In Venezuela, I didn’t do that, but I had taken many short courses.”
It was a phase in her life which brought on depression, especially during the Christmas period. “I had a very beautiful Trinidad family, my family teach me about diversity,” said Ventura-Brown as she starting tearing up.
“I am becoming very emotional,” she added as she wiped the tears from her cheeks.
“My family here are Christian, Muslims, Catholics, and Adventists, and to sit down with everybody at the same table was amazing for me. That time was hard and if it was not for my family I don’t think I would have made it.”
In 2020 Ventura-Brown was faced with another challenge; she was shot during a home invasion in Arima.
“At first I thought it was laughter, I thought my husband was playing with the children,” she said. She ran to see what the screaming was about and saw strangers in her home. “It was the longest two minutes of my life. A guy with a gun and two others were searching the home. I am a Venezuelan, and we were going through so much ... I grow up with very tough brothers. As two of them (bandits) hold my hands and pulled me inside the house, I pulled them back (my hands) and I started fighting back.
“One of them pulled out the gun and shoot me in my shoulder. At first, I didn’t feel anything. Then I felt something start burning me and felt blood. My daughter who was upstairs called her aunt who called the police.”
Ventura-Brown was rushed to the hospital, and it was only when she was being examined she realised her head was busted in two places. “One of the men beat me with the gun on my head,” she said. “I cannot remember. I was just thinking about my family.”
The bullet went through Ventura-Brown’s left shoulder leaving her with a scar on her body. It took her about four months to recover from the shock. “I wanted to leave Trinidad but my family and my community came to my support,” she said. “That four months was hard, I was not going out. I was so afraid. I was ready to leave, and we had to move out from where we were, but someone came to me and said, ‘I have a place to rent.’ The place was empty and there was a lot of repairs to be done.
“It was not a place where I wanted to live, but it looked more like a place for La Casita.” La Casita Hispanic Cultural Centre–a refugee and migrant-led community-based organisation–was started by Ventura-Brown in 2017.
La Casita was first located in Port-of-Spain but during COVID the rent became difficult to pay. Post-COVID Ventura-Brown began programmes from her home before reopening La Casita in Arima.
So they started refurbishing the building in Arima to house the NGO.
“The community came out and said we will help, we will give you talents,” she said. “The community was so attached we had guys who were doing the gypsum walls, carpenters, engineers who were here gave us guidance.”
So many people came to help restore the building, she added, “I said it was not time for me to leave.”
Ventura-Brown described La Casita as “a home for those who need it.”
“I started the first bilingual magazine in Trinidad and Tobago after I started doing bilingual camps. After that, I wanted to start doing it permanently. Teach people Spanish and English. The idea was to teach people more about the Venezuelan culture, so there would be more respect and integration.”
Apart from emphasising community engagement through cultural and social activity, La Casita provides support services and case management services for victims of Gender-Based Violence (GBV).
