ANALYSIS
Before I traveled to Venezuela to help with earthquake relief, I carried certain expectations with me. I went to help with Operation Blessing, the humanitarian organization I’m privileged to lead. Like a lot of Americans, most of what I knew about Venezuela came from headlines.
Years of stories about political turmoil, economic collapse, and government dysfunction had quietly shaped the picture in my mind. I expected to find a country running on “empty.” I expected suspicion and a harsh welcome. What I actually found was something else entirely.
I found one of the most beautiful countries I’ve ever set foot in. And more than that, I found some of the most resilient, generous people I’ve ever had the privilege of meeting. In community after community, I watched neighbors care for neighbors while having almost nothing themselves.
Taxi drivers drove 10 hours just to volunteer on search-and-rescue teams at ground zero. Families who had lost their own homes showed up to help clear the rubble from someone else’s. Churches threw open their doors, and their volunteers worked until 2 a.m. to hand out emergency supplies and tens of thousands of hot meals that we prepared in an industrial kitchen that we’d taken ownership of.
Operation Blessing is providing disaster relief to earthquake victims in Venezuela. Click here to help.
The first responders there weren’t all outsiders; the vast majority were Venezuelans.
Watching all of this unfold forced me to sit with something harder. Before our team ever deployed, I heard from people who questioned whether Americans should help Venezuela at all, given its politics.
Some suggested the government had brought these troubles on itself. Others simply couldn’t untangle the humanitarian crisis from the political headlines. I understand those concerns, I do. But having stood among families who had lost everything, I can tell you with certainty that we have to separate politics from people.
The children sleeping outside because their homes collapsed didn’t create their country’s political problems. The parents combing through debris for family photographs aren’t responsible for government policy. The volunteers giving up their own time to help strangers aren’t asking anyone to endorse a political system. They’re simply asking for compassion.
History is full of moments when Americans have extended a hand to people living under governments very different from our own. We’ve fed the hungry, cared for the sick, and answered the call after disaster, because that’s who we are, not because we approved of every government involved. Humanitarian aid has always been about people first. That’s exactly what I witnessed in Venezuela.
What surprised me most wasn’t the destruction, or even the resilience. It was the warmth. Everywhere we went, people thanked us for coming. They expressed a genuine affection for Americans. They had no interest in politics. They were simply grateful that someone cared enough to stand beside them in one of the darkest moments of their lives.
It reminded me that ordinary people around the world have far more in common than the nightly news would ever suggest. They love their children. They worry about their families. They celebrate with neighbors. They grieve together after tragedy. And when disaster strikes, so many of them instinctively reach out to help one another, even when they’ve suffered tremendous loss themselves.
I left Venezuela with a very different perspective than the one I brought with me. The headlines had prepared me to see a political story. What I found instead was a human one.
One conversation has stayed with me since I came home. I learned that some Venezuelans are still displaced from the 1999 Vargas tragedy, one of the deadliest natural disasters in the country’s history. More than a quarter-century later, the effects of that catastrophe are still shaping lives today.
It was a sobering reminder that while disasters make headlines for a few days or weeks, recovery is measured in years, sometimes in generations. The families hit by this latest earthquake are staring down that same long road. Once the cameras leave and the world’s attention moves on, they’ll still need safe places to live, schools to reopen, jobs to return, and communities to rebuild.
Operation Blessing is providing disaster relief to earthquake victims in Venezuela. Click here to help.
We can’t solve every challenge facing Venezuela. But we can decide not to forget its people. Whether you choose to volunteer, support your church’s relief efforts, or give to a trusted humanitarian organization, your compassion can help make sure this tragedy doesn’t become another forgotten chapter in a family’s story.
Governments may divide us. Human suffering shouldn’t. The people I met in Venezuela reminded me that hope is built one act of kindness at a time. And it’s my prayer that we’ll keep showing up for them long after the headlines fade.
Drew Friedrich is president of Operation Blessing, CBN’s global humanitarian organization currently on the ground helping in Venezuela.
