A tree that can dial the world
Any time Margara Bermudez has to make a call, she rides her motorcycle to a tree about five minutes away from her home in a small town on the outskirts of the oil-rich city of Maracaibo.
That’s the only place where there’s enough signal for her cellphone to work.
Residents of Los Puertos de Altagracia have figured out that the spot is somehow a refuge from the growing dead zones that leave them unreachable most of the time, the result of a popular crime in the crumbling nation: Stealing and vandalizing cellular antennas.
So the tree, which always offered a welcome shade in heat that regularly surpasses 30 C, now fills up even at night, illuminated by people answering texts.
Documents indicate there have been at least 2,000 attacks on Venezuela’s network of 6,000 cellphone antennas in the last three years.
The number includes incidents of vandalism — picking the equipment for parts, which can be resold — and outright theft.
In 2018 alone, Telefonica subsidiary Movistar, the country’s second biggest operator, has reported 536 stolen.
The robberies are adding pressure to companies struggling to survive amid soaring inflation, capped prices and a communications system plagued by rolling blackouts that are leaving millions of Venezuelans who live in smaller cities stranded.
“We are isolated, we are even distancing ourselves from our family. They complain that I don’t call them, but how can I?” Bermudez said from the famous tree.
When she needs to make an online bank transfer, she drives there and calls her sister in Caracas to help her. Often, the call cuts off after just a few seconds.
State-run Movilnet, the country’s leading operator, and privately owned Digitel have also been hit by the crime wave.
The equipment stolen, which is often shared by the companies, is later resold for high fees, including power supply cables, copper parts and electronic components, according to documents seen by Bloomberg.
For companies, replacing that stolen equipment has become increasingly difficult.
The government hasn’t delivered subsidized dollars for imports following the collapse in the price of oil, its main source of revenue.
That, combined with the cap on what they can charge — Movistar’s top mobile internet plan is about 100 bolivars, or some $0.15 at the black market rate, compared to a $17 price tag for a similar plan offered by the firm in neighbouring Colombia — leaves them with no money to invest or improve technology.
Hundreds of miles away, Alexandra Bellester is facing pretty much the same issues. Her rural town of El Portal de Los Morros, some 80 kilometres from Caracas has few landlines and zero-to-no cellphone signal. “We have to climb trees or get up on the roofs of some houses to get a steady signal,” she said.