海角大神

Diana Feli煤 was studying for a master鈥檚 in business administration when she decided her future in Venezuela was reaching a dead end.

There weren鈥檛 opportunities at home, where inflation 鈥� making professional salaries, if she could find a job, nearly worthless.

So, in 2014, she left: conducting her thesis abroad, presenting her dissertation via Skype, and asking her mother to walk in her graduation ceremony, receiving Ms. Feli煤鈥檚 diploma on her behalf.聽

鈥淚n a way, I feel like Venezuela kicked me out. That鈥檚 a feeling a lot of my peers share,鈥� says Ms. Feli煤, who moved to Mexico in 2015 and found a job within three months. She鈥檚 since married, had a child, and gained Mexican citizenship.

鈥淚t鈥檚 not that I dreamed all my life to leave Venezuela: I had to leave more out of necessity than out of desire.鈥�

Ms. Feli煤 is one of the Venezuelans who have fled the country in recent years amid multilayered economic, humanitarian, and political crises, rapidly accelerating a nearly two-decade trend. Professional fields 鈥� from doctors to teachers to lawyers 鈥� have been gutted, observers say, with reportedly leaving Venezuela over the past five years alone.

January brought the first signal of a possible transition of power, when National Assembly leader Juan Guaid贸 declared President Nicol谩s Maduro鈥檚 most recent election invalid and called for fresh elections, making himself acting president. He received overwhelming international support聽and sparked a glimmer of hope in many Venezuelans.

But the possibility of change has prompted tough discussions over how to rebuild a country that鈥檚 lost so many professionals. Many question how Venezuela can move ahead with such depleted human capital.

鈥淭his is more than brain drain. Generations of people effectively trained and contributing or ready to contribute to the country have been forced to leave,鈥� says Francesca Ramos, director of the Observatory on Venezuela at Rosario University in neighboring Colombia. 鈥淚t鈥檚 a huge loss, and it鈥檚 very possible that a really, really high number won鈥檛 return鈥� home.聽

From immigration to emigration

For decades, Venezuela served as a beacon for higher education and high-skilled labor in the region.

鈥淰enezuela was one of the first countries in Latin America to have an important number of doctors. It had the muscle of the oil state to encourage that kind of training,鈥� says Dr. Ramos. She struggles to think of countries with similar experiences that could serve as a road map for Venezuela鈥檚 rebuilding, saying 鈥渋t鈥檚 such a unique scenario.鈥澛�

Carlos, who asked not to use his full name because he still has family in Venezuela, left with his wife and small child in 2017 after a 14-year career in medicine: serving as a department head in one of Venezuela鈥檚 largest public hospitals, teaching aspiring doctors at a national university, and practicing in a private clinic. Shortages were serious before President Hugo Ch谩vez died in 2013, he remembers, but the situation got exponentially worse.

鈥淚 would see patients and just feel impotent,鈥� he says by telephone from Switzerland, where he鈥檚 lived for the past 1 1/2 years. 鈥淚 couldn鈥檛 even make a decision because the hospital had no money, patients had no money, there were no antibiotics, and I became this observer of death instead of a doctor. That鈥檚 not what I studied for.鈥�

When his youngest son was born in 2014, the weight of what was happening in Venezuela touched him in new ways. 鈥淚 couldn鈥檛 forgive myself for a future where my son had any kind of medical need and I couldn鈥檛 do anything. I knew 鈥� I saw it every day in my work 鈥� that I was putting my son at risk鈥� by remaining in Venezuela.

That鈥檚 not to say leaving was an easy decision聽鈥撀爋r transition.

鈥淚 remember conversations with friends where I said I wouldn鈥檛 leave the country because we needed to keep training new doctors at the university so that once things improved we could reconstruct the country,鈥� he recalls. 鈥淔or many, many years, I felt an immense responsibility to stay.鈥� But by the time he left, his 12- to 14-hour workdays were barely earning him $100 per month.

Among professionals who have stayed in Venezuela, lifestyles have changed so drastically over the past decade 鈥� and particularly in the past five years 鈥� that the middle class has been gutted, says Armando Gagliardi, an economist at the Caracas-based consulting firm Ecoanal铆tica.

鈥淭heir income has been devalued so much that almost 80 percent of what they earn is spent on food. That is traditionally the [spending pattern] of the lower class,鈥� Mr. Gagliardi says.

Uncertain road to return

But as professionals flee,聽their emigration has consequences for Venezuela today聽鈥� and likely tomorrow.聽

Anytime someone wants to visit a dentist or a doctor, the first question is 鈥溾�楢re they still here?鈥� 鈥� says David Smilde, a sociology professor at Tulane University, who splits his time between New Orleans and Caracas. 鈥淯sually you find that they aren鈥檛. You can鈥檛 count on your normal network.鈥澛�

鈥淭he fact that Venezuela is left without these professionals compromises the functioning of the country. Without them there is no health or education,鈥� says Mr. Gagliardi. There are also fewer consumers, creating a damaging trickle-down effect for commerce or street vendors. And finding and retaining employees is increasingly difficult, as people continue to leave.

Their return is key for development, Dr. Smilde says. 鈥淭here need to be programs to motivate people to come back.鈥�

President Maduro鈥檚 has sponsored repatriation for families unable to afford tickets home. The opposition is discussing the need for incentives for citizens to return as well.

Even if Venezuela turns a new political or economic corner, though, many Venezuelan expatriates say the work that goes into setting up new careers and lives abroad means they wouldn鈥檛 run home.

Carlos, the doctor, says his family is privileged 鈥� his wife is Swiss, which allowed them to move abroad and work. But he can鈥檛 practice medicine again until he learns Swiss German and sits for required exams, which he expects to take at least another year.聽

鈥淲e鈥檙e asked all the time if we鈥檒l go back. The idea obviously never leaves my mind or my heart,鈥� he says, but doesn鈥檛 foresee it anytime soon. Aside from a new political direction, Venezuela will have to rebuild its institutions, he says. 鈥淭he social deterioration won鈥檛 be resolved with a change in government.鈥�

Alejandro Armas, a lawyer who specialized in public administrative law and left Venezuela in 2015, says maybe in the future he and his wife, now living in Buenos Aires, Argentina, could return home.

鈥淚f someone calls me to say, 鈥楲ook, we need you in Venezuela to reestablish our administrative or tribunal law,鈥� I would go running. But my wife wouldn鈥檛 follow,鈥� at least not anytime soon. Vacation seems like the most likely reason to return in the short to medium term, say several Venezuelans who fled.

But Dr. Smilde says that if Venezuela sees some kind of transition soon, he鈥檇 expect more than 50 percent of the exodus to return 鈥� especially older professionals, families, and people who can鈥檛 find work abroad 鈥渋n what they were trained for,鈥� he says, mentioning an architect friend in Miami who now does odd jobs in home repair. 鈥淭hose are the people that would come back as soon as they could.鈥�

The longer the crises drag on, the less likely rapid returns will be. But it may not be the end for Venezuela if citizens don鈥檛 immediately return home, Dr. Ramos says.

鈥淚n this global world, there are human flows that could provide a way to help Venezuela forward,鈥� she says. 鈥淚f it returns to democracy, Venezuela could become a country of opportunity鈥� for other countries鈥� migrants and refugees.聽

Mariana Zu帽iga contributed reporting from Caracas, Venezuela.