By Rachel Morenz
Before arriving in Venezuela, I knew that the country was famous for its production of beauty queens, boasting the highest number of international beauty contest winners within the past 50 years in the entire world.
I anticipated perhaps watching a few beauty pageants out of curiosity, but I did not think high Venezuelan beauty standards would personally affect me.
I will admit that I didn't consider myself a striking beauty prior to my arrival, but I thought I cared for my body and appearance in a way that made me feel both healthy and like a reasonably attractive young woman with my own distinct sense of style.
After my arrival, I quickly learned that my casual, minimal makeup wearing style was quite the aberration.
Two-weeks after meeting my new Venezuelan friend, Daniellys, she pulled me aside and said, "You are pretty. But, you could be so much more beautiful if you wore more makeup, cut your hair differently, wore high-heels, and tighter clothing."
"Don't worry, I will help you." Within a few days, I received the same advice from Elian. Then from Natalia. Then from Emilia.
At first, I resented their advice. I was offended and wished they would get to know me more as a person before they commented on my appearance. However, I decided it wouldn't hurt to try to acculturate a bit more.
Thus, I cut my hair, went shopping, and learned how to put enough makeup on to make me look like a porcelain doll.
I still refused to wear heels. Rachel Venezuela was born. My new look was rewarded with gushing comments. I was delighted to finally feel like I fit in, feel less gringa, but did I feel like a more worthy and accomplished woman? No.
The importance of physical beauty in Venezuelan culture, an importance that borders on obsession, continues to perplex me.
A recent study by the U.S. market research firm, Roger Starch Worldwide, found that Venezuelans spend about 1/5 of their incomes on beauty products, making them one of Latin America's biggest spenders on cosmetic products, spending 1/3 more than Argentines, and 43 percent more than their neighbors, the Colombians.
Yet, about 31 percent of Venezuelans live in poverty, according to the 2007 - 2008 UN Human Development Report.
Does this mean that Venezuelan culture is shallow and full of misplaced priorities?
Initially, I had my doubts. Nevertheless, as I have spent more time with those friends who originally advised me on my appearance, it has become clear that their values are anything but shallow.
They are incredibly caring, intelligent, and ambitious people who definitely don't just prioritize surface-level beauty.
For example, they are very concerned about the fact that a constitutional amendment passed last month legalizing the indefinite re-election of Chavez.
They feel that their country may slip into a dictatorship, taking away much of Venezuela's possibility for progress, limiting their own personal freedoms and accomplishments in the process.
The Venezuelan beauty "obsession" is not the root cause of their country's problems by any means.
In fact, many beauty pageant contestants enter these competitions as a means to rise out of poverty. The winning titles usually secure them stable, high paying jobs, as was the case for former Venezuelan Miss Universe, Irene Saez.
She became a mayor and then a presidential candidate, being defeated by Chavez in 1998. But, beauty contest winners are few.
There are millions of Venezuelan women, and the question remains: what would happen if that money and energy spent on fine-tuning beauty were instead funneled into say, education?
