He also lived for a time in a squatters' shack, working on a
project in Carapita, a
Caracas barrio. "When I was studying civil
engineering in college, I met these people who constructed
alternative housing in very poor areas - beautiful houses, but
using cheap, readily available local materials. So I thought, I'm
going to move to a slum, teach construction, and see how far I can
go."
At the time, the answer was not very. "The project had low impact,"
admits Alberto. "I didn't have the clout, so I wasn't able to
attract attention and influence people. But the way I look at it,
that learning in the slum was preparation for now."
One night in February 2000, over 400 families seized a large tract
of the Vollmers' land, across from Hacienda Santa Teresa. Instead
of calling the police to oust the squatters or allowing them to
stay (establishing both a dangerous slum and a dangerous precedent
for future takeovers), Alberto offered to donate 60 acres and
architectural plans to build a 100-home model community, if the
squatters provided the labor to build their own houses. Alberto is
godfather to the grandson of the squatters' Chavista leader.
"Since we had that land invasion here, my theory has been, 'Okay,
invade my territory, I'll invade your mind,' " smiles Alberto.
Proyecto Alcatraz began with a more violent invasion: Three local
gang members ambushed one of Santa Teresa's security guards, beat
him, and stole his gun.
"It's quite a story. Our head of security, Jimin, caught one of the
guys after three days, and took him to the police," Alberto
relates. "But the police here, it's not like the States. They look
on the computer: 'Wanted for this, this, and this. Ah.' The worst
prison you can imagine is the best alternative. Otherwise, they
take you out in the jeep - which means you're dead. Jimin calls me
up and says, 'Listen, the police are taking this guy out to execute
him. Green light or red light?' I said, 'No, no, red light. Bring
him over here.' They didn't want to give him over. But Jimin
finally bought the guy for 50,000 Bolivares. That's something like
23 bucks. Amazing, no? Twenty-three dollars, the difference between
life and death."