Colombie-Vénézuela, sur la frontière des carteIs de la drogue - Les routes de l'impossible

Wyoming, William worked the land and raised goats. It's been two years since I ran away. Before that I was a pastor. I inherited the flock from my grandparents. Today the goats have disappeared, destroyed by the drought. William prepares to deliver gasoline purchased the day before in Vene

zuela

. First of all, he fixes the first two cans well. 120 liters. Then we add a third can and we have 180 liters. I can't put much gas in my motorcycle. It is not in very good condition. That's why we inflate the tires a little. It is always dangerous to ride a bike in the desert.

With sand we can easily fall and get seriously hurt. All the men in the family participate in the business. On five motorcycles they managed to transport almost 900 liters of gasoline every day. If the police catch them, they will confiscate their property and equipment. But the Wayuu have an advantage. They know the terrain by heart, the hidden trails in the cactus center. A real labyrinth. The last kilometers are the most dangerous because here the convoy has no other option. He must take the road with his patrols of soldiers and police. Are you afraid of being caught by the police?

If they catch us, you can go to jail. Every year, this seemingly insignificant caravan smuggles more than 200,000 liters of gasoline into Colombia. Behind these barriers is the house of the head of the gasoline cartel. We are prohibited from entering. Oribia, 120 thousand inhabitants, capital of the Wayu state. The only city where you can shop. William reinvests his salary immediately. I have about 100 euros there, that's what I earned that day. I will reinvest this money. I will double my profits by buying corn that I will sell in Vene

zuela

. Gasoline for food. Life on the black market. Like all Wayuu, William would not leave here for anything in the world.

It is the land of his ancestors. He would rather die than quit.