What's your cédula ?

Since arriving in Venezuela, we’ve been on half a dozen buses, and more often than that to the supermarket.  And after almost every purchase, the bus driver / salesperson asks the same question : “What’s your cédula ?”


“What ?”


Cédulas rang a vague bell for me.  I remember in Spanish class that James Woods thought there were life-and-death important in the film Salvador.  But why would the overweight busdriver of the La Grita - La Fria line be asking me the same question as the right-wing death squads from El Salvador ?  Here's a little extract from the film :

What's going on here, man?

I think they're checking cédulas.

What's a cédula?

Birth certificates, voting papers.

If you don't have a cédula, you're in deep shit

Put your hands on your head.

"What's your cédula ?," he repeated.

I start looking for the nearest exit, ready to flee with my life.

“Identificacion, por favor.”

Ahhhh, thus I learned that, apparently, all Venezuelans have to carry national ID with them at all times and that someone keeps track of their movements and purchases.

Well, I didn't get shot or handcuffed, but I did receive a frustrated glance that he couldn't track my whereabouts and purchases.  Oh well, this story's not nearly as interesting as the movie.