The Etalia Project

Nelson Zapata was my Uber driver one spirited Wednesday evening in Buenos Aires. Celebrating the mere experience of being in one of the most renowned cities in South America, a sense of opportunity filled the air, wafting up our noses like freshly ground coffee. As there were four of us, I hopped into the front seat eager to chat. Upon learning my nationality Nelson transitioned smoothly into English, but as I prefer to practice my Spanish, we began to engage in a funny kind of fluent communication in which we each spoke in our nonnative tongue and listened in our native one. Two open books from different parts of the library, formalities quickly dissolved into profound conversation.

Nelson was born in Venezuela, which alone was evidence of a unique story, but is also the director of a local orchestra and an accomplished musician. I unbridled my curiosity and engaged further, striving to learn more about him. His answers steadily lacked ego and instead related to broad ideas and his community. When I presented the idea of an interview, he confirmed unquestioningly and invited me to come check out one of the orchestra’s rehearsals. I happily accepted. 

I was sorry to be late to the rehearsal the next Friday afternoon. Following his directions I tiptoed quietly through an old church on a dark street to a muggy, brightly lit room in the back. Sixty musicians crowded the room, arranged in increasingly large semi circles enclosing Nelson. He was easy to spot not only for his centered position and brightly colored salmon button down, but also for the command he held over the room. Leaning casually on a desk, he addressed his orchestra with an ease and grace that struck me immediately as the effortless confidence wrought only by the joy – and hard earned accomplishment – of doing what he loves.

Every single person in that room offered him their undivided attention. Ranging from young teenagers to mature adults, the orchestra laughed along to the witty humor he seamlessly integrated into his discourse, but then immediately cut back to silence and intent listening when the joke had run its course. It went on like this for 30 minutes after I arrived, and I had been 30 minutes late, meaning one full hour was dedicated to Nelson’s presentation. Still the group’s attention remained – evidence of complete and profound respect for their maestro.

And then, the orchestra did what they’d all come to do: to play. The kinship in simply being together had already been apparent, but as they lifted their instruments to the ready and dove into their collective purpose at Nelson’s cue, a magic filled the air through much more than sound waves. Pure emotion was translated through song, and ears and hearts responded in kind, immersing themselves as deeply as they could. 

I sat there for four hours observing the orchestra play, mess up, laugh, debate, all led by the strong leadership of Nelson. He seemed to have identified the barely perceptible line between the fun and the serious teacher, generating both enjoyment and dedication. When the strings struggled with a particularly testing score, he challenged the two sides of the room to a friendly competition which quickly led to mastery. When a musician raised their hand to offer an idea, he listened intently, and always gave their idea a chance. The synergy of the orchestra created unmatched beauty in their sounding; it was the quintessence of quality forged from a fire united.

The interview hadn’t even started, and yet I felt I already knew Nelson personally. And then came the details:

Nelson Zapata was born in 1998 in Villa Nueva, Venezuela, a tiny town with 500 inhabitants. He described his childhood with the inexplicable joy of growing up in the countryside, surrounded by the wonder of nature and farm animals. Music was a central part of his family so it was no surprise when he took up the violin. Like many from his small town, he soon moved to the city to pursue a better life and began studying the violin in El Sistema (Sistema Nacional de Orquestras y Coros Juveniles e Infantiles de Venezuela). Though already on track to be an accomplished violinist, Nelson discovered a passion deeper still for orchestral direction, and upon its discovery, like north to a compass, could not help but make it his focus.

But it wasn’t all music notes and sunshine. While Nelson developed his musical prowess, his country was spiraling under the dictatorship of Nicolas Maduro, defined by violence and economic collapse. As a young university student, Nelson involved himself greatly with the political activism movement, utilizing his violin as his method of protest. His efforts did not go unnoticed by the world, nor unfortunately, by the regime. At 19 years old on his walk back home from a particularly successful demonstration, Nelson was accosted by three of Maduro’s men at gunpoint. 

They took his violin from him and said, “Voltea te vamos a matar.”

Nelson’s life flooded his thoughts as, stripped of his faithful companion, his arms raised above his head, he turned around and awaited his end. But instead of the bullet, he heard a screech of tires and turned around to see the car had sped away, sparing his life. He called this a complete and utter miracle.

Upon making it home, he did not again leave. He knew the danger he was in, and spent weeks locked inside writing to NGOs begging for help. At the time, Venezuela lacked public transportation, any sense of security, and food. What one earned in a month was equivalent to the price of a cup of coffee, Nelson told me. He had grown accustomed to this state of being, only eating once or twice a day together with his family in order for them all to eat. Harsh realities were survivable, but a direct threat from the dictatorship was likely not.

One month later, the president from one of the NGO’s sent him a ticket to fly to Buenos Aires. The sweet relief of refuge was quickly replaced with the realization that in four weeks he had to leave everything, and everyone, behind, possibly forever. And so, one month later, in the middle of the night, dressed in a disguise with his entire life in the bag beside him, he bid his family farewell and from the car window watched them fade from view into the darkness.

Nelson describes the warm welcome he received in Argentina with a solemn gratitude, knowing that many of his fellow Venezuelans who landed in other countries have not had the same experience. For him, strangers on the street accompanied smiles with their detailed directions and thoughtful responses to his questions. Eyes witnessed him for his humanity, rather than for his distinction as a foreigner.

A gentler assimilation process allowed Nelson to turn back to his north star, orchestral direction, with the hope of building a new life rather than the desperation of it being all that remained. Through the music, he found community, purpose and the love of his life, an expert violinist, who he was honored to call both his wife and his first violin. 

But he always stayed up to date on news from home. 

In 2024 following another fraud in the elections, knowing the suffering his friends, family, and country were facing, Nelson decided he had to do something. And in his words, the best thing he knew how to do was the music. So he organized a show in honor of Venezuela, determined to bring hope to the people and awareness to their struggle. He didn’t know it yet, but that was the formation of the Pequeña Venecia (Little Venice) Symphony Orchestra. 

Named for his two countries, the orchestra has grown as word spread of the warm environment and dedication to the craft. Nelson loves his musicians, not just as musicians, but as people. After the rehearsal I observed, he barely had a chance to greet me amidst the numbers of students who raced up to share a joke, personal problem, or idea. And he welcomed each with absolute attention.

Later he shared that many of the musicians didn’t own their own instruments, and likely would never be able to due to their costliness. He also shared that like him, many of the orchestra members could not dedicate themselves fully to the music due to the reality of needing to make a living. Almost all have other full time jobs that they must commit themselves to, in addition to the lengthy weekly rehearsals. Some of them even commute hours, though there are likely other groups closer by.

It is Nelson’s dream that one day the orchestra can be the full source of income for his musicians, and that they can pursue musical excellence without financial burden. Nelson also dreams of freedom and justice for Venezuela. And lastly, Nelson wishes for people across the world to take the time to be truly conscious, for it is only awareness of ourselves that leads us down the path of acceptance and lands in peace. 

Thank you Nelson, for sharing your story /// Gracias Nelson, por compartir tu historia.

Watch the full interview: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L4ZztQM-AZs