Ramón Vargas’s story is one that spans continents, generations, and the enduring human search for freedom. It’s a tale that begins not in Venezuela, the country where he grew up, but in Cuba—the birthplace of his mother and the backdrop to the first dictatorship that would shape his family’s destiny. There, under Castro’s regime, his mother learned the meaning of repression, scarcity, and the daily erosion of liberty. She carried those lessons with her, warning her son about what she believed was coming for Venezuela. As reported by La Voz de Asturias, Vargas, now 52, admits he initially brushed off his mother’s cautionary words. After all, Venezuela was a country flush with oil wealth; how could it possibly fall into the same trap?
But the years would prove her right. "I never imagined that what had happened in Cuba would happen in Venezuela, especially since it is a country with one of the largest oil wealth reserves in the world," Vargas told La Voz de Asturias. The nation’s economy collapsed, crime soared, and daily life became increasingly unlivable. Scarcity, censorship, and fear became the new normal. The echoes of his mother’s experience in Cuba grew louder with each passing year, until finally, Vargas was forced to confront the reality she had foreseen.
By 2017, after nearly a decade wrestling with bureaucratic red tape and holding onto dreams of a better future, Vargas made the difficult decision to leave Venezuela. He first landed in the Canary Islands, starting over from scratch. It was an act of survival, not just for himself, but for his entire family—his partner, his son, his parents, and his sisters. "At the end, we all had to emigrate," he recalls, a sadness in his voice, though he remains convinced it was the right move. The exodus was not just a physical journey, but an emotional one, severing ties with a homeland that had become unrecognizable.
Five years later, driven by love and the pull of a new beginning, Vargas moved to Oviedo, the capital of Asturias in northern Spain. There, he found a landscape that was oddly familiar—the mountains and the humid air of the Cantabrian Sea reminded him of Mérida, the Venezuelan city where he spent his youth. "We have more or less a similar temperature, not as cold in winter," he observed, finding comfort in the little similarities that made a foreign place feel like home. But it wasn’t just the geography that warmed him; the people of Asturias, he said, were "very cool and welcoming," making the transition a little easier.
Drawing on a lifetime of hospitality experience—passed down from his Basque father, who once owned as many as 14 businesses—Vargas set out to build something of his own. He invested thousands of euros, took out loans, and painstakingly remodeled an old space in the Otero neighborhood. The result was La Pollería de Otero, a small restaurant with an open kitchen where the flavors of Spain, Venezuela, and Cuba come together. It’s not just a business; it’s a testament to resilience and adaptation. The menu is a tapestry of his journey: arepas and tequeños from his Venezuelan roots, rice dishes, paellas, and fideuás that nod to Spanish tradition, and, perhaps most notably, a roasted chicken with cider sauce—a loving tribute to Asturias itself.
"I can sell between 50 and 60 units on just one Sunday," Vargas said with pride. The dish has become a local favorite, drawing customers not only from the Otero neighborhood but also from as far away as Gijón and Mieres. His business has grown to become a true landmark, a place where locals and newcomers alike gather to enjoy food that tells a story.
The road, however, has been anything but smooth. Vargas is candid about the challenges. "The aid they claim exists, I have never seen," he confessed. Despite government promises of support for new businesses and immigrants, he’s had to rely almost entirely on his own grit and the support of his family and loyal customers. Every euro invested, every hour spent remodeling, and every chicken roasted is a testament to his determination to carve out a new life against the odds.
Yet, for all his success, Vargas is not ready to rest on his laurels. "As long as I can pay the loans and live comfortably, I'll keep cooking," he says, showing little interest in retirement. His dream is to open a larger restaurant—a place where he can serve his dishes at tables and share his life story with diners. It’s a dream rooted not just in ambition, but in a desire to connect with others, to offer a taste of hope and resilience to anyone who walks through his doors.
Despite the comfort and acceptance he’s found in Spain, Vargas’s heart remains tied to the lands he left behind. He speaks often of his hope to return to a free Venezuela, and to finally visit the Cuba of his mother’s memories, once both dictatorships are nothing but a distant, painful memory. "I want to return when it's possible to live freely and without fear," he asserts, a sentiment that resonates with countless exiles around the world. His story, he believes, is more than just a personal narrative—it’s a lesson in resilience and rebirth, a beacon for those forced to start over far from home.
Vargas’s journey is a reminder that the search for freedom and dignity is universal, and that even in the face of daunting obstacles, hope can take root and flourish in the most unexpected places. His restaurant stands as both a culinary destination and a living testament to the power of perseverance, community, and the enduring dream of returning home—someday, when liberty finally triumphs over fear.