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CABIMAS, Venezuela — Rust consumes the pumps that once propelled Venezuela’s oil industry, a sector now largely defined by decay. Buildings stand vandalized, occupied by squatters, or simply boarded up. The schools, clinics, and even the golf course—once symbols of an industry flush with petrodollars—are either gone or reclaimed by weeds. “Our biggest problem is depression and anxiety,” says Manuel Polanco, 74, a former petroleum engineer, his memories of better times starkly contrasting with the present reality. “We barely survive. We have just enough to feed ourselves, to get by.”

This is the scene in Venezuela’s Maracaibo Basin, historically one of the world’s foremost sources of petroleum. The arrest of President Nicolás Maduro and his wife last month by U.S. Authorities has prompted President Trump to pledge a rebuilding of Venezuela’s oil sector, alongside the provision of resources for the United States. East of Maracaibo lies the Orinoco Belt, possessing the world’s largest proven oil reserves, estimated at over 300 billion barrels. However, a recent assessment of the Maracaibo region reveals significant obstacles to any revival.

Visitors are met with a landscape of non-functioning wells, damaged pipelines, and empty storage tanks. The U.S. Plans have been met with skepticism, but some veterans of the oil fields envision a return to prosperity. “I see myself flourishing again,” said José Celestino García Petro, 66, a father of eight, who lost his job when his well-servicing firm was expropriated by the government years ago. “Rising from the ashes!”

At its peak in the 1970s, Venezuela pumped approximately 3.5 million barrels of oil daily. A founding member of the Organization of the Petroleum Exporting Countries (OPEC), the nation enjoyed a period of affluence, though the wealth was largely concentrated among domestic elites and foreign oil companies, rather than reaching the impoverished majority. However, declining crude prices, government mismanagement, and U.S. Sanctions have reduced the industry to a fraction of its former self. Last year, Venezuela produced around 1 million barrels a day, representing less than 1% of global production. Despite this diminished output, petroleum remained a crucial lifeline for a nation grappling with over a decade of economic, political, and social turmoil, including mass emigration, hyperinflation, and widespread despair.

U.S. Energy Secretary Chris Wright visited Venezuela last week, meeting with interim President Delcy Rodríguez and touring oil fields. He reported “enormous progress” in reviving the sector, now effectively under U.S. Management. However, experts estimate that restoring Venezuela’s hydrocarbon infrastructure will require at least a decade and potentially $200 billion or more. The involvement of major oil companies is crucial, but some executives remain hesitant, with ExxonMobil CEO Darren Woods recently labeling Venezuela “uninvestable.”

Along the oil-streaked shores of Lake Maracaibo, a massive coastal lagoon, the remnants of a once-thriving enterprise stand as relics of the past. The shoreline is littered with decaying pumps, unstable derricks, abandoned cranes, and aging pipelines. Oil pollution has devastated local fish and crab populations. “I pray to God every day that things will change for the better,” said Joel José León Santo, 53, preparing his fishing boat with three colleagues. “But so far we haven’t seen any improvements. Food is more expensive. Tomorrow’s meal depends on today’s catch.”

Industry observers estimate that fewer than 2,000 wells are currently operational in a region with approximately 12,000. “Everything here is bad, at a standstill,” said Mari Camacho, 45, who is squatting in abandoned homes in El Güere, a town along the eastern shores of Lake Maracaibo with her family. A brick factory that once served the oil producers has been shuttered for years. Camacho’s four sons have emigrated to Colombia, joining the country’s ongoing exodus. Her home sits atop a sea of oil, yet she has had no electricity for six years, since a transformer failed and was never repaired. She and her neighbors fear eviction by the legal property owners. “I don’t know where I would go,” she said.

The city of Cabimas, an iconic center of Venezuela’s petroleum industry, is now a dilapidated metropolis where residents observe the gradual progress of cars navigating pothole-ridden streets. “All the great companies that used to exist were connected to the petroleum industry,” said Hollister Quintero, 32, a Cabimas native whose grandparents worked for foreign oil firms during the industry’s peak. “Now, there is just desolation.” Quintero, lacking the funds to complete his college education, works as a freelance audiovisual producer and cares for his aging parents, whose public pensions total the equivalent of $2 a month.

For centuries, the area around Lake Maracaibo was known for natural oil seepage, a phenomenon also observed in places like the La Brea Tar Pits in Los Angeles. Indigenous people and Spanish settlers used the viscous substance for medicinal purposes and waterproofing boats. The oil age arrived in the mid-19th and early 20th centuries, attracting wildcatters and fortune-seekers from the United States and Europe to a region previously known for coffee, cacao, and cattle.

In 1922, the Barroso II well, managed by Royal Dutch Shell, initiated a boom. On December 14th, the well erupted, spewing approximately 100,000 barrels daily. As historian Orlando Méndez wrote, “Suddenly, with a roar, oil erupted from the well in a spout that towered 200 feet above the derrick and fanned out in the air like a titan’s umbrella.” Locals gathered, and as oil rained down, they shouted, “¡Petróleo!” The gusher continued for nine days, ushering in a period of rapid growth. By the end of the 1920s, Venezuela had become the world’s largest oil exporter.

Venezuela experienced cycles of boom and bust, but by the late 1990s, production had returned to near-record levels of 3 million barrels a day. President Hugo Chávez, a left-wing populist, used soaring revenues to fund social programs. A general strike in 2002-03 led Chávez to fire almost 20,000 employees of the state oil firm. Later, Chávez nationalized dozens of oil companies, including U.S. Firms. These actions, experts say, consolidated state control and drained the country of expertise and investment. Chávez died in 2013, and international oil prices subsequently declined, exacerbating the crisis under his successor, Maduro. U.S. Sanctions enacted during the Trump administration further compounded the difficulties. Most fired oil workers never regained their positions. “We were stigmatized, our benefits were taken away, and we were denied the opportunity to function in Venezuela,” said Polanco.

Polanco found work in Colombia, Ecuador, and Mexico before returning to Cabimas. He has one son in the United States and another in Mexico. He and other former oil workers expressed cautious optimism regarding Trump’s revival plan. “I would love to return to the oil industry and have it be the same as it was 22 years ago,” said Michelle Bello, 51, a father of five who was forced out of the state oil company during the purge. “Take politics out of it.” Quintero, the young entrepreneur, also hopes for a revitalization of his hometown, but remains skeptical. “Of course I hope that Cabimas could be reborn anew as a petroleum center,” said Quintero. “This is a place with a lot of history and culture. But the sad fact is this: We are now a ghost town.”