Pucará for the first time...

Pucará appeared to me as a speck clinging onto a hillside, hidden between the lush mountains of Santa Cruz and the fertile valley of the Rio Mizque. I arrived by bus with my counterpart, Iver, around 11 o’clock… I met his family and they hardly exchanged two words to each other. This is the second day I have known Iver and conversing with him is one of the most difficult tasks I have had here in Bolivia. He is an intelligent high school professor and president of the governmental group of Pucará- yet is incredibly short on conversation. Pucará is even smaller than I imagined; it consists mainly of a large plaza, a cute colonial church, and a series of adobe houses, creating a small grid around the plaza. I met the Alcalde (Mayor), the Official Mayor (Asst. Mayor), most of the professors, and most of the town in general. I helped Iver teach his English class that afternoon… we practiced telephone conversations and the students now want me to tutor each of them individually. The volunteer before me built a series of greenhouses, both for families and for the school. Iver showed me what seeds they had planted and how they were attempting to build another even after her absence.
Corn and potatoes are the main crops, and basically the only crops around Pucará… at every meal this week I’ve eaten molé, steamed kernels of corn, potatoes, and rice. In terms of food supply, Pucará is desperately lacking any type of fruit, legumes, and meat. My first day there I couldn’t help but mentally list the amenities that Pucará lacked: light, produce, accessibility, communication, and general town maintenance. My room for the week was the front room of Iver’s family’s house. I slept in a bed behind a curtain and realized much to my dismay that I shared this room with several rats… This was the beginning of a long, sleepless night spent wondering how I was to make my next two years productive, especially considering my job was to promote tourism in this remote community.
The next day brought more fog, chilly temperatures, and rising uncertainties. I went for a run and explored the countryside, which I immediately fell in love with. This is literally a melting pot of topographies, and the intersection of departments (Sucre, Santa Cruz, and Cochabamba). I just walked around the town a bit, introducing myself to people, went to the first tienda and came across the town “Golden Girls”. Two cups of coffee and an hour later I had answered every question imaginable about myself and heard about the latest news to hit Pucará. This mainly consisted of the new evangelical gringos that moved in and who don’t try to speak Spanish and who was the best family to rent a room from. It’s amazing how universal a group of women chatting and a warm hospitality can do for the soul. I immediately changed my outlook on my future 24 months and took a deep breath. The people have proven to be nothing but hospitable and excited to have another volunteer. Later that afternoon I went with Iver and the Alcalde to La Higuera, which is the site where Che Guevara was captured and killed. We were to attend a meeting concerning a new road being built in La Higuera and all the townspeople are vehemently against it. The Alcalde, being up for reelection this December was undoubtedly trying to appease his audience; it was a long meeting, which ended in the decision to have another meeting next weekend. I was able to visit the museum and chat with one of the guides who has lived in La Higuera his entire life. He is probably 70 or so years old, and how excited I was to realize that I was speaking to a walking history book.
The rest of the visit was rather smooth. I found a room to rent though it will only be able to move in after December 8th. That is the day of the annual Pucará festival and apparently people from all around Vallegrande and Santa Cruz attend. I am interested to see the magnitude of such a party in this small village. My room is in a new house, and overlooks the church, plaza, the mountains, and the Rio Mizque. I will be living with an old abuelita (grandmother), and thus think that it will be a quiet, pleasant arrangement. Later on, I made my way back to Vallegrande (about 1.5 hours away) and was amazed as to the abundance of this city. I can find anything imaginable here, including brie and gouda that are made by a German family who lives here! I can also get my mail delivered here, which is much better than having to travel 8 hours to Santa Cruz to do so!
Upon my return to Santa Cruz and today to Cochabamba I have realized that perhaps the most difficult thing about these next two years will not be when I am in Pucará for days on end, but the duality I will experience when going in between there and the city. It was difficult to see all the lights and noise of a city. Its amazing how this little village seems almost stuck in an era devoid of modernity. On a lighter note, we all went out on the town last night in Santa Cruz. Having forgotten our “going out” attire back in the states, we were quickly denied entry at most of the clubs downtown. We tried to turn on the charm and sweet talk our way in wearing jeans and flip-flops while others flounced by in flowery skirts and stilettos! We finally found a “club” which, after entering, realized it was more of an under -18 dance hall, decorated with streamers, pumpkins, and Fanta punch. The 14 of us were just happy to get out and let loose, so we accepted the small loss of integrity and had a great time dancing!
Back now to Bella Vista, where I have only 10 days left to spend with my family and fellow trainees before swearing in! This week is not only Halloween, but also Todos Santos, a huge family celebration with an abundance of food and social engagements.

Happy Halloween!