Travels in Bolivia, by taxi, bus, train, and plane

With Emily it was as if time stood still.We laughed, we discussed, but most of all, I was able to show her life in Bolivia. And I realized that as normal as her visit seemed, so is life here in Bolivia. Sure, we ran into a predicament with the Police in La Paz, our 6 hour bus ride turned into an 11.5 hours of riding in a bus which undoubtedly came straight from the junkyard, we were left stranded in La Higuera and had to walk home at dusk, and had to listen incessantly to the Entel woman yell “TARJETAS” outside our hotel in Sucre… but all those seem to fade away in the background when I think of all that we did, the kilometers of Bolivia that we experienced… in taxi, in bus, in train, and on foot.
Our first stop was in Samaipata, home of El Fuerte- a large site of Incan and pre-Incan ruins that, if excavated fully would be larger than Machu Pichu- and town of beautiful views of the Valles Cruceños. We hiked to El Fuerte with our Bolivian guide, Jose, learning native plant species, catching up on the latest gossip from the States, and completing the visit with gorgeous views from the top.
We left with what we thought was ample time to arrive at Vallegrande to have lunch with Joy and Jonathan (PCVs who live in Vallegrande)… but a broken taxi, a beer, and a cumbia-laden taxi ride later made us rather late. Sunday is market day there, so we explored the fruits, the vegetables, the used clothing, the hand-made sandals, and the fresh juice stands… all being offered by colorfully dressed cholitas from the campo. By the time we were on our way to Pucará, it was dusk… though perhaps it was better that the road couldn’t really be seen!
We awoke to a nice day in Pucará, avoiding rain and too cold of temperatures! I introduced Emily and her boyfriend to several people in the village, including Mayor Fernando. We decided to go to La Higuera with him after lunch… so we went in his newly “repaired” truck along with some Argentineans that we met in the plaza. Never returning to pick us up (duly noted in my book for the next time I travel with the Mayor!), we walked back to Pucará, admiring views and a gorgeous sunset.
The next day we hiked to Las Ingas, Incan ruins about 1.5 hours away. The path we used is that which horses, mules, and farmers going to the campo use daily. Once at the ruins we were followed by a cow and her two calves, apparently claiming stake on the property. These ruins still are privately owned, and the noticeable constructions have diminished over the years as livestock and people still trample the site- something I plan on addressing immediately to the community. We then had tea with my host family that afternoon, and visited a little more of Pucará before getting back to my house before nightfall!
Our trip to Sucre required us to go first to Vallegrande, and then overnight on bus to the city. Arriving early the next morning, we explored the market. Em and Corentin sampled Api- a warm, maize drink- and buñuelos- fresh beignets. We then went to the Andean Textile museum that was amazingly well done, historically and visually. Just over the Santa Cruz border it is amazing how Andean-rich the artesania and the weavings become and how they vary from community to community. Sucre, from my perspective, is my favorite city. Nestled in a basin, its streets are intimate, the architecture is simple and Spanish-colonial in style, and the atmosphere is fresh and uplifting. I was also glad to see typical Andean women, clad with their polleras and braids- something I have missed since leaving Cochabamba.
We spend the days there walking, visiting the cemetery where most of the prominent figures and many presidents are buried. We sampled salteñas, fresh juices, and Emily and I even found a café with good cappuccinos!
Having decided to go to the Salar in Uyuni (the Altiplano), we departed for Potosi in taxi. The beginnings of Potosi showed its reason for being- large silver factories and mines, and a city completely designed around Cerro Rico, the large mountain where silver was excavated. Once the largest city, and still the highest city in the world, Potosi has a very utilitarian presence; drab buildings, typical hearty meals served in large restaurants, and a clouds of grey that seem to oppress the city ever since the fall of its silver empire. The textiles and weavings were extraordinary bright colored and provided a beautiful contrast to the pattern of the city.
Next stop: Uyuni. Our bus from Potosi, which was to take 6 hours took 11.5 as we stopped every hour to fix the front tire, and interspersed were stops to go through small streams, which had turned to rivers. Quite possibly my worse bus ride in Bolivia thus far!! The good thing is that we arrived in Uyuni in time for our tour of the Salar. Located about 20 kilometers from the town, the Salar is the largest salt flat in the world, measuring 2,000+ km in area. Since it is the rainy season, we were only able to go as far as the salt hotel, missing much of the sights at the center of the desert but still experiencing the most breathtaking view of my life. A few carefree runs barefoot through the saltwater, a gourmet lunch, and a few goofy photo shoots later, I was left awestruck, wondering what else there was to do there except breath in the amazement. Dinner that night was among several other gringos at a great pizza place in Uyuni run by an American. It was refreshing to again be surrounded by gringos and we dined on pizza with ground llama meat as a topping; it was wonderful (and a cholesterol free meat at that!)
A long wait for the train and three third class purchased tickets later (no more room in first or second put us in the popular class which pretty much means the sardine class) we were on our way to Oruro, catching sights of Lago Poopo as the train pulled in. We decided to hop the bus directly to La Paz as we were short on time and immediately fell asleep on the more comfortable (relatively speaking!) bus.
La Paz was another point of amazement. It was exhilarating to be in a big city again, with skyscrapers and a diversity of peoples and activities. We stayed at a friend’s apartment and wandered through the market streets containing everything from socks to kitchen appliances to vendors selling roasted nuts and fresh squeezed orange juice. The following day we awoke early to our journey to Chojasivi, a small Aymara village on the shore of Lago Titicaca. The residents of Chojasivi are developing their tourism site and services and as their first actual tourists, we were given a treatment fit for kings. Dressed in traditional Aymaran garb, we were honored by the Mayor and introduced to all of the prominent figures in town. We were then taken by two tour guides in wooden sailboats around the Lake and to Isla Majawi, a small island with colonial remains, where the residents of Chojasivi use as a haven when fishing and also for ceremonial purposes. The sky was as blue as the grasses were green and as our cheeks were red from the perfect day. We returned to the village, and before us lay a feast of fried fish, chuño (dehydrated potato), rice, salad, plantains, and cut potatoes. Don Tito, the Alcalde, then proceeded to play a wooden flute for us and show us a traditional dance. As we were leaving, the villagers were having a ch’aia (inauguration) for the hospital they built. We were invited to meet the men and women and offered ample amounts of coca and beer, which are offerings for the Pachamama as much as for their guests.
Unfortunately that was the last of my moments with Emily, with Corentin, with our La Paz friends, and freedom from routine PCV life. But, like all good things, they must come to an end… or at least to a suspension. I rushed back to Santa Cruz to attend a tourism and cultural fair where Pucará had a booth. While we didn’t have much to offer in terms of tourist attractions presently, we brought live music (played by Pucareños) and pictures of the beautiful Cruceño Valleys. In terms of my job it was a great learning experience, and good way to jump back into work!

Felicidades! Happy New Year! Bonne Année!

Christmas and New Year´s have passed and for me it was the best of both worlds....Christmas Eve in Pucará was spent making empanadas, galletas, and cuñapes and decorating the manger scene in a several houses around town. Gray and rainy, the satellite phone lost connection sometime mid-afternoon, and the line of people desperately attempting to use the phone (myself included!) slowly dwindled, resigning to the fact that it would just have to wait until tomorrow (or two weeks from now) to be fixed. I went to an evangelical service at 7 just as a storm was rolling in, and then made my way to my friendYuma´s house, where i was to have dinner. We sat around the manger scene in the living room, chatting and drinking Coca Cola, awaiting dinner at midnight. Her family killed a pig for the occasion, and though skeptical to eat chancho for the first time, it was quite good! After good company, good food, and wishing Angel, Melba, Yuma, Miguel, Rosemary, and Maria Alejandra Feliz Navedad I walked home to my new house, closed the door and lit candles, playing christmas music on my Ipod and delving into the second Harry Potter book (I am addicted!). I awoke the next day with rainwater flooding into my room (so my room still needs a little work) but excited to go to mass and see all of the children gathered together. After church, I helped serve hot chocolate and pastries to all of the kids in Pucará and chatted with them in the plaza, getting soaking wet and loving every minute of it. Two missionary families who live in Pucará (from Michigan) invited me to Christmas dinner, and it was a blessing to have stuffing, mashed potatoes, AND pumpkin pie- a true feast unilke many i have had here thus far! I then went from house to house with the children, singing and dancing to “el niño” which is the baby Jesus in the nativity scene. After dancing around the altar we were rewarded with empanadas and pastries; we walked to the next house, with our mariachi band playing behind us, and everyone peering out of their doors to see what house was next.
Two days later I was in Samaipata visiting my friend David´s family and soaking in gorgeous views of the cloud forest and gardens of the eco-resort we stayed at. I barely made it out of Pucará as the rain and fog prohibited anything without 4WD to make it up the mountain… I finally hitched a ride from Pucará at night and made it according to plan. Once in Samaipata, we hiked to waterfalls, took advantage of the sunshine, drank too many cups of REAL coffee, and chatted around glasses of wine!
New Year´s… Santa Cruz was awesome, if nothing else that the fact that I was surrounded by my amazing friends and just thankful that we are all healthy and happy after our first 4 months in country. As pictures can attest, we celebrated the night at a Mexican restaurant, drinking margaritas and watching the fireworks light up the sky. All the guys in the group took advantage of the ample amounts of firecrackers sold here to have their own little show, scaring everyone in sight by setting them off inches from our feet! We then spend the first few hours of 2006 dancing in a club on Santa Cruz’s posh strip of dance clubs…not the way I would have imagined spending New Year´s a year ago (but a million times better!)

First Days of Paradise!

An old man whistling down the way, walking into the sunset from his long day in the fields… a dog hobbling along the cobblestone, rushing to find dinner at his owner’s door… children laughing, screeching while playing hide and seek in the plaza… roosters continually announcing the day and now dusk… these are the sights and sounds felt as I sit outside after my third day in Pucará. Today was the last day of school so the entire town went down to the school for the Pedagogic Fair. For days before students were painting pictures and murals, finalizing their science experiments, and perfecting their physical fitness performances. Most of the day was spent sitting on the grass, watching local dances, baton routines, and band performances. Already half of the kids know my name and think it synonymous with the ‘pelota’ (soccer ball). We have played every afternoon since my arrival, which children as little as 4 wanting to have a part in the action. Girls have played as well, though usually leave discouraged after not being passed the ball. “Where did you learn to play?” they ask. As if soccer was some long forsaken sport totally unknown to the female race. We play on the grass field at the school; the older boys play futbolina on the basketball court. I would love to get to know them and play at their intensity, but it is obvious that they rule the court and are not ready to have a girl invade their space; all they do is stare and whistle… and laugh at the little kids.

The big budget meeting is tomorrow morning- I suppose it will be my first “official” appearance in town, in front of the Alcalde (mayor) and other officials. Technically, I am trying to push for more funds to be allocated to the Culture and Tourism sector of the budget, though where exactly that money will go is yet to be determined. The previous volunteer, Michelle, started a library, complete with books, games, computers, and a television. It seems there is a great demand for computer classes, both from students and adults, and in order to continue using the library and dive right in to a project, I will be teaching computer basics. I will be going against my will and teaching Windows, and also Word and Excel. Apparently some Pucareños travel the 2 hours to Vallegrande every weekend to attend a computer class, and with travel and lodging it ends up being an expensive course. In order for this computer course to happen I had to write up an operating plan, asking for money from the state, the Participacion Popular, and the Alcaldia itself.

Yesterday I met Maria Yuma, a young woman who is on the library committee. She helped me write this plan for the classes and since then we have chatted a lot. She is the clinic administrator and knows a good deal about everything in Pucará; her energy and friendship has been welcomed with open arms. Between playing soccer, preparing for the budget meeting, and mingling with the school congregation, time has been moving along. Of course there are moments, such as these, at night when I try to escape to a book to find something familiar… or at least take on an activity that I would be doing whether in Paris, in Charlottesville, or in Pucará, Bolivia. I wouldn’t call it homesick; because that insinuates that home is where you would rather be- instead it’s just the need to get accustomed to a series of awkward, uncharted situations.

I have yet to move into my own house, and until then I think it will be hard to feel really at home here. I look forward to the day when I can shut my own door and open it again in the morning, feeling completely rejuvenated and ready to be Bolivian again. I tell my family I will be leaving next week to spend Thanksgiving in Santa Cruz with other Peace Corps volunteers. Its odd when holidays and customs just don’t translate; surely it is the same for us and customs here. I am anxious about leaving, if only for the time it will take to get accustomed once again to living in such a remote place. I am on my second candle, watching it burn as I write or read. I keep waiting for a phone to ring, a car to pass by, or a random horn to blow. But had you never heard these sounds in your life, a day here in Pucará would be perfectly normal… and loud.