Why lie? I just got back from a night of dancing with Diana and Miranda. We had ourselves some fun after having to stand in line for almost two hours (right, ladies?).
But my last full day in Buenos Aires is, at this moment occurring. I can't believe it. In this moment, I'm not ready to come home. I'm not ready for all the responsibility that awaits me. I want to continue dancing and carefree and everything that I have found here in Buenos Aires. The funny thing is that one reason I'm so ready to come home is the want/need for more responsibility. I've had my phase where I just did whatever, irresponsiblity, capricious, young, beautiful and carefree. Most people have that during their high school years or their first year of college. I guess I'm one of those that just waited until study abroad ;) .
So what will I do today? I will make lunch with Miranda and Di, then maybe wander the city, go see Hilda (hermana of Carmen).... I dunno. Pack. So far I have both of my big bags packed full. Then I also have my backpack that I traveled with--where most of my clothes are at this moment. I still have some to be washed, plus other things to buy. I don't know where I'm going to find the space, and I know for sure I'm probably going to have to pay because 1) I have an extra bag and 2) because they'll weigh more than 50 pounds.
I stocked up on yerba and wine. I hope the bottles don't break, and I hope that if my bag gets searched, they don't think that the yerba is weed. I mean.. technically, I guess, it is--but not in the mind altering way. There's also a bit of dulce de leche in there.
Since I've gotten back I've managed to spend waaayy too much. I've been running around spending my money trying to find gifts for others, buying myself things, and just enjoying mi ciudad. I get the feeling that looking through all the things that I've boughten in the last bit, unpacking my pack will feel like Christmas--and mainly for myself! haha.
Tonight I cooked Carmen a birthday dinner of garlic-lemon and rosemary chicken with a white wine sauce and steamed broccoli and carrots. Cornbread (something Carmen LOVES) was also served. Me salio' (it turned out) very good. Very yummy. I also bought Carmen a planet that will bloom twice a year so she can add it to her patio/amazing collection of plants. I guess it went over well. I hope that Carmen enjoyed it.
I had a date tonight with an Argentine. We went to Plaza Serrano, a place in Palermo with lots of bars. We sat and talked. It was very nice and Guillermo, my date, was very much a cabellero, gentleman. It went pretty well. Looking back on it, it goes to show how much I have improved in my Spanish that I could sit and carry a conversation for 2 hours straight without straining myself too much.
My new roommate, Tessa, who arrived last Saturday, just got up to leave and get her student visa... all the while I am getting ready for bed.
Friday, July 25, 2008
Monday, July 21, 2008
She's back in the big BA
I arrived in Buenos Aires at about 10:30 this morning. It was rainy and gray; fitting, though, because that's how I left this town. I rode in from Mendoza, where I sadly didn't have time to stay and re-check her out. It was nice to be home. I kicked off my shoes and gave a knowing smile to Sumi, the roommate, as Carmen began her fussing, including nagging me about giving her all my dirty clothes and hopping in the shower. Damn, life is so hard.
When I last left off, I mentioned that I was heading to Valparaiso in Chile. Valpo, as it is called by the locals and most South Americans, was a pleasant place. It was nice to be at a sea level altitude level for once. The weather was pretty crappy for the few days that I was there, but I enjoyed walking around.
Valpo is another city that extends into the hills. It's pretty rough around the edges, without much flare or old historical feel. What it does have, however, is personality. The locals love to party. There are bars and live music joints all over the place. There are also lots of stay cats, more so than in most other South American cities.
The houses are painted different colors, so as you look into the hills, you see splashes of turquoise/blue, yellow, and faded red spotting about. I didn't find having to walk up and down the hills as exhausting as I did in Cusco or La Paz. My lungs must have expanded at this point, making me a super human able to handle extreme hill walking at high altitudes. Valpo and its hills at sea level have nothing on me.
What is Valpo famous for? Food, city life, the ascensores (little box cars situated on tracks that carry folks up and down the hills, cutting out all the good, healthy walking bit), and one of Pablo Neruda's houses. While I was in Valpo I acomplished most of that list; there's still much to be discovered on my next trip.
I decided, with my short amount of time left, that the best idea would be to kill two birds with one stone. I rode an ascensor up one of the hills that left me near one of Neruda's houses. Pablo Neruda was a very famous Chilean author, mainly poet, that was also very politically active. He was a very interesting guy, obsessed with the sea and ships. He collected maiden heads (the wooden figures at the front of ships), compasses, and other sea-oriented things. He wrote in green ink because "green meant life and hope." He loved things in general. His houses are full of knick knacks and dust collectors. The irony in his passion was that he never learned how to swim and had a huge fear of the sea. He even bought a boat, but never sailed it because he was so afraid.
But the man could decorate. He liked to use everything and anything. Lots of glass bottles of different sizes and shades, stain glass windows and doors, paintings, street signs, and random pieces of furniture. He's house in Valpo, La Sebastiana, was very pretty it. It had a killer view of the harbor and the surrounding houses in the hills.
Simon and I also went to the Isla Negra, or the main house that Neruda wrote in and kept company. It was about an hour and a half away from Valpo, more inland. The scenario changed very much from just that short time. The hills flattened and it reminded me of Northern England and Scotland--it was just very green and lush. The weather was still crappy, foggy, low clouds that just kindaof seeped wetness. Simon said that the landscape reminded him of New Zealand a lot.
Isla Negra is quite a cool place. It was built like a ship, with small, narrow doorways (which couldn't have been easy for the 6 foot, 200 lbs man that Neruda was) and wooden pegs in the floor boards. If I thought that La Sebastiana had a view... Isla Negra blew that place out of the water. Neruda's bedroom looked out onto a rugged coast line where the greeny blue Pacific crashed into contrasting black volcanic rocks. So amazing. Simon and I decided that if it weren't for all the annoying tourists that would bother us continually, we'd buy the house and live there. It was very peaceful and easy to see why it was by far Neruda's favorite house. It was definitely the more than 10 maiden heads that were scattered throughout the property.
On the way back from Isla Negra, we saw one of the most astounding, pinky orange, full blown sunsets that we'd ever seen in our lives. As the bus snaked through the city, we caught glances of the hills lined with this amazing sky line that was reflected by bobbing fishing boats in the harbor.
We stayed in a place called the Yo-Yo hostel, which wasn't too shabby: it had hot showers and alright beds. It also had a big kitchen where Simon and I cooked up a crab, a roast chicken with veggies and a mushroom cream sauce, and a stir fry with shrimp. It was run by this amazing crazy lady Sophie who went so crazy the first night that we were there that the next day she had to stay in the hostel to recover enough from her hangover to be able to walk up the street and around the corner to her house where she could attempt to live out the rest of her hangover. There was also Jorge, the very friendly, slightly flaming day guy and David, the very young night guy. It was a nice hostel with lots of personality and happiness in it.
I also had a Chilean completo, which means a super long hot dog smothered in avocado, cheese, ketchup, chili sauce, and, for those that want it, mayo. I also ate a churrasco which is like a completo, but only with shreds of steak and eaten like a sandwich. They were ssssoooo good. Mouthwatering, tummy filling goodness.
Leaving from Valpo to get to here was pretty easy. A little cold at the Andean border checkpoint between Chile and Argentina. It was snowing. I remember checking my watch for the date while I signed papers swearing I was carrying drugs over the border (JUST KIDDING-but I did check my watch), realizing it was July, and smiling to myself because I was thinking "It's snowing in July...crazy." I watched some movies, slept, sighed, the regular long bus ride routine.
When I got to Mendoza I got the next bus to Buenos Aires and realized I had some time to kill. So what did I do? I ate ice cream. Why? Well, if you remember correctly (ie: read my blogs) you would remember that the ice cream of Mendoza was particularly amazing, and when in Rome...
After my very special treat I climbed on another bus and slept a good amount. I finally made it back to Buenos Aires, back to my room, back to this area. It's been nice getting all caught up with Sumi and Carmen, meeting the new people staying here. I am very excited to start my last week... not because it's my last week, but because I have much that I want to accomplish before I leave and I want to get it all done. I like having something to do, some purpose to finish. Makes me feel like I'm finishing my time well here.
Looking back over my trip, I realize that I meet some (and not so) phenomenal people and saw some breathtaking views. I also earned some uncanny stories and learned quite a few lessons.
When I last left off, I mentioned that I was heading to Valparaiso in Chile. Valpo, as it is called by the locals and most South Americans, was a pleasant place. It was nice to be at a sea level altitude level for once. The weather was pretty crappy for the few days that I was there, but I enjoyed walking around.
Valpo is another city that extends into the hills. It's pretty rough around the edges, without much flare or old historical feel. What it does have, however, is personality. The locals love to party. There are bars and live music joints all over the place. There are also lots of stay cats, more so than in most other South American cities.
The houses are painted different colors, so as you look into the hills, you see splashes of turquoise/blue, yellow, and faded red spotting about. I didn't find having to walk up and down the hills as exhausting as I did in Cusco or La Paz. My lungs must have expanded at this point, making me a super human able to handle extreme hill walking at high altitudes. Valpo and its hills at sea level have nothing on me.
What is Valpo famous for? Food, city life, the ascensores (little box cars situated on tracks that carry folks up and down the hills, cutting out all the good, healthy walking bit), and one of Pablo Neruda's houses. While I was in Valpo I acomplished most of that list; there's still much to be discovered on my next trip.
I decided, with my short amount of time left, that the best idea would be to kill two birds with one stone. I rode an ascensor up one of the hills that left me near one of Neruda's houses. Pablo Neruda was a very famous Chilean author, mainly poet, that was also very politically active. He was a very interesting guy, obsessed with the sea and ships. He collected maiden heads (the wooden figures at the front of ships), compasses, and other sea-oriented things. He wrote in green ink because "green meant life and hope." He loved things in general. His houses are full of knick knacks and dust collectors. The irony in his passion was that he never learned how to swim and had a huge fear of the sea. He even bought a boat, but never sailed it because he was so afraid.
But the man could decorate. He liked to use everything and anything. Lots of glass bottles of different sizes and shades, stain glass windows and doors, paintings, street signs, and random pieces of furniture. He's house in Valpo, La Sebastiana, was very pretty it. It had a killer view of the harbor and the surrounding houses in the hills.
Simon and I also went to the Isla Negra, or the main house that Neruda wrote in and kept company. It was about an hour and a half away from Valpo, more inland. The scenario changed very much from just that short time. The hills flattened and it reminded me of Northern England and Scotland--it was just very green and lush. The weather was still crappy, foggy, low clouds that just kindaof seeped wetness. Simon said that the landscape reminded him of New Zealand a lot.
Isla Negra is quite a cool place. It was built like a ship, with small, narrow doorways (which couldn't have been easy for the 6 foot, 200 lbs man that Neruda was) and wooden pegs in the floor boards. If I thought that La Sebastiana had a view... Isla Negra blew that place out of the water. Neruda's bedroom looked out onto a rugged coast line where the greeny blue Pacific crashed into contrasting black volcanic rocks. So amazing. Simon and I decided that if it weren't for all the annoying tourists that would bother us continually, we'd buy the house and live there. It was very peaceful and easy to see why it was by far Neruda's favorite house. It was definitely the more than 10 maiden heads that were scattered throughout the property.
On the way back from Isla Negra, we saw one of the most astounding, pinky orange, full blown sunsets that we'd ever seen in our lives. As the bus snaked through the city, we caught glances of the hills lined with this amazing sky line that was reflected by bobbing fishing boats in the harbor.
We stayed in a place called the Yo-Yo hostel, which wasn't too shabby: it had hot showers and alright beds. It also had a big kitchen where Simon and I cooked up a crab, a roast chicken with veggies and a mushroom cream sauce, and a stir fry with shrimp. It was run by this amazing crazy lady Sophie who went so crazy the first night that we were there that the next day she had to stay in the hostel to recover enough from her hangover to be able to walk up the street and around the corner to her house where she could attempt to live out the rest of her hangover. There was also Jorge, the very friendly, slightly flaming day guy and David, the very young night guy. It was a nice hostel with lots of personality and happiness in it.
I also had a Chilean completo, which means a super long hot dog smothered in avocado, cheese, ketchup, chili sauce, and, for those that want it, mayo. I also ate a churrasco which is like a completo, but only with shreds of steak and eaten like a sandwich. They were ssssoooo good. Mouthwatering, tummy filling goodness.
Leaving from Valpo to get to here was pretty easy. A little cold at the Andean border checkpoint between Chile and Argentina. It was snowing. I remember checking my watch for the date while I signed papers swearing I was carrying drugs over the border (JUST KIDDING-but I did check my watch), realizing it was July, and smiling to myself because I was thinking "It's snowing in July...crazy." I watched some movies, slept, sighed, the regular long bus ride routine.
When I got to Mendoza I got the next bus to Buenos Aires and realized I had some time to kill. So what did I do? I ate ice cream. Why? Well, if you remember correctly (ie: read my blogs) you would remember that the ice cream of Mendoza was particularly amazing, and when in Rome...
After my very special treat I climbed on another bus and slept a good amount. I finally made it back to Buenos Aires, back to my room, back to this area. It's been nice getting all caught up with Sumi and Carmen, meeting the new people staying here. I am very excited to start my last week... not because it's my last week, but because I have much that I want to accomplish before I leave and I want to get it all done. I like having something to do, some purpose to finish. Makes me feel like I'm finishing my time well here.
Looking back over my trip, I realize that I meet some (and not so) phenomenal people and saw some breathtaking views. I also earned some uncanny stories and learned quite a few lessons.
- I remembered that I was cool again because I was who I was
- I also learned that traveling alone isn't for me. I like to share experiences too much, and it's so much harder to get out of the hostel and see things when you don't have someone else around to motivate you. Having someone with you just makes that breathtaking sunset or some rock that much more extraordinary.
- A Swiss Army knife and a jar of peanut butter are some of the best utensils to bring with you.
- You don't need a camera to enjoy the sights; in fact you tend to enjoy things more without. You just see more.
- Always be ready for the unexpected.
- Long bus rides are only bearable if you can handle your inner most thoughts.
- Traveling is about you; making your own choices, doing/seeing what you want--nobody else can tell you what will happen to you.
- I am a big shower wimp: I like my water hot, dang it! And I refuse to take a cold shower.
- Sometimes you hang out with people for the company, whether or not you actually like them.
- God has done some amazing things with this world, and humans have really messed some of it up.
- When you go outside of your comfort zone, that's when the stories that you'll tell your grandchildren begin.
- I am very much connected to my family, friends, and life back in the States
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Traveling's Always an Adventure.
Simon and I left Cusco yesterday and hoped a bus to the border. The Chilean border was a lot less horrendous than I thought it would be. We got past it. Decided, hey why not break up the 30 hour bus ride and simply stay in this town called Iquique for a night?
Turns out it's a big holiday here in Chile (and also that it is Carmen's birthday). There isn't any place to sleep and it was hard enough finding a bus for Valaparìso, our next stop 24 hours away. So other than that and a few more compliacations, we're doing pretty well.
I was sad to leave Cusco; the people I meet there were quite fun. I became known as "Georgia" by some and was serenaded to the opening bars of "Georgia on My Mind" anytime I was spotted. I met a crazy Argentine, I miss my English bloke Jim, I met a very much a gentlemen Canadian, my "Mamì" from NYC, and my lovely Russian Rous.
They weren't lying when they said that Chile is more expensive. And I believe the dollar has slipped from the last time that I checked it's value. So any of you who would like to yell at the economy for me, please feel free to do so.
I also think that I have officialy run out of time and my not get to complete my goal of seeing Còrdoba. I will just have to see the money situation and also how much time I have left. Since I won't be getting down to Valpo (as they call it here) until late Thursday, and I want to get to Buenos Aires a few days before my flight... well that's what happens when you have fun.
Ok pinching pennies and the time is up! love you all and will write more later!
Turns out it's a big holiday here in Chile (and also that it is Carmen's birthday). There isn't any place to sleep and it was hard enough finding a bus for Valaparìso, our next stop 24 hours away. So other than that and a few more compliacations, we're doing pretty well.
I was sad to leave Cusco; the people I meet there were quite fun. I became known as "Georgia" by some and was serenaded to the opening bars of "Georgia on My Mind" anytime I was spotted. I met a crazy Argentine, I miss my English bloke Jim, I met a very much a gentlemen Canadian, my "Mamì" from NYC, and my lovely Russian Rous.
They weren't lying when they said that Chile is more expensive. And I believe the dollar has slipped from the last time that I checked it's value. So any of you who would like to yell at the economy for me, please feel free to do so.
I also think that I have officialy run out of time and my not get to complete my goal of seeing Còrdoba. I will just have to see the money situation and also how much time I have left. Since I won't be getting down to Valpo (as they call it here) until late Thursday, and I want to get to Buenos Aires a few days before my flight... well that's what happens when you have fun.
Ok pinching pennies and the time is up! love you all and will write more later!
Sunday, July 13, 2008
I have officially completed a Life Goal
I have been very busy the past several days, just enjoying my time here in Cusco. I've managed to have fun, meet up with people, go out, see Machu Picchu (which I have been misspelling thus far as MaNchu Picchu... opps), and start on the last week or so of traveling that I have left.
Cusco is, by far, one of my favorite cities thus far. It's beautiful with this rich history that just seeps from ever building. The day after walking into Cusco, I had tea with Andres and we both agreed that Cusco tells everyone that comes to her "I have a story and I want to tell you it." The arquitecture is very much Spanish Colonial. There are two stories to almost every building, white washed with colored trims. There are even more of my favorite bay windows that hang of the faces of the buildings from the second floors, providing a view of the cobblestoned streets where tourists and locals walk. All the streets meander.
Here there is no rhyme or reason to the streets, no Spanish plaza/block layout. There is the down-the-hill part of the city and the up-the-hill part. Becaue of its altitude, walking around Cusco can be quite tiring. Because the houses and streets extend into the surrounding hills, walking up hill provides an amazing view of all the red-orange tiled roofs that make up the city.
There are tons of old, brown cathedrals. The main plaza, La Plaza de Armas, has two. They all are built with steeples and tall, spirally spires. I look at them and think "Each of these buildings was made by man's hands. Each stone was placed in its spot with care and precision." Andres and I actually had this thought in the same moment as we were walking around Cusco after tea. We had quite a laugh once we realized that we'd been thinking the same thing.
The city of Cusco just as this soul that lives and breathes. It's not terribly congested with cars, so there is no blanket of thick, black smog hanging over everyone as they walk around. Instead you enjoy cristal blue skies with big, fluffy white clouds. There are striped flags hanging all over the city (normally indicating a place of rest). They are in the colors of the rainbow, so most tourists like to make fun of Cusco's flag as the "gay pride" flag. The main plaza is beautiful and clean. Green, green grass, blooming flowers, flanked by two old Cathedrals and other colonial buildings with open galleries and balconies. The city is actually pretty large, but even in the center it feels a little small, homey.
My hostel has one of these balconies that looks onto a smaller plaza, la Plaza de San Fransico. At night, a group of kids meets up, and accompanied by a traditional flute player adult, they practice what the hostel employers have told me are traditional, regional dances. I watched this 3 year old hopping around, not quite on time, but doing better than I would have. The kids are young, from around 8-14 years old. I am amazed at the precision and control that the boys seem to have over the bodies, even at this age.
I spoke about the green on the plaza. There is a green here; it is lush and full, but it doesn't compare to the variety of greens that can be found at Iguazu Falls. It's more a sub-tropcial region, not a full blown tropical one. The earth is a mix of brown and gray.
On the 9th, the city pretty much closed down and there were tons of protests and marches. The people came out on the streets and chanted, carrying banners. The native women of this area dress a lot like the native women of Bolivia. However, Peruvian women wear a base of black and then there color comes from emborderied designs on their clothing. They also wear little, flat hats with tassles on them to shade themselves from the sun.
For the first few days I ran into a lot of people from my bus, or people that I had seen when crossing the Bolivian-Peruvian border. It was fun to catch up with them and ask them how they were doing, what their story was, etc.
I've done a couple of tours while I've been in Cusco. One was a city tour where I went to some of the surrounding ruins in Cusco and learned SO much about the Incans. First off: 'Inca' actually means 'King.' So the people were not the 'Incans' but either Quechua people or another type. And the more that I learn about these people, the more I am completely astounded by them. They were so smart and intelligent! Where did they get it all from?
I visited several sights, including Sacsayhuamán (a temple sight that means 'Zig Zag lines' [Cusco was laid out by one of the Incan kings in the shape of a puma (powerful symbol of the Incans), and Sacsayhuamàn are the markings of its throat]), Q'enko (a temple sight to the Pachamama, or Mother Earth), Puca Pucara (a resting post and storage place) in the grand infrastructure of the Incan routes) and Tambo Machay (a beautiful resting area that used to be a lodge and where you can still see the waterfalls the Incans built. Very peaceful).
On my tour I met a girl from Hong Kong, so I had company for most of the day, which was nice. Ting and I also met these two little Peruvian girls at the end of our tour. Their names where Joana (6) and Melisa (4). They could both count (and showed us that they could) in English. Melisa invited us to her house, which was followed by very breathy and descriptive directions to where we could find her house and if we just knocked on the door, either her brother or her father or herself would answer and invite us in. She was still young and went to kindergarten, which wasn't too far away; she can walk to and from there alone (wooow! ;) ). Joanna, older, was attending school and liked it alot. It was really awesome to be able to talk to these little girls. They brightened my day and in the end I got a hug from each of them. I told them to stay in school.
I stayed at this great hostel called Pirwa, located on the Plaza San Fransisco. There I met this amazing girl named Rouslana (Rous). She is from Southern Russia and speaks Russian, English, French and Spanish. She loves languages and wants to learn even more. She is a truly beautiful person. She actually is also studying abroad in Buenos Aires, but for two semesters. She has an amazing grip on the language, which I envy and admire, and she is just a truly great person. Loads of fun. Dark featured with lighter skin. Easy going.
And the real story: Machu Picchu. I walked around town a bit trying to find the best deal to get to Machu Picchu. I finally decided to go with a tour that my hostel offered. I know I overpaid, but 1) I wanted to make sure that I could actually get there, 2) I didn't want to go at attempting to piece things together by myself, and 3) I didn't want to go by myself. So I signed up for a 2 day, 1 night tour which would take me throught the Sacred Valley, where I got to see some other amazing Incan ruins, end up in Aguas Calientes (the town at the base of Machu Picchu), getting up early, bus transfers to Machu Picchu and entrance fee. I signed up with Paul, the English guy that I met on the bus to Cusco, before the stops. It was nice to have company. Everything went pretty well. The lodging in Aguas Calientes where we stayed was very nice. I also ran into Rous, so I was very excited that I was going to experience Machu Picchu with her.
We got up at 4:30am (after running into Luis from Colombia, who was very drunk, where we had a long, late conversation about things in general and where I decided that he was very immature and self-righteous) and it was raining. We met our guide and climbed on board the buses to ride up to Machu Picchu. We finally entered the park. It was very cloudy and wet. You couldn't see hardly anything. I was a little worried at first that the day would be ruined by the clouds, but I also knew that the clouds would disperse as the day went on. But it was also cool to know that I was IN a cloud (kindaof another life goal).
Rous and I went on a Spanish tour of the grounds, while Paul went on an English one. I found the tour so helpful. We discovered so many amazing things. Rous and I are now with the conspiracy theory that was brought to light by Indiana Jones (who was based after Hiram Brigham, the discovery of Machu Picchu in 1911) about the great civilization and aliens.
It was pretty much everything I could hope for. I loved walking around. I ended up just sitting for a while, watching, listening, feeling. I really hope my disposible camera pictures come out, haha. As you walk the grounds, you just are in awe of these people and what they could do. I had so much fun. I actually ran into Diana and Miranda, who had just come of the Incan Trail trek and were finishing up the 5 day trek. It was nice to seem them and they seemed excited to see me.
There's so much to write, and right now I don't have time to relate it all. But, if you're going to Machu Picchu... it's worth having a goal to show you around and help you understand one of the most amazing places on Earth.
It's weird to think that I have officially completed a life goal. I don't feel any more complete, but it's just knowing that that part of my life has been completed. That's a weird feeling.
Cusco is, by far, one of my favorite cities thus far. It's beautiful with this rich history that just seeps from ever building. The day after walking into Cusco, I had tea with Andres and we both agreed that Cusco tells everyone that comes to her "I have a story and I want to tell you it." The arquitecture is very much Spanish Colonial. There are two stories to almost every building, white washed with colored trims. There are even more of my favorite bay windows that hang of the faces of the buildings from the second floors, providing a view of the cobblestoned streets where tourists and locals walk. All the streets meander.
Here there is no rhyme or reason to the streets, no Spanish plaza/block layout. There is the down-the-hill part of the city and the up-the-hill part. Becaue of its altitude, walking around Cusco can be quite tiring. Because the houses and streets extend into the surrounding hills, walking up hill provides an amazing view of all the red-orange tiled roofs that make up the city.
There are tons of old, brown cathedrals. The main plaza, La Plaza de Armas, has two. They all are built with steeples and tall, spirally spires. I look at them and think "Each of these buildings was made by man's hands. Each stone was placed in its spot with care and precision." Andres and I actually had this thought in the same moment as we were walking around Cusco after tea. We had quite a laugh once we realized that we'd been thinking the same thing.
The city of Cusco just as this soul that lives and breathes. It's not terribly congested with cars, so there is no blanket of thick, black smog hanging over everyone as they walk around. Instead you enjoy cristal blue skies with big, fluffy white clouds. There are striped flags hanging all over the city (normally indicating a place of rest). They are in the colors of the rainbow, so most tourists like to make fun of Cusco's flag as the "gay pride" flag. The main plaza is beautiful and clean. Green, green grass, blooming flowers, flanked by two old Cathedrals and other colonial buildings with open galleries and balconies. The city is actually pretty large, but even in the center it feels a little small, homey.
My hostel has one of these balconies that looks onto a smaller plaza, la Plaza de San Fransico. At night, a group of kids meets up, and accompanied by a traditional flute player adult, they practice what the hostel employers have told me are traditional, regional dances. I watched this 3 year old hopping around, not quite on time, but doing better than I would have. The kids are young, from around 8-14 years old. I am amazed at the precision and control that the boys seem to have over the bodies, even at this age.
I spoke about the green on the plaza. There is a green here; it is lush and full, but it doesn't compare to the variety of greens that can be found at Iguazu Falls. It's more a sub-tropcial region, not a full blown tropical one. The earth is a mix of brown and gray.
On the 9th, the city pretty much closed down and there were tons of protests and marches. The people came out on the streets and chanted, carrying banners. The native women of this area dress a lot like the native women of Bolivia. However, Peruvian women wear a base of black and then there color comes from emborderied designs on their clothing. They also wear little, flat hats with tassles on them to shade themselves from the sun.
For the first few days I ran into a lot of people from my bus, or people that I had seen when crossing the Bolivian-Peruvian border. It was fun to catch up with them and ask them how they were doing, what their story was, etc.
I've done a couple of tours while I've been in Cusco. One was a city tour where I went to some of the surrounding ruins in Cusco and learned SO much about the Incans. First off: 'Inca' actually means 'King.' So the people were not the 'Incans' but either Quechua people or another type. And the more that I learn about these people, the more I am completely astounded by them. They were so smart and intelligent! Where did they get it all from?
I visited several sights, including Sacsayhuamán (a temple sight that means 'Zig Zag lines' [Cusco was laid out by one of the Incan kings in the shape of a puma (powerful symbol of the Incans), and Sacsayhuamàn are the markings of its throat]), Q'enko (a temple sight to the Pachamama, or Mother Earth), Puca Pucara (a resting post and storage place) in the grand infrastructure of the Incan routes) and Tambo Machay (a beautiful resting area that used to be a lodge and where you can still see the waterfalls the Incans built. Very peaceful).
On my tour I met a girl from Hong Kong, so I had company for most of the day, which was nice. Ting and I also met these two little Peruvian girls at the end of our tour. Their names where Joana (6) and Melisa (4). They could both count (and showed us that they could) in English. Melisa invited us to her house, which was followed by very breathy and descriptive directions to where we could find her house and if we just knocked on the door, either her brother or her father or herself would answer and invite us in. She was still young and went to kindergarten, which wasn't too far away; she can walk to and from there alone (wooow! ;) ). Joanna, older, was attending school and liked it alot. It was really awesome to be able to talk to these little girls. They brightened my day and in the end I got a hug from each of them. I told them to stay in school.
I stayed at this great hostel called Pirwa, located on the Plaza San Fransisco. There I met this amazing girl named Rouslana (Rous). She is from Southern Russia and speaks Russian, English, French and Spanish. She loves languages and wants to learn even more. She is a truly beautiful person. She actually is also studying abroad in Buenos Aires, but for two semesters. She has an amazing grip on the language, which I envy and admire, and she is just a truly great person. Loads of fun. Dark featured with lighter skin. Easy going.
And the real story: Machu Picchu. I walked around town a bit trying to find the best deal to get to Machu Picchu. I finally decided to go with a tour that my hostel offered. I know I overpaid, but 1) I wanted to make sure that I could actually get there, 2) I didn't want to go at attempting to piece things together by myself, and 3) I didn't want to go by myself. So I signed up for a 2 day, 1 night tour which would take me throught the Sacred Valley, where I got to see some other amazing Incan ruins, end up in Aguas Calientes (the town at the base of Machu Picchu), getting up early, bus transfers to Machu Picchu and entrance fee. I signed up with Paul, the English guy that I met on the bus to Cusco, before the stops. It was nice to have company. Everything went pretty well. The lodging in Aguas Calientes where we stayed was very nice. I also ran into Rous, so I was very excited that I was going to experience Machu Picchu with her.
We got up at 4:30am (after running into Luis from Colombia, who was very drunk, where we had a long, late conversation about things in general and where I decided that he was very immature and self-righteous) and it was raining. We met our guide and climbed on board the buses to ride up to Machu Picchu. We finally entered the park. It was very cloudy and wet. You couldn't see hardly anything. I was a little worried at first that the day would be ruined by the clouds, but I also knew that the clouds would disperse as the day went on. But it was also cool to know that I was IN a cloud (kindaof another life goal).
Rous and I went on a Spanish tour of the grounds, while Paul went on an English one. I found the tour so helpful. We discovered so many amazing things. Rous and I are now with the conspiracy theory that was brought to light by Indiana Jones (who was based after Hiram Brigham, the discovery of Machu Picchu in 1911) about the great civilization and aliens.
It was pretty much everything I could hope for. I loved walking around. I ended up just sitting for a while, watching, listening, feeling. I really hope my disposible camera pictures come out, haha. As you walk the grounds, you just are in awe of these people and what they could do. I had so much fun. I actually ran into Diana and Miranda, who had just come of the Incan Trail trek and were finishing up the 5 day trek. It was nice to seem them and they seemed excited to see me.
There's so much to write, and right now I don't have time to relate it all. But, if you're going to Machu Picchu... it's worth having a goal to show you around and help you understand one of the most amazing places on Earth.
It's weird to think that I have officially completed a life goal. I don't feel any more complete, but it's just knowing that that part of my life has been completed. That's a weird feeling.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Mi Ângel Andrès
In my last blog I left everyone in a type of lurch: Peru was causing route cuts (much like Argentina) the following day and if I didn't get out of Copacabana fast, that was the end of it!! Ok, no really. More like I would have spent a looaadd of time in Copacabana.
I hopped on a bus, exited Bolivia, walked to Peru, got stamped, got on another bus. Talked to an English guy. Well, he talked. Got to Puno (Peru side of Lake Titicaca) then was rushed onto another bus to head to Cusco. Totally didn't have to pay extra, by the way, for those of you remembering my last little incident from Potosì and Sucre, it was actually what was supposed to be happening. What we didn't realize was that the reason we were being rushed on the bus was because the route cuts were starting... that night.
We made it about 120km from Cusco. Our driver had to go around large stones thrown in the middle of the road, we had to pay 10 soles (Peruvian currency) at one stop, and generally we were wary of the trek. Most of the time we just kindaof had to talk to the people and then men from our bus would disembark, move rocks out of the way, hop back on board, and we'd be off.
During the ride, I was placed next to a group of 7 Uruguayan tourists. I made it clear that I spoke Spanish, but they weren't very interested in talking with me which was OK. I read my book. What was nice about sitting with them though was the fact that they were very aware of what was going on with the route cuts. They constantly checked in with the driver, and for the most part, I just eavesdropped and picked up the information as they passed it around themselves.
We reached 120Km from Cusco around 3am. And that's where we stayed the night. There were too many rocks and locals around. They refused to budge the blockade. I dozed a little. Around 5am one of the leaders stood up and gave a big speech. Around 7ish, us tourists started getting off the bus and milling around, trying to gather information.
There were many, many different stories. One was that we were less than 24km from Cusco. Another was that we were more than 100km. The majority of the locals didn't really even know why they were protesting; they were just doing it. It upset me that they would make fun of us and laugh at us (tourists). They kept saying, like it was an excuse, "You didn't know there were going to be route cuts?" Naturally our response was "We didn't expect them to start last night.. we expected them tonight."
There were rumors that the locals would let us through around 2pm. There was no food or water. Finally we got enough concrete information that there was, indeed, a town down the way were there might be buses or taxis to Cusco.
People started peeling off into groups. Some people decided to walk, some decided to stay. There was a little shop about 15 minutes down the road that some people wanted to go to to buy food. I was floating between groups, listening in to conversation, relying sketchy information back to the people that didn't speak Spanish. I met up with this Colombian named Luis. He was hell bent on not going, but eventually changed his mind. But not before he introduced me to the angel that God sent me today: Andrès.
Most of the groups that had decided to walk had already left. Luis was in one of the last ones. I still hadn't decided whether I was just going to the little town or try to walk however long it might be to another town. Waiting to the side was another Colombian, Andrès. As everyone else walked on, Andrès stood quietly with his pack, eating an orange and drinking yogurt. He had actually food (I myself had about a liter of water, a PBJ sandwich, yogurt, Peanut butter, and jelly).
I asked him if he would wait for me. He agreed. I got my pack, got ready, and we set off. Celia, I don't know why, but I think you'll know exactly what I'm talking about when I say he looked like Billy Zane (Kate Winslet's fiancè) from Titanic. I know alot of you will know who I'm talking about, but I dunno Celia I kept thinking about you all day. So anyway, Andrès looks like this actor, a little shorter, without attempting to appear sexy or ignorant. Kind eyes, a warm smile. He is 30 years old and from Bogotà, Colombia. He has been traveling South America for the last 4 months and as spent only about $600 USD. He is a civil engineer. This is the first time he's ever left his country and has already been to Ecuador, Brasil, Argentina, Chile, Bolivia, and Peru. Basically he knows most of South America. He was very kind, patient with my Spanish, and very curious about the American way of life. We discussed politics, history, and other various things. He has such a kindness and good-guy feel about him that whenever anyone passed by he greeted them and they always responded warmly. We passed Luis, my first Colombian friend, on the way and he told me that I "shouldn't fear anything with Andrès," because Luis had talked to him on the bus and decided that Andrès was "un buen tipo," a good person. We passed some women along the way, also walking because of the paro, blockades,who asked for some water. Andrès gave his water bottle to them. He always checked in on me and how I was doing.
He made the 5 hour (8:30-1:30), 15km hike feel much, much shorter.
We walked through Peru Altiplano country, through green mountains that were on either side of us. We walked over a beautiful, blue-green river. We saw locals. We saw backpackers. We saw families. We were one big community as we walked, all looking for answers, carrying everything we had with us.
There was also a lot of mixed information as we questioned people going in the opposite direction of us. Some said that there was no way any how we were going to make it to Cusco. Others said it was 6 hours until we could find transportation out. But we continued on.
Finally we made it into the town of Chucacupe. Andrès made me sit in the shade (I put sunscreen on, but I still have a funny burn pattern on me. Oh, and PS, I did reapply. Never forget. Reapplication is key) while he inquired about finding a taxi. We were joined by two Spanish men form Barcelona. Finally we found transportation to Cusco for $45 soles. I just happened to have that exact amount in my purse (I had only changed the rest of my Bolivianos at the border, in hopes of reaching Cusco and an ATM, which Copacabana lacks).
Finally we arrived in Cusco, and Andrès and I spent a good 2 hours looking for a hostel, considering neither of us had booked anything. Finally he found one that fit his budget, and I searched on. I left him my email address; we spoke of trying to get up to Manchu Picchu together (with another Colombian that we meet).
I went in search of another hostel, a chain from the one I'd stayed in during my time in La Paz. They didn't have space. At this point I was on the verge of tears, tired, very dirty, my English and Spanish were running together, and I was just plain tired and hungry. The hostel receptionist recommended another hostel down the road. I finally arrived there, where there was room and a beautiful little cat that has already made friends with me and will sit in my lap while I pet here. I had to hide my tears of joy/longing for my own cat from the receptionist.
SoI am officialy checked in at Cusco. And good thing. While the stops started last night, that was only the provencial areas. Tomorrow, all of Cusco is shutting down. I have no idea what I am going to be able to do tomorrow. There's even rumor that transportation going up to Manchu Picchu will stop. Who knows.
But after checking in, I found an ATM. And I also found out that Cusco has lots of backpack places. I stopped in the first one I found and inquired about prices. I found a nice little day pack that fits my needs for$10 USD. While I may have made a hasty buy, none of the other stores will be open tomorrow and I was just ready for a new bag!!!! It will serve it's purpose and that's the point.
OK. I'm going back to my hostel right now, showering, turning in the other half of my clothes for washing, finding food, and trying to figure out what I can do tomorrow. Chau!
So it appears I meet a lot of Colombians on my trip. Actually I encounter way more Israliel and Irish people. Australians and New Zealanders are also high on the list.
I hopped on a bus, exited Bolivia, walked to Peru, got stamped, got on another bus. Talked to an English guy. Well, he talked. Got to Puno (Peru side of Lake Titicaca) then was rushed onto another bus to head to Cusco. Totally didn't have to pay extra, by the way, for those of you remembering my last little incident from Potosì and Sucre, it was actually what was supposed to be happening. What we didn't realize was that the reason we were being rushed on the bus was because the route cuts were starting... that night.
We made it about 120km from Cusco. Our driver had to go around large stones thrown in the middle of the road, we had to pay 10 soles (Peruvian currency) at one stop, and generally we were wary of the trek. Most of the time we just kindaof had to talk to the people and then men from our bus would disembark, move rocks out of the way, hop back on board, and we'd be off.
During the ride, I was placed next to a group of 7 Uruguayan tourists. I made it clear that I spoke Spanish, but they weren't very interested in talking with me which was OK. I read my book. What was nice about sitting with them though was the fact that they were very aware of what was going on with the route cuts. They constantly checked in with the driver, and for the most part, I just eavesdropped and picked up the information as they passed it around themselves.
We reached 120Km from Cusco around 3am. And that's where we stayed the night. There were too many rocks and locals around. They refused to budge the blockade. I dozed a little. Around 5am one of the leaders stood up and gave a big speech. Around 7ish, us tourists started getting off the bus and milling around, trying to gather information.
There were many, many different stories. One was that we were less than 24km from Cusco. Another was that we were more than 100km. The majority of the locals didn't really even know why they were protesting; they were just doing it. It upset me that they would make fun of us and laugh at us (tourists). They kept saying, like it was an excuse, "You didn't know there were going to be route cuts?" Naturally our response was "We didn't expect them to start last night.. we expected them tonight."
There were rumors that the locals would let us through around 2pm. There was no food or water. Finally we got enough concrete information that there was, indeed, a town down the way were there might be buses or taxis to Cusco.
People started peeling off into groups. Some people decided to walk, some decided to stay. There was a little shop about 15 minutes down the road that some people wanted to go to to buy food. I was floating between groups, listening in to conversation, relying sketchy information back to the people that didn't speak Spanish. I met up with this Colombian named Luis. He was hell bent on not going, but eventually changed his mind. But not before he introduced me to the angel that God sent me today: Andrès.
Most of the groups that had decided to walk had already left. Luis was in one of the last ones. I still hadn't decided whether I was just going to the little town or try to walk however long it might be to another town. Waiting to the side was another Colombian, Andrès. As everyone else walked on, Andrès stood quietly with his pack, eating an orange and drinking yogurt. He had actually food (I myself had about a liter of water, a PBJ sandwich, yogurt, Peanut butter, and jelly).
I asked him if he would wait for me. He agreed. I got my pack, got ready, and we set off. Celia, I don't know why, but I think you'll know exactly what I'm talking about when I say he looked like Billy Zane (Kate Winslet's fiancè) from Titanic. I know alot of you will know who I'm talking about, but I dunno Celia I kept thinking about you all day. So anyway, Andrès looks like this actor, a little shorter, without attempting to appear sexy or ignorant. Kind eyes, a warm smile. He is 30 years old and from Bogotà, Colombia. He has been traveling South America for the last 4 months and as spent only about $600 USD. He is a civil engineer. This is the first time he's ever left his country and has already been to Ecuador, Brasil, Argentina, Chile, Bolivia, and Peru. Basically he knows most of South America. He was very kind, patient with my Spanish, and very curious about the American way of life. We discussed politics, history, and other various things. He has such a kindness and good-guy feel about him that whenever anyone passed by he greeted them and they always responded warmly. We passed Luis, my first Colombian friend, on the way and he told me that I "shouldn't fear anything with Andrès," because Luis had talked to him on the bus and decided that Andrès was "un buen tipo," a good person. We passed some women along the way, also walking because of the paro, blockades,who asked for some water. Andrès gave his water bottle to them. He always checked in on me and how I was doing.
He made the 5 hour (8:30-1:30), 15km hike feel much, much shorter.
We walked through Peru Altiplano country, through green mountains that were on either side of us. We walked over a beautiful, blue-green river. We saw locals. We saw backpackers. We saw families. We were one big community as we walked, all looking for answers, carrying everything we had with us.
There was also a lot of mixed information as we questioned people going in the opposite direction of us. Some said that there was no way any how we were going to make it to Cusco. Others said it was 6 hours until we could find transportation out. But we continued on.
Finally we made it into the town of Chucacupe. Andrès made me sit in the shade (I put sunscreen on, but I still have a funny burn pattern on me. Oh, and PS, I did reapply. Never forget. Reapplication is key) while he inquired about finding a taxi. We were joined by two Spanish men form Barcelona. Finally we found transportation to Cusco for $45 soles. I just happened to have that exact amount in my purse (I had only changed the rest of my Bolivianos at the border, in hopes of reaching Cusco and an ATM, which Copacabana lacks).
Finally we arrived in Cusco, and Andrès and I spent a good 2 hours looking for a hostel, considering neither of us had booked anything. Finally he found one that fit his budget, and I searched on. I left him my email address; we spoke of trying to get up to Manchu Picchu together (with another Colombian that we meet).
I went in search of another hostel, a chain from the one I'd stayed in during my time in La Paz. They didn't have space. At this point I was on the verge of tears, tired, very dirty, my English and Spanish were running together, and I was just plain tired and hungry. The hostel receptionist recommended another hostel down the road. I finally arrived there, where there was room and a beautiful little cat that has already made friends with me and will sit in my lap while I pet here. I had to hide my tears of joy/longing for my own cat from the receptionist.
SoI am officialy checked in at Cusco. And good thing. While the stops started last night, that was only the provencial areas. Tomorrow, all of Cusco is shutting down. I have no idea what I am going to be able to do tomorrow. There's even rumor that transportation going up to Manchu Picchu will stop. Who knows.
But after checking in, I found an ATM. And I also found out that Cusco has lots of backpack places. I stopped in the first one I found and inquired about prices. I found a nice little day pack that fits my needs for$10 USD. While I may have made a hasty buy, none of the other stores will be open tomorrow and I was just ready for a new bag!!!! It will serve it's purpose and that's the point.
OK. I'm going back to my hostel right now, showering, turning in the other half of my clothes for washing, finding food, and trying to figure out what I can do tomorrow. Chau!
So it appears I meet a lot of Colombians on my trip. Actually I encounter way more Israliel and Irish people. Australians and New Zealanders are also high on the list.
Monday, July 7, 2008
so much for the birth place of the Incan Empire....
I believe I have official hit the biggest down point in my entire trip, even more so than my bag being taken. I arrived in Copacabana, Bolivia, Lake Titicaca today around 1pm. I found a hostel, meet an Irish girl named Rosie on the street, had lunch, and then went about arranging my day for tomorrow. I was going to hike with Rosie (and my Australian friend, Simon, from La Paz who was to meet me in Copa.) to a high point in town and watch the sunset over Lake Titicaca. Then I was going to spend the next day on the Isla del Sol (birth cradle of the Incan civilization) and hike from the north point to the south point, return to Copa and then catch a night bus to Cusco.
No such luck.
I had a great time with Rosie. Simon actually showed up in Copacabana. Peru decided to have a strike for the next two days making bus transportation impossible until Thursday. I am 20 minutes from hopping a bus tonight to Cusco... which means I don't get to spend time with my new friends :( I am severely bummed.
I tried to work out staying in Copacabana until Thursday, but then I realized that I wouldn't get to see Valaparíso, which I want to see even more than Copacabana. Simon and I might be able to meet up in Cusco... but we'll see. He kindaof decided last night (while we were out with a group of people) to join up with me in Copacabana. Being myself, I feel responsible for "draggin" him out here... but in reality it was on his travel plans anyway. I just liked having a friend and I hated having to cancel on so many people.
I guess I'm meant to save Copa until the next time. Blog when I'm in Cusco.
No such luck.
I had a great time with Rosie. Simon actually showed up in Copacabana. Peru decided to have a strike for the next two days making bus transportation impossible until Thursday. I am 20 minutes from hopping a bus tonight to Cusco... which means I don't get to spend time with my new friends :( I am severely bummed.
I tried to work out staying in Copacabana until Thursday, but then I realized that I wouldn't get to see Valaparíso, which I want to see even more than Copacabana. Simon and I might be able to meet up in Cusco... but we'll see. He kindaof decided last night (while we were out with a group of people) to join up with me in Copacabana. Being myself, I feel responsible for "draggin" him out here... but in reality it was on his travel plans anyway. I just liked having a friend and I hated having to cancel on so many people.
I guess I'm meant to save Copa until the next time. Blog when I'm in Cusco.
Sunday, July 6, 2008
What happens when you mix Australian, Irish, and an American?
I ended up staying in La Paz another night. Partly because I never really got around to buying a ticket to Copacabana, my next stop. I was debating doing it the hardcore travel way which means going to the La Paz cemetary and taking a local bus 4 hours or buying a tourist ticket and being on a tourist bus for that time. I finally decided that I should probably stick with the tourist bus. It costs more, but I am also alone and the Lord knows I don't need anymore incidents. I leave at 7:30am tomorrow to head on in my trek!
Yesterday, after I blogged, I walked around the artesanal market called "The Witches' Market." The name comes not only from the random trinkets, but also for selling old, herbal remedies. They also like to sell mummified, baby bird/llama looking things. I bought some little trinkets, but my search for a backpack was completely futile. Most (quality) bags were around $USD 65, none of which I was particularly found of, and I would rather spend 60 Bolivianos for a brightly, clashing colored woven bag and then have another reminder from my solo trip in South America. Naturally, when I decided that, I suddenly couldn't find a good enough bag. *sigh* well I still have time.
Actually I have just a little over 2 weeks left! EEKS! The hardest part will be getting over the border from Valaparìso (Chile) to Mendoza (Argentina). Seeing as it's very much winter down there right now, and I will have to pass through the Andes, I have heard rumors of buses having to return to Chile because of snow blockages. Therefore, I need to keep this factor in mind as I travel.
But back to La Paz, where I currently am. La Paz reminds me of Mexico City, in a way. La Paz is a city of hills, hills, and more hills. You are never at the top, but you are never at the bottom. You literally walk uphill both ways... The houses fight with each other for a bit of uphill to build on. They climb up the surrounding sides and nestle. When I rode in at dawn the other day, the city was in a semi-darkness with all the street lights lit. Because of the geography and the layout of the city, when I arrived, La Paz looked like a huge blanket of rolling lights. Where the mountain jutted up, and there were no houses, there was a pitch black hole in the blanket. While Mexico City is a bit flatter, the same thing occurred when we flew in at night--there where black spots in a huge blanket of lights. The effect is definitely one of the coolest things I've seen.
I have been huffing and puffing quite a bit. Luckily, the altitude doesn't get me too much. Symptoms include nausea, headache, loss of appetite, dizziness, among other things. When I was in the salt flats (which were some 4300 km above sea level), I felt the altitude in my jaw (I figure that really means my ear canals where adjusting). Also I had to make sure not to overstuff myself (really hard when you are cold and it's amazing how high altitudes make you hungry) or else I would feel nauseous. I used coca leaves in Salta and drank coca tea in the salt flats. It's amazing how much it helps! I was a little worried about coming up from Sucre (the lowest altitude I've been at in a week), but I haven't had anything coca to help me. Instead I've been eating chocolate... and that seems to be helping.
Speaking of coca leaves, I visited the Coca Museum yesterday. It was pretty cool, actually. It explained the usage of the coca plant through the ages. I learned a lot that I didn't know about the coca plant. Coca, by the way, is a little bitter, but has a very earth, strong smell and taste to it. You can tell when people nearby are eating it because of its distinctness.
One of the most interesting things I learned about the coca plant is the Coca Legend. Used mainly by Andean people, the coca plant, according to their legends, was given to them by the Gods gave the plant to help ease their suffering. Coca has many medicinal properties and has been proven to help create endurance in hard labor, depress appetite, and help with altitude sickness. The Gods left very specific instructions about how the leaf should be used. They also made a prediction about "But if your torturer, who come from the North/the white conqueror, the gold seeker, should touch it/he will find in it only.../poison for his body/and madness for his mind" (AntonioDíaz Villamil-If you want to read the whole legend/doctrine (which is very interesting) check out http://www.cocamuseum.com/main.htm and click on the numbers. The script comes up).
I just found the entire museum fasinating. They even showed how cocaine is made in the sense of all the horrible chemicals put into its production. The museum also has anti-drug program to promote the disuse of cocaine and crack. I could go on for days about coca leaves now, but if you really want to know, you can ask me and I'll tell you. I'll save you a longer blog.
PS: Coca leaves are completely legal here in Bolivia for less than 250 gm. As the museum explains, and I've picked up, coca leaves are a social lubricant (they are a ritual and a social thing), much like alcohol is for Western society.
I have also visited the National Art Museum (loads of Virgin Marys) and a Textile Museum of surrounding cultures textiles. Some dated back to pre-colombian (before the arrival of Colombus) times. I also learned the the Bolivian purses that the women carry are called Awayu-Ilijlla.
The women, by the way, are much fancier here in the city. They tend to wear actually skirts (opposed to blankets) with shiny, silky-looking fabric. I saw an Afro-Indigenous Bolivian woman today. I was taken back to see (what looked like to me) an African walking around in traditional Bolivian garb. It makes sense, though, because the Spanish brought African slaves with them as they took over South America. I think in the area it was to work alongside the native people in the mines. I'm sure the workers intermarried or maybe some slaves even escaped and found refugee in indegienous villages.
Today I woke up, showered in the perfect shower, gathered some dirty laundry together, and went of in search of a laundry place and a bus ticket on this generally, very shut down, Sunday in La Paz. I found this guy who would do my 3 kilos (about 6 pounds) of laundry for 20 bolivianos, and deliver it to the hostel same day, but he seemed... a little sketchy. Like his office was this side, plastic windowed corner in the middle of a hallway of some place. And he wanted me to pay straight up. I turned him down. Luckily, I found another place (a chain off of the one my hostel recommended) where I have to pay 1 boliviano more and return myself to get my laundry. So I'll need to pay for a taxi, but I feel like my clothes are safer. Clean socks tonight!
I also found a bus ticket for tomorrow. And that's all I've really done today. I was going to try to go see La Valle de la Luna, but that involves getting on a La Pazian bus (eeehhhh) and there's also this huge market fair thing in the middle of the main street right now... so I think I'll wonder and find some food and call it a day. Maybe a nap.
Yesterday, after I blogged, I walked around the artesanal market called "The Witches' Market." The name comes not only from the random trinkets, but also for selling old, herbal remedies. They also like to sell mummified, baby bird/llama looking things. I bought some little trinkets, but my search for a backpack was completely futile. Most (quality) bags were around $USD 65, none of which I was particularly found of, and I would rather spend 60 Bolivianos for a brightly, clashing colored woven bag and then have another reminder from my solo trip in South America. Naturally, when I decided that, I suddenly couldn't find a good enough bag. *sigh* well I still have time.
Actually I have just a little over 2 weeks left! EEKS! The hardest part will be getting over the border from Valaparìso (Chile) to Mendoza (Argentina). Seeing as it's very much winter down there right now, and I will have to pass through the Andes, I have heard rumors of buses having to return to Chile because of snow blockages. Therefore, I need to keep this factor in mind as I travel.
But back to La Paz, where I currently am. La Paz reminds me of Mexico City, in a way. La Paz is a city of hills, hills, and more hills. You are never at the top, but you are never at the bottom. You literally walk uphill both ways... The houses fight with each other for a bit of uphill to build on. They climb up the surrounding sides and nestle. When I rode in at dawn the other day, the city was in a semi-darkness with all the street lights lit. Because of the geography and the layout of the city, when I arrived, La Paz looked like a huge blanket of rolling lights. Where the mountain jutted up, and there were no houses, there was a pitch black hole in the blanket. While Mexico City is a bit flatter, the same thing occurred when we flew in at night--there where black spots in a huge blanket of lights. The effect is definitely one of the coolest things I've seen.
I have been huffing and puffing quite a bit. Luckily, the altitude doesn't get me too much. Symptoms include nausea, headache, loss of appetite, dizziness, among other things. When I was in the salt flats (which were some 4300 km above sea level), I felt the altitude in my jaw (I figure that really means my ear canals where adjusting). Also I had to make sure not to overstuff myself (really hard when you are cold and it's amazing how high altitudes make you hungry) or else I would feel nauseous. I used coca leaves in Salta and drank coca tea in the salt flats. It's amazing how much it helps! I was a little worried about coming up from Sucre (the lowest altitude I've been at in a week), but I haven't had anything coca to help me. Instead I've been eating chocolate... and that seems to be helping.
Speaking of coca leaves, I visited the Coca Museum yesterday. It was pretty cool, actually. It explained the usage of the coca plant through the ages. I learned a lot that I didn't know about the coca plant. Coca, by the way, is a little bitter, but has a very earth, strong smell and taste to it. You can tell when people nearby are eating it because of its distinctness.
One of the most interesting things I learned about the coca plant is the Coca Legend. Used mainly by Andean people, the coca plant, according to their legends, was given to them by the Gods gave the plant to help ease their suffering. Coca has many medicinal properties and has been proven to help create endurance in hard labor, depress appetite, and help with altitude sickness. The Gods left very specific instructions about how the leaf should be used. They also made a prediction about "But if your torturer, who come from the North/the white conqueror, the gold seeker, should touch it/he will find in it only.../poison for his body/and madness for his mind" (AntonioDíaz Villamil-If you want to read the whole legend/doctrine (which is very interesting) check out http://www.cocamuseum.com/main.htm and click on the numbers. The script comes up).
I just found the entire museum fasinating. They even showed how cocaine is made in the sense of all the horrible chemicals put into its production. The museum also has anti-drug program to promote the disuse of cocaine and crack. I could go on for days about coca leaves now, but if you really want to know, you can ask me and I'll tell you. I'll save you a longer blog.
PS: Coca leaves are completely legal here in Bolivia for less than 250 gm. As the museum explains, and I've picked up, coca leaves are a social lubricant (they are a ritual and a social thing), much like alcohol is for Western society.
I have also visited the National Art Museum (loads of Virgin Marys) and a Textile Museum of surrounding cultures textiles. Some dated back to pre-colombian (before the arrival of Colombus) times. I also learned the the Bolivian purses that the women carry are called Awayu-Ilijlla.
The women, by the way, are much fancier here in the city. They tend to wear actually skirts (opposed to blankets) with shiny, silky-looking fabric. I saw an Afro-Indigenous Bolivian woman today. I was taken back to see (what looked like to me) an African walking around in traditional Bolivian garb. It makes sense, though, because the Spanish brought African slaves with them as they took over South America. I think in the area it was to work alongside the native people in the mines. I'm sure the workers intermarried or maybe some slaves even escaped and found refugee in indegienous villages.
Di and Miranda ended up catching another bus to Cuzco, so they never came to the hostel. But it turned out OK. I met a lot of great people and had a fabulous night last night. I meet these 2 Irish sisters (Barbara and Kate- ps: Lindsay, I missed you) who had been traveling together and had joined this girl from Holland. Ruth, from Holland, has actually been interning in Buenos Aires the past few months, so we had a pleasant conversation about Buenos Aires. I also meet this Australian guy with 3 different passports named Phillip. He's going to be traveling the Eastern Coast of the States soon, so I gave him all my favorite cities on the way and places to eat. There were also two Australian girls (Susan and Karen). So we all hung out. We went out for sushi. It took us 20 minutes just to find the place because taxi drivers here don't have a clue where they are going. When we arrived the place was closing so we hurried up and ordered and ate fast sushi. Enjoyed the company. After that we hung out at the hostel, meet some South Africans and we all chatted. Finally we went out to a club called Orange, which was a pretty big bust. Literally. When we showed up there were police everywhere. From what we can gather the police were searching for drugs (they even checked behind the bottles behind the bar) and a good majority of the people left. The club wasn't terrible crowded and the music was pretty weird, but I enjoyed myself. I made the best out of it that I could.
Today I woke up, showered in the perfect shower, gathered some dirty laundry together, and went of in search of a laundry place and a bus ticket on this generally, very shut down, Sunday in La Paz. I found this guy who would do my 3 kilos (about 6 pounds) of laundry for 20 bolivianos, and deliver it to the hostel same day, but he seemed... a little sketchy. Like his office was this side, plastic windowed corner in the middle of a hallway of some place. And he wanted me to pay straight up. I turned him down. Luckily, I found another place (a chain off of the one my hostel recommended) where I have to pay 1 boliviano more and return myself to get my laundry. So I'll need to pay for a taxi, but I feel like my clothes are safer. Clean socks tonight!
I also found a bus ticket for tomorrow. And that's all I've really done today. I was going to try to go see La Valle de la Luna, but that involves getting on a La Pazian bus (eeehhhh) and there's also this huge market fair thing in the middle of the main street right now... so I think I'll wonder and find some food and call it a day. Maybe a nap.
Saturday, July 5, 2008
La Paz- Fake Capital of Bolivia
I took a night bus (full cama (bed) style) but it didn't stop it from being cold.. again. No frost on the windows, though, that I noticed. I sat next to this nice French-Swiss girl named Tamara. So it was Tam and Sam... haha.... ok I laughed.
I got here around 8 in the morning and am still waiting for a room at the Loki Hostel in La Paz. It's a big party hostel which is obvious because 1) the bar in the hostel, 2) the latest check out I've seen thus far... 1 pm. So basically, while I made reservations, I still have to wait until 1 to see if I can get a room. But I saw Diana and Miranda on the list... so maybe they'll show up soon.
I can already tell that I would like to stay here for more time, but that I would also like to have someone with me. However, while I do want to stay, Manchu Picchu and Chile are calling my name. I guess that's what a 5 year,various entry, $100 visa to Bolivia is all about.
It's about 8.35 AM and nothing gets started until like 10ish... so I have some time to kill. I will be visiting various places and a few musuems today. I will also be trying to find a new backpack. I hate walking around with plastic bags. It makes me feel even more vulnerable. Tomorrow I will be heading to Copacabana and will spend a couple of days there enjoying one of the highest lakes in the world, and also the birth cradle of the Incan Empire.
PS- check out http://picasaweb.google.com/dbush009 for pictures of my 4 day tour from Tupiza to Uyuni
I got here around 8 in the morning and am still waiting for a room at the Loki Hostel in La Paz. It's a big party hostel which is obvious because 1) the bar in the hostel, 2) the latest check out I've seen thus far... 1 pm. So basically, while I made reservations, I still have to wait until 1 to see if I can get a room. But I saw Diana and Miranda on the list... so maybe they'll show up soon.
I can already tell that I would like to stay here for more time, but that I would also like to have someone with me. However, while I do want to stay, Manchu Picchu and Chile are calling my name. I guess that's what a 5 year,various entry, $100 visa to Bolivia is all about.
It's about 8.35 AM and nothing gets started until like 10ish... so I have some time to kill. I will be visiting various places and a few musuems today. I will also be trying to find a new backpack. I hate walking around with plastic bags. It makes me feel even more vulnerable. Tomorrow I will be heading to Copacabana and will spend a couple of days there enjoying one of the highest lakes in the world, and also the birth cradle of the Incan Empire.
PS- check out http://picasaweb.google.com/dbush009 for pictures of my 4 day tour from Tupiza to Uyuni
Friday, July 4, 2008
Sucre, mi linda
I really love me some Sucre. Where should I start? Perhaps with how I managed to get to Sucre.
I booked a ticket from Uyuni to Sucre, overnight bus. It had a stop in Potosí, where Miranda and Diana where going, so I got to ride along with them. It cost me double what it cost them, even though Sucre is only like 3-4 hours away from Potosí. When we arrived in Potosí, I said goodbye to the ladies and got ready for a couple more hours on the bus. However the conductor came on and told me that "my car" was ready to take me to Sucre. I was confused. I thought my bus was going direct. I asked the conductor, he told me no. I collected my bag (haha, I was about to write bagS... syke) and was shown by the conductor to a nice young guy who showed me to his car. I wasn't terrible worried because the guy looked pretty clean cut (other than the mound of coca leaves in his cheek, which made him look like half a chipmunk) and the car was newer. At this point I realized, however, that I was being put into a shared taxi--something not uncommon for the short distances between Sucre and Potosí. The problem was that I realized I was being jipped for money because this guy (Ismael) was expecting that I pay for the ride.
As I was realizing this, Ismael (who I found out was 22 and liked to go to discos (clubs)...) was searching for other passengers. There was a strong lack of them. He offered to take me "express service" for 100 bolivianos or about $18. I, however, didn't want to pay, so I held out for 2 hours until we found some other passengers. (thus I only had to pay an extra 40 bolivianos)
Ismael was quite the talker. And once I found out that he was 22 he found out that I had a "boyfriend" waiting for me back in the States. After asking me only 5 times if I liked going to clubs, he relaxed and I firmly believe he was just looking for a little company to reduce the late drive to Sucre. He dropped me right off at my hostel door right around 5 am.
The next morning I awoke, took my first shower in 5 days. Well, hot shower. Then, because my hostel was near the bus station (for safety, late night arrival purposes considering I thought I was arriving via bus), I went and bought my ticket to La Paz, then headed into town (about 2km) to find another hostel more central. I sure am glad I did.
While the hostel was pretty deserted when I arrived and settled in, Sucre wasn't. This town is so beautiful. It's full of old Spanish colonial architecture. The houses are no more than 2 stories, with white washed walls and deep, earth colored trims. Mainly trims are in a deep brown wood, golden rod or slight pinky-orange paint. There are all these little wooden balconies that could be called bay windows peeking out onto the streets. There aren't many trees on the streets, but you can see the sky because the buildings aren't that tall so you don't feel starved for nature.
The main plaza (25 de mayo) is beautiful. There are lots of tall, old, green trees (and palm trees are also used here for landscaping, just like the BA), a gazebo, a fountain, benches, people, and pigeons. It is so peaceful and lovely. I bought myself a salteña (Bolivian empanada) and a chipa (amazing cheese ball of goodness) and sat on the square to take in Sucre. I got to watch all the people and families, and was pressured by two shoeshine boys to get my mesh sneakers cleaned. I watched this cute-as-a-button 5 yearold girl start crying in .0005 seconds when the pigeons attacked her for throwing crumbs at her. It was kindaof cute... she was so happy then they swarmed and she freaked out. Two minutes later she was all sorts of happy again, though. I bought chocolate, becaue Sucre is known for it's chocolate. It's ok. Quality, but nothing spectacular. Still didn't stop me from buying myself chocolate covered peanuts and raisins.
I went to the super market and bought some bread and yougurt. As I was checking out I noticed this little, shallow wooden dish where the customer placed their cash and the cashier placed the change. In this way, there was no skin contact. I just thought it was interesting because it was the first place I've run into it, so I figured I'd write the observation in my blog.
I visited the Liberty House on the plaza, took a tour and learned a lot about Bolivia as a country. I took the tour with a group of Bolivians and a Spaniard, so it was in Spanish. I enjoyed the tour, but felt like I probably missed out on a few details becaue the tour guide figured everyone already knew the story of the independence of Bolivia. While she was very infomative, the tour guide looked more bored with her job than any other I have seen. She talked bored, she looked bored, she cleaned her fingernails when she'd finished her little speech and was waiting to continue.
The exciting things that I learned, despite her boredness, were as follows:
I booked a ticket from Uyuni to Sucre, overnight bus. It had a stop in Potosí, where Miranda and Diana where going, so I got to ride along with them. It cost me double what it cost them, even though Sucre is only like 3-4 hours away from Potosí. When we arrived in Potosí, I said goodbye to the ladies and got ready for a couple more hours on the bus. However the conductor came on and told me that "my car" was ready to take me to Sucre. I was confused. I thought my bus was going direct. I asked the conductor, he told me no. I collected my bag (haha, I was about to write bagS... syke) and was shown by the conductor to a nice young guy who showed me to his car. I wasn't terrible worried because the guy looked pretty clean cut (other than the mound of coca leaves in his cheek, which made him look like half a chipmunk) and the car was newer. At this point I realized, however, that I was being put into a shared taxi--something not uncommon for the short distances between Sucre and Potosí. The problem was that I realized I was being jipped for money because this guy (Ismael) was expecting that I pay for the ride.
As I was realizing this, Ismael (who I found out was 22 and liked to go to discos (clubs)...) was searching for other passengers. There was a strong lack of them. He offered to take me "express service" for 100 bolivianos or about $18. I, however, didn't want to pay, so I held out for 2 hours until we found some other passengers. (thus I only had to pay an extra 40 bolivianos)
Ismael was quite the talker. And once I found out that he was 22 he found out that I had a "boyfriend" waiting for me back in the States. After asking me only 5 times if I liked going to clubs, he relaxed and I firmly believe he was just looking for a little company to reduce the late drive to Sucre. He dropped me right off at my hostel door right around 5 am.
The next morning I awoke, took my first shower in 5 days. Well, hot shower. Then, because my hostel was near the bus station (for safety, late night arrival purposes considering I thought I was arriving via bus), I went and bought my ticket to La Paz, then headed into town (about 2km) to find another hostel more central. I sure am glad I did.
While the hostel was pretty deserted when I arrived and settled in, Sucre wasn't. This town is so beautiful. It's full of old Spanish colonial architecture. The houses are no more than 2 stories, with white washed walls and deep, earth colored trims. Mainly trims are in a deep brown wood, golden rod or slight pinky-orange paint. There are all these little wooden balconies that could be called bay windows peeking out onto the streets. There aren't many trees on the streets, but you can see the sky because the buildings aren't that tall so you don't feel starved for nature.
The main plaza (25 de mayo) is beautiful. There are lots of tall, old, green trees (and palm trees are also used here for landscaping, just like the BA), a gazebo, a fountain, benches, people, and pigeons. It is so peaceful and lovely. I bought myself a salteña (Bolivian empanada) and a chipa (amazing cheese ball of goodness) and sat on the square to take in Sucre. I got to watch all the people and families, and was pressured by two shoeshine boys to get my mesh sneakers cleaned. I watched this cute-as-a-button 5 yearold girl start crying in .0005 seconds when the pigeons attacked her for throwing crumbs at her. It was kindaof cute... she was so happy then they swarmed and she freaked out. Two minutes later she was all sorts of happy again, though. I bought chocolate, becaue Sucre is known for it's chocolate. It's ok. Quality, but nothing spectacular. Still didn't stop me from buying myself chocolate covered peanuts and raisins.
I went to the super market and bought some bread and yougurt. As I was checking out I noticed this little, shallow wooden dish where the customer placed their cash and the cashier placed the change. In this way, there was no skin contact. I just thought it was interesting because it was the first place I've run into it, so I figured I'd write the observation in my blog.
I visited the Liberty House on the plaza, took a tour and learned a lot about Bolivia as a country. I took the tour with a group of Bolivians and a Spaniard, so it was in Spanish. I enjoyed the tour, but felt like I probably missed out on a few details becaue the tour guide figured everyone already knew the story of the independence of Bolivia. While she was very infomative, the tour guide looked more bored with her job than any other I have seen. She talked bored, she looked bored, she cleaned her fingernails when she'd finished her little speech and was waiting to continue.
The exciting things that I learned, despite her boredness, were as follows:
- Bolivia was once one of the richest areas in the Spanish colonies
- Independence was like the USA-to separate or to not?
- I saw some beautiful traveling writing desks that were enlaid with different colored and textured wood--all by hand
- Bolivia has the original Argentine flag and Argentina can't get it back because if you move the 106 year flag it will degrade
- Sucre is the offical capital of Bolivia and always has been--La Paz is where the government head is
- The Bolivian flag's colors have special meaning: Red for the blood shed during the revolution, Yellow for the natural mineral wealth that Bolivia has and Green for the natural wealth of vegatation that Bolivia has
- The flag has a special, very complicated emblem that is placed in the middle of the flag. However, there is a law aganist flying a flag with the emblem in any place other than important governmental buildings or during special state ceremonies. Many Bolivians don't know about the law and are being corrected in their flag flying actions
- Juana Azurduy de Padilla--If I were to write a play, it would be about her. This woman was the wife of Manuel Padilla. In support of her husband, Juana fought along side him IN battle for the independence of Bolivia. At first she had to hide because of her husband's politics. She lost her four small children because of terrible hiding situations. She then joined him in battle. She was a skilled horsewoman and swordswoman. She ended up leading over 250 men in battle. She got pregnant again, fought front lines during the 9 months, gave birth in battle, then had to flew on horseback (RIGHT after giving birth) something like 55 km. She gave her baby daughter to some country family for protection and then returned to fight in the battle. Her husband ended up being decapitated; she continued fighting. When the war ended (7 years later), she found her daughter again and lived with her. Sadly, this brave woman died alone, as her daughter got married and left her. Her bones are now laid to rest with her husband's in the Liberty House. I bought a book on her in Spanish that I am currently reading.
After that, I had a tea and read my book. Then I went in search of replacement of stolen items. I bought a disposible camera for less than $10 and might go buy another for backup. I stumbled into this HUGE market where I'm about to go back to find some more things before I leave tonight. One of which will be a day backpack. I've decided I can't go another day without one. I suppose I could wait til I got to La Paz... but I don't know if they'll cost more or not. hmm. dilema, dilema.
Later I went to a pub called "Joy Ride" whose motto translates to "not just for gringos." I watched the film "The Devil's Miner," a documentary about a 14 year old miner in Potosí. It was very good. I went back to my hostel, chatted with my roommate from Ireland, then passed out because I'd only had 3 hours of sleep the night before.
Today I went on a DinoTrack. About 15 minutes from the downtown area, in 1948, they found a huge wall of dinosaur tracks. A wall, you might ask? Well once apon a time, Bolivia was flat. Then about some odd amount of millions of years ago, the Andes formed. Because of the formation of the Andes, the lake shore (where the tracks where formed) were pulled vertical. We saw several life size structures of how humans think dinosaurs looked. It was pretty cool. My tour guide was very enthusiastic and spoke rather good English. Why an Engish tour? Because I met this lovely young English girl named Hannah who doesn't speak Spanish.
After the tour, Hannah and I had lunch, walked around for a bit and then parted ways. Hopefully I will see her in Buenos Aires when I return, seeing as she is heading that way for the end of her South American trip. I continued on to the city cemetary which has Recolta beat. Instead of being a city of tombs, it was like a park where tombs happened to grow.
So that has been my time here in Sucre. I leave in little more than an hour and a half for La Paz. I hope all is well and you learned something new like I did!
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Rustic Bolivia: It's the national theme
I left Salta, Argentina on the 27th of June. Miranda, Diana, and I hopped on a midnight bus to La Quiaca, the border town of Argentina and Bolivia. We froze. There was ice and frost on the inside of the bus windows when we got to La Quiaca at 7ish in the morning. We then basically walked across the border into La Villazón (Bolivian boarder town), flashing our Bolivian visas, and freezing our bums off. We walked bleary eyed to the bus station and bought tickets to Tupiza, where our 4 day southwestern Bolivia.
Walking across the boarder, there is a distinct difference between Argentina and Bolivia. Once you cross the boarder toward Bolivia, it's like the rainbow exploded all over the people. The women walk around slightly hunched over, carrying brightly patterned blanket-bags. Basically they are huge squares of tela, cloth, that the women tie together and sling over their backs. They carry everything in there-from babies to toddlers to other blankets to... whatever. A Bolivian purse if you will. The women are dressed in bowler hats, with two long, black braids that trail down their backs when they arent carrying a 50 pound kid. They dress in blouses and skirts that hit just above the knee. The skirts are kindaof layered. They also are colorful. There are petticoats under that. Then they wear stockings or dark, knee-high, thick socks. To finish it off they were loafer-looking shoes or sandals. The socks and sandals thing is very in here...and with reason with the drops in temperature between the day and night.
People are, for the most part (which I'm about to explain), are also a lot nicer. As the tired trio stumbled up to the bus station with two things in mind (bathroom and bus tickets), some nice older Bolivian man noticed the dazed looks and helped us find out where to buy tickets. First he asked where we were going, then he pointed to where we should go, and then he ushered us over to the ticket office. It was very nice.
I have another fabulous example of the niceness of the Bolivians, but first I have to explain the not so nice part of them.
After buying tickets, using a bathroom (always an adventure here in Bolivia), we boarded the bus to Tupiza. As we were waiting, I shared a little Lonely Planet (tour guide book) wisdom: watch your bags when you get on because many times "family members" will get on board while the bus is boarding and snatch your bag.
I got visited by a distant "family member."
Yes, that's right folks-you read it correctly. Samantha Hiner managed to get robbed from... again. This time, however, I lost my camera, pictures, journal from all of my stay here in Argentina, my glasses, my Bible, my Lonely Planet, and various other things, such as toiletries. I had myself a nice little cry. I felt (wait... feel) dumb because 1) I'd warned Miranda and Diana just moments before, and 2) because it happened right over my head. I'd put my bag in the overhead compartment right over my seat and then settled in. Apparently I got too distracted. But Miranda and I decided that because I wrote in my journal in Spanish, my family member was going to read it, repent, learn English, read my Bible and Lonely Planet and become a philanthropist.
So how does this show the niceness of Bolivians? Well Miranda was next to me and Diana was across the way. Sitting next to Diana was this Bolivian woman (purse and hat to match), when she realized something was wrong, she asked what happened (as we were discussing matters in English), and then went up to tell the driver. The driver's helper came and questioned me, searched the bus and the people on it, and then STOPPED the bus to search in the under compartment, "just in case."
While I did loose a lot, and I definitely turned to Miranda and told her I wanted to go home and call it quits, looking back it really wasn't that bad. I just happened to have my passport, all my money, cards, and identification on me in that moment. There was a 30 second moment when I was about to put my passport and cards in the bag, but then decided I was too cold to undress and do it. Basically it comes down to a huge annoyance. I have to find another day bag and I'm super paranoid about everyone and everything.
The nice thing was that I was about to go on a 4 day tour of southwestern Bolivia where I wouldn't have to worry about reality. I also was able to replace the most important toiletries fairly easily in Tupiza for less than $10 USD. They weren't lying when they said that Bolivia is cheap, cheap, cheap.
The next morning we got up and headed off. Our tour guides were from the Tupiza area: Rafael, our driver (whose shorter than me), and Lucas, our cook, second trip every. They both were pretty awesome. Lucas was younger and had this awkward laugh, but he really just loved this job and he tried soooo hard to do his job to the best possible. And he really did. I have him to thanks for eating a llama tamale, llama steak, and dulce de leche suckers. Rafael was older and has 2 kids, one is 4 months old. He was a great, great driver (very careful, but without excitmenet) and also a very informed guide. We also met Anne and Aaron from Santa Cruz, CA. Anne is a Spanish high school teacher (she thinks I'd make a great one too) and Aaron is an artist specializing in arcylic, woodcuts, and painting trees.
To save you really boring details, I'll hit the highlights. Overall, I really, really enjoyed the tour. However, it isn't for everyone. It's ALOT of time in a car, the temperature varies like crazy, and you don't shower for several days. There's lots of dust. But what I really did enjoy was this: some of the most amazing landscapes I have ever seen. My mother and father would be having fits because of all the cool rocks there are. Mom would have wanted to start regrowing her rock garden and Dad would never look at another rock on the Ocoee again. I traveled to over 5,000 km above sea leve, I saw this amazing Incan ghost town, I laughed and froze and did so much! I also fell in love with this very cute, 10 year old French boy (sorry Keith) who has a thing for jelly beans and playing war with his green, plastic army men. I listened to the Titanic theme song to a techno beat. I also went to this place called Necropolis, or city of the dead with all these old Incan skulls. There was even one with a flattened forehead! Diana and I were totally excited about that, but disappointed that we couldn't find any others like it. Miranda found two baby skulls. Overall it was really great!
I think if they were to re-name the tour I took they would have to call it one of two things; "Rustic Bolivian" or "Tour of the World's Most Awkward Animals." Rustic Bolivian because we stayed in basic shelters with a toilet and maybe running water. The water froze in the bottles most mornings and one morning we woke up to -10 degrees Fahrenheit!! There was also a lot of peeing in the wilderness and hand sanitizer.
I would call it "Tour of the World's Most Awkward Animals" because of all the awkward animals we saw. Daddy--this would be your tour, man. First there are the llama. I have never realized how funny they are until I saw them running away from me and watched their little prissy butt run. They look like the creature at the beginning of one of the Star Wars movies that Han Solo has to cut open to save Luke Skywalker. (takes a moment to recover from her geekiness) There are also Vicuna, which are like llama, but protected from poaching and more wild. They kindaof look like deer with giraffe necks. And when they run, their body runs straight, but their head kindaof leans out to the side. I don't know how they stop themselves from running in circles. I also saw ostriches. I don't think I need to explain why those are awkward, nor all the donkeys we saw. I saw this rabbit-squirrel (Viscotcha), but it looks like a rabbit with a squirrel tail and runs/hops like a squirrel. Then I saw flamencos. Hundreds of them. It was so sweet. We got really close to them. There are also, what I call, Bolivian seagulls, though they can't be seagulls because there isn't a sea.
Ok: That's all I can do now. I have official used up the siesta time here and am going to go find out about a tour tomorrow to go look at dinosaur prints.
Walking across the boarder, there is a distinct difference between Argentina and Bolivia. Once you cross the boarder toward Bolivia, it's like the rainbow exploded all over the people. The women walk around slightly hunched over, carrying brightly patterned blanket-bags. Basically they are huge squares of tela, cloth, that the women tie together and sling over their backs. They carry everything in there-from babies to toddlers to other blankets to... whatever. A Bolivian purse if you will. The women are dressed in bowler hats, with two long, black braids that trail down their backs when they arent carrying a 50 pound kid. They dress in blouses and skirts that hit just above the knee. The skirts are kindaof layered. They also are colorful. There are petticoats under that. Then they wear stockings or dark, knee-high, thick socks. To finish it off they were loafer-looking shoes or sandals. The socks and sandals thing is very in here...and with reason with the drops in temperature between the day and night.
People are, for the most part (which I'm about to explain), are also a lot nicer. As the tired trio stumbled up to the bus station with two things in mind (bathroom and bus tickets), some nice older Bolivian man noticed the dazed looks and helped us find out where to buy tickets. First he asked where we were going, then he pointed to where we should go, and then he ushered us over to the ticket office. It was very nice.
I have another fabulous example of the niceness of the Bolivians, but first I have to explain the not so nice part of them.
After buying tickets, using a bathroom (always an adventure here in Bolivia), we boarded the bus to Tupiza. As we were waiting, I shared a little Lonely Planet (tour guide book) wisdom: watch your bags when you get on because many times "family members" will get on board while the bus is boarding and snatch your bag.
I got visited by a distant "family member."
Yes, that's right folks-you read it correctly. Samantha Hiner managed to get robbed from... again. This time, however, I lost my camera, pictures, journal from all of my stay here in Argentina, my glasses, my Bible, my Lonely Planet, and various other things, such as toiletries. I had myself a nice little cry. I felt (wait... feel) dumb because 1) I'd warned Miranda and Diana just moments before, and 2) because it happened right over my head. I'd put my bag in the overhead compartment right over my seat and then settled in. Apparently I got too distracted. But Miranda and I decided that because I wrote in my journal in Spanish, my family member was going to read it, repent, learn English, read my Bible and Lonely Planet and become a philanthropist.
So how does this show the niceness of Bolivians? Well Miranda was next to me and Diana was across the way. Sitting next to Diana was this Bolivian woman (purse and hat to match), when she realized something was wrong, she asked what happened (as we were discussing matters in English), and then went up to tell the driver. The driver's helper came and questioned me, searched the bus and the people on it, and then STOPPED the bus to search in the under compartment, "just in case."
While I did loose a lot, and I definitely turned to Miranda and told her I wanted to go home and call it quits, looking back it really wasn't that bad. I just happened to have my passport, all my money, cards, and identification on me in that moment. There was a 30 second moment when I was about to put my passport and cards in the bag, but then decided I was too cold to undress and do it. Basically it comes down to a huge annoyance. I have to find another day bag and I'm super paranoid about everyone and everything.
The nice thing was that I was about to go on a 4 day tour of southwestern Bolivia where I wouldn't have to worry about reality. I also was able to replace the most important toiletries fairly easily in Tupiza for less than $10 USD. They weren't lying when they said that Bolivia is cheap, cheap, cheap.
The next morning we got up and headed off. Our tour guides were from the Tupiza area: Rafael, our driver (whose shorter than me), and Lucas, our cook, second trip every. They both were pretty awesome. Lucas was younger and had this awkward laugh, but he really just loved this job and he tried soooo hard to do his job to the best possible. And he really did. I have him to thanks for eating a llama tamale, llama steak, and dulce de leche suckers. Rafael was older and has 2 kids, one is 4 months old. He was a great, great driver (very careful, but without excitmenet) and also a very informed guide. We also met Anne and Aaron from Santa Cruz, CA. Anne is a Spanish high school teacher (she thinks I'd make a great one too) and Aaron is an artist specializing in arcylic, woodcuts, and painting trees.
To save you really boring details, I'll hit the highlights. Overall, I really, really enjoyed the tour. However, it isn't for everyone. It's ALOT of time in a car, the temperature varies like crazy, and you don't shower for several days. There's lots of dust. But what I really did enjoy was this: some of the most amazing landscapes I have ever seen. My mother and father would be having fits because of all the cool rocks there are. Mom would have wanted to start regrowing her rock garden and Dad would never look at another rock on the Ocoee again. I traveled to over 5,000 km above sea leve, I saw this amazing Incan ghost town, I laughed and froze and did so much! I also fell in love with this very cute, 10 year old French boy (sorry Keith) who has a thing for jelly beans and playing war with his green, plastic army men. I listened to the Titanic theme song to a techno beat. I also went to this place called Necropolis, or city of the dead with all these old Incan skulls. There was even one with a flattened forehead! Diana and I were totally excited about that, but disappointed that we couldn't find any others like it. Miranda found two baby skulls. Overall it was really great!
I think if they were to re-name the tour I took they would have to call it one of two things; "Rustic Bolivian" or "Tour of the World's Most Awkward Animals." Rustic Bolivian because we stayed in basic shelters with a toilet and maybe running water. The water froze in the bottles most mornings and one morning we woke up to -10 degrees Fahrenheit!! There was also a lot of peeing in the wilderness and hand sanitizer.
I would call it "Tour of the World's Most Awkward Animals" because of all the awkward animals we saw. Daddy--this would be your tour, man. First there are the llama. I have never realized how funny they are until I saw them running away from me and watched their little prissy butt run. They look like the creature at the beginning of one of the Star Wars movies that Han Solo has to cut open to save Luke Skywalker. (takes a moment to recover from her geekiness) There are also Vicuna, which are like llama, but protected from poaching and more wild. They kindaof look like deer with giraffe necks. And when they run, their body runs straight, but their head kindaof leans out to the side. I don't know how they stop themselves from running in circles. I also saw ostriches. I don't think I need to explain why those are awkward, nor all the donkeys we saw. I saw this rabbit-squirrel (Viscotcha), but it looks like a rabbit with a squirrel tail and runs/hops like a squirrel. Then I saw flamencos. Hundreds of them. It was so sweet. We got really close to them. There are also, what I call, Bolivian seagulls, though they can't be seagulls because there isn't a sea.
Ok: That's all I can do now. I have official used up the siesta time here and am going to go find out about a tour tomorrow to go look at dinosaur prints.
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