Landing High

Feb. 20, 2006-La Paz
(Photos:Street hawker,
Typical Bolivian attire)

I slept more on the flight to Bolivia than on any other flight. We landed on time, our luggage arrived, and the Overseas Adventure Travel representative was right where he was supposed to be. This is the first year OAT has returned to Bolivia after the political unrest. David remarked that when we came down to land at 13,000+ feet altitude we didn’t have very far to go. Our landing threaded between the snow-covered Andes and onto the tarmac with a rather stiff legged bump.

We’ve been taking diamox for altitude sickness and it may be working. We’re tired but aren’t experiencing nausea, swelling, sleeplessness, headaches, and dizziness. We are a bit winded but that will fade. We also had a cup of cacao tea, which is supposed to help.

Pedro, our guide took us to La Plaza Hotel. He’s a college graduate, majored in tourism and was in the Bolivian navy. Since the country is landlocked he made a joke of it. He served on Lake Titicaca. He told us a bit about the area. Bolivia has the highest airport, the highest soccer stadium, and the shortest people. Non-Bolivians call them “duck-chested” because of the adaptation of their barrel chests to increased lung capacity. They have 30% more red blood cells as well due to the altitude. When they go down to lower levels they suffer as we do at the higher ones.

La Paz is 1500 feet lower than the airport and sits in a natural bowl that once contained a sea. Sandstone pillars that look like sand castles giant children might have built frame the approach to the city. Bolivia has the largest Indian population in South America and, yes, the women do wear bowler hats that look two sizes too small. The fashion was appropriated from the English and Scottish who settled here. The bowler has become as essential to women’s dress as the tie has become to the business suit.

The hotel has five-stars on the door but I rate it a three-minus. It’s clean but the rooms are shabby. Lunch was buffet style and we fell in love with a typical soup made with tapioca called quinua (keen-wah). Our rooms overlook Mt. Illimani, which is the desirable exposure away from the street noise, ho wever,between our view and the mountain is a school. We napped despite announcements over the public address system, a rousing soccer game, and band practice. Uphill

We rested for an hour after lunch and all but four joined in an afternoon stroll lasting 2 ½ hours. The major part was all up hill. We were winded at times but caught our breath easily and went on. The dozen or so steps leading into a bank were an unforeseen challenge but we survived that too. At the end of the walk we were doing much better.

Pedro’s command of English is superb. He shepherded us through daunting traffic and introduced us to Bolivian street culture by pointing out the men in blue vests. Their job is to rent you the use of their cell phones. The masked men who looked like banditos were in the shoeshine business. Their faces are wrapped in heavy wool swaths so only their eyes show. Shoe shining is thought to be the lowest of low work a Boliviano can do. Many of the workers are teens and are teased mercilessly by their peers if it becomes known what they do to earn money. The masks aren’t to protect them from the polish fumes but from harassment and humiliation.

One enterprise I’d never seen until today was the building and selling of models for school children to buy instead of building themselves. When assignments are made to build a model of a certain street with historic buildings, the model-makers get busy and hawk the ready-made wares. Imagine the market for science projects. One thing about this city; there are lots of dogs but the streets are pretty clean. But the people and especially the children don’t smile. They don’t even look happy when they’re paid to have their picture taken or money is dropped in their cup when they entertain. Sad.

Pedro explained that the mountains are still holy symbols of mother earth to the Indians. The traditional dress of the indigenous women echo that shape. They are narrow at the top with the bowler hat to mark the peak, their shawls flare out into an inverted triangle, and the costume ends with a flared multi-layered skirt reminiscent of the Spanish petticoats. Even though most have converted to Catholicism, the Indians still observe ancient traditions. Every August 1,000 llamas are sacrificed for Mother Earth. Greenpeace has a huge problem with that and have urged them not to kill so many “for nothing.” The Indians take offense since the offering is for their belief, not for nothing.

Background

Simon Bolivar brought independence to Bolivia in 1835, but Indians didn’t gain their freedom until 1953. Even though they built the grandest church in La Paz they weren’t allowed in to pray in it until the 1970’s. The church has stained glass windows circa the 1980’s and the most prominent one behind the pulpit depicts angels singing, politicians, and soldiers.

Pedro was excited to see a peaceful demonstration in Plaza Murillo. In 2003 there were riots, bullets fired, and many died. Although soldiers stood ready looking like Ninja Turtles in full battle gear with tufted bulletproof vests and shields there was no violence. The plaza is a bloody site where executions of every sadistic bent have taken place. Across the street we stopped at the mausoleum of Andres De Santa Cruz, the real father of Bolivia. He was a mestizo leader who picked up the marbles after Bolivar sashayed into town, pronounced independence, and left everyone at loose ends. Santa Cruz was a lawyer and soldier who brought order to independence. He died a pauper in France in his 50’s.

Pedro mentioned a couple of celebrities who blew into town around 1911. Evidently this is where Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid settled. They were intent on finding the central bank and robbing it but banking wasn’t that organized back then. They stayed on and worked in the mines.

We came upon what was called Jewish Street and is now Commerce St. There used to be a sizeable Jewish community here and there’s still a synagogue that we may or may not find. Pedro said that most of the Jews went to Argentina and the U.S.

Today Bolivia and Peru are talking about an alliance that would rank their gas reserves ahead of Venezuela. They’re enjoying a peaceful interlude between upheavals and are hopeful about the future. Peace comes to an end next week. It’s Carnivale. We get to experience it in Peru.

Tonight I ate llama. It’s an animal that would be considered kosher and fit to eat since it has cloven hooves and chews its cud. I know it wasn’t one they sacrificed last August. Pedro said that they bury them all. Llama doesn’t taste like chicken. It has a beefy flavor with a slight undertone of liver.

Toby