Bye Bye, Bolivia

My friend Kaitlin arrived in La Paz early on the morning of May 16, and we hit the ground running. After a day walking around the city (including a trip to the Zona Sur, the uppity part of the city--it was almost like Las Vegas), we set off for new horizons.

Let's be honest: La Paz is a difficult city. It's so high up that you have to be careful not to exert yourself too much, yet every street besides the main one is on a steep incline. The poverty is overwhelming. It was (for me) a very unintelligible place. I wasn't sad to move on. (Neither was Kaitlin.)

So, with the help of our faithful and newly hired guide Alejandro, we departed the city of La Paz early on the morning of the 17th for the ruins of the ancient city of Tiwanaku, located about an hour to the west of La Paz by vehicle. We walked around there for a couple hours, and it was amazing, although it doesn't compare to the archeological sites of Peru. The problem is that the Tiwanaku buildings were looted by the Incas, who conquered them around the 1100s or so. But it was cool to see how the Tiwanakus set the stage for later Inca innovations, in terms of irrigation, astronomy, building technologies and the arts. Here we are at the largest-surviving monument within the city of Tiwanaku: the door of the sun. On the winter solstice, the sun rises directly over this.

We spent that night in Copacabana, on the shores of Lake Titicaca. This is the sunset that night:

The next day, we sailed to the Sun Island, where supposedly the Sun God Inti Raimi comes from. There were some amazing Inca ruins:

And then we left Bolivia, and crossed into Peru:

We have been in Cusco now for a couple of days, but that's another whole blog entry. So stay tuned...

Welcome to the Jungle(s)

I have been in Bolivia since Friday night, first in La Paz, and then in Coroico. This country is the kind of place that assaults you the second you arrive, with new smells, people in your face, and a general sense of foreignness (at least in my case). It has not been easy.
I guess one problem is that I'm used to being in Chile, and to me, Chile has become metonymic for Latin America. Chile is familiar, and easy, and I guess I sort of expected that the rest of this continent would be too. So I was taken by surprise at how different everything is here. It was sort of an unrealistic expectation, though.
My only consolation is that even Bolivians are foreigners in their own land, on some level or another. This country is full of divisions that cause its citizens to look at one another as "others": Divisions between east and west (La Paz and Santa Cruz, collas and cambas), divisions between the rich and poor (this is something Bolivia has in common with the rest of Latin America), divisions between politicians and those they represent, divisions between whites and indigenous people (I read in the newspaper that this country has been living a "de facto apartheid" since colonial times), divisions among indigenous groups (Quechuas, Aymaras, Guaraní...), and geographic divisions that make it very difficult to move around the country. So, there is basically no way for anyone--Bolivian or foreigner--to ever fully understand all aspects of this country.
I do feel very detached from this culture, though. This is partly because both the US and Chile are countries "non gratos" here: Chile because it usurped Bolivia's coastline (and an area full of copper and other natural resources) during the War of the Pacific, thereby (as Bolivians see it) permanently crippling its ability to export its goods and generate wealth; the US is not so well looked-upon either, due to its ongoing meddling in Bolivian affairs (spraying coca crops in the name of the War on Drugs, and imposing neoliberal economic systems, etc. etc.).
Anyway, I got to La Paz on a bus from Putre (Chile) on Friday evening, and walked around the city's main streets on Friday and Saturday. La Paz is built inside a deep canyon, 4000 m above sea level. So one's first approach to it is looking down into it. There is one main street that runs along the bottom, and then all other streets go uphill on each side. The city itself seems like it's threatening to slide down onto you at any minute.
Most of the sidewalks are taken up by stands, where mostly women sell everything from dried llama fetuses (!) to weavings, to adult diapers, to flowers, to powdered milk, to hot foods. Most sidewalks on the streets leading away from the main street are stairways because they are so steep. There are very few traffic signals, so you kind of have to cross the street and dodge cars (kind of like that Frogger episode of Seinfeld). Indigenous women with gold teeth, in thick skirts and bowler hats, carrying enormous loads on their back, sell pocket-sized kleenex packages in front of Burger King. That is a very La Paz image for you. I haven't taken any pictures of them, because I think it would be disrespectful.
Here is a picture of a park in La Paz:
Then on Sunday morning I took a bus to Coroico, 2000 m downhill and over mountains into a new Department of the country, the Yungas. Coroico is built on a mountain, which means that it has spectacular views. It had a lush feel to it (and the ensuing bugs--thank you Lisa Whelan for taking me to REI to buy repellant in April!), with amazing flowers and animals. I stayed at a beautiful place called Sol y Luna, where I had a hammock with a view, and a private room and bathroom, for like $4 a night (Bolivia is cheap). It was a nice place to just read and relax. I am reading "The Savage Detectives" by Roberto Bolaño. It's awesome, and I think an English translation just came out. I highly recommend it.
This is Coroico:
Take care for now!

Bienvenido a Bolivia

Después de 6 horas de viaje desde Putre, llegué a La Paz ayer en la tarde. La Paz es como la mina Chuquicamata, en el sentido de que es un enorme rajo abierto, pero en este caso hay ciudad adentro--abajo y creciendo arriba por los costados. Con la montaña Illimani al sur, encima de todo. Las calles cerca de mi hostal son como La Vega, si la hubieran puesto en la Alameda de Santiago. Y si todos los puestos fueran atendidos por mujeres aymaras con sus sombreros negros y cargando bultos enormes en sus espaldas.

Llegando a la ciudad era algo impresionante: hay una carretera que va alrededor de la ciudad por como medio kilómetro y ahí puedes ver toda la ciudad desde encima. Y después bajas al cañón.

La gente ha sido súper simpática, por la mayoría, a pesar de mi acento chileno. El tipo que atendía en el Museo del Litoral Boliviano ("El mar era, y será, de Bolivia") me preguntó con tono de sospecha si era chileno, y casi dije que sí pero al final le dije la verdad nomás. Y había otro tipo en la calle, un borrachín, que me dijo que volviera a mi país (creo que se refería a EEUU). O sea, estoy cagado si me hago el gringo y estoy cagado si me hago el chileno. Jajaja. Tranquilo, pues, hermano.

Es un cambio porque físicamente no me parezco a ningún boliviano y de repente me siento súper conspicuo. Pero nada que hacer...me voy a acostumbrar.

La comida es interesante. Comí ahora para el almuerzo un guiso de cerdo y ají amarillo, con choclo y papa. Comida bastante criolla. Y una Paceña. Excelente.

Estoy disfrutando mis caminos por las calles, observando la gente (desde las mujeres indígenas pidiendo limosna hasta los funcionarios públicos saliendo del trabajo) y sacando fotos. Las cuales se subirán al blog muy luego, se lo prometo.

Saludos.