Sunday, Oct. 09, 2005
Trains, Planes, and Flotas...Travels is Bolivia Part 2
If you missed the first part, you can find it here.
August 23
After a nice, warm sleep, we get up early in the morning and boarded another flota heading back to Potos�. This was another 6 hours of endless rocks and dust, and I again, the brother and sister duo did not say a word to me the entire time. I just put on my headphones and looked at the nothingness outside.
When we got to our hostel, I was pretty much just ready to relax, since I hate long car/bus rides. M and A decided that they wanted to go to the market to look for souvenirs. I didn�t want to, so I declined. They left and didn�t come back for 4 hours.
What really pissed me off is that all we had eaten all day was breakfast. Now, I wasn�t hungry when we had first reached, but I got hungry a couple hours later. And because I wasn�t familiar with the place, and the men there like to grope and molest women who are by themselves, I decided to wait for M and A to return. Little did I know that they had decided to go get food. Now, if they were hungry , and all 3 of us hadn�t eaten since 7, why wouldn�t they think that I would be hungry as well? Because they�re selfish and they only think about themselves. So instead of coming back to get me so that we could all eat, they just went without even thinking of me. They didn�t even bother to bring me something back. I was livid.
Well they came back to the room all full and content and started talking about how they�d met these people at lunch. This is how I knew they�d eaten. I was so flabbergasted I just didn�t even know what to say. I just watched TV.
Then, the power went out. In Bolivia, there are no breakers and no switches; just lots of live wires fused together. Remember the several places we stayed at that had electricity for a couple hours? Anyway, it looked like someone was messing around with one those wires and ruined it for the rest of us in the hotel. Luckily, there was still hot water (don�t ask me how).
That night, when they finally decided they wanted to go back out, we went to a restaurant where I was able to get some soup. Since I hadn�t eaten all day, I was hungry, but not hungry, and soup was all I could take. Then we hung out with the people who they�d met at lunch. It was fun.
August 24
This was the most insane day of the trip. We signed up to go on mine tour. When I say mine, think �Indian Jones and the Temple of Doom� mine. Before we even reached the mine, we had to sign a waiver and get outfitted in plastic pants and coat, rubber boots, and a construction hat with a light source. We looked like fucking idiots and we could tell that all the townspeople felt the same way just by the impressions on their face.
The mines we visited are actually still functioning mines. There were actually still 200 functioning mines in the mountain we went to and over 8000 miners. The miners work 8-12 hour days, sometimes 7 days a week and make anywhere from $80 to $200 dollars a month depending on what they find. Compared to what other Bolivian make at regular jobs, this is excellent pay. However, these miners are breathing in asbestos, silica dust, arsenic, and tons of other noxious gases every day all day. Although most miners don�t make it past the age of 45, in Potos�, it is a privilege and an honor to work the mines and is there is usually a family tradition of generations of the men working there.
In these mines, they are still using mining techniques used in the 1800s. Just hand tools, like chisels and hammers, and dynamite. And they used trolleys (again think Indian Jones when they were being chased in those carts on the tracks) to bring all their finds to the surface. When I say used, I mean they physically pulled and pushed these carts that had loads of about 100 lbs. Incredible, especially when you see that all the miners are no taller than about 5�1�. All this for minute amounts of silver, lead, and zinc.
Anyway, our tour guide was an ex-miner, so he taught us a lot about everything we saw. When we got into the mine, the height of the tunnels varied from 2 feet to about 5�4� There were only a few times that I could actually stand up straight (I�m 5�6�). We did a lot of bending over and crawling and pulling ourselves through these tunnels. Plus, we had to press ourselves up against the walls of the tunnel whenever a load would go by. And the elevation didn�t help any because we could only go a few feet before we�d all be completely exhausted. Not to mention that we were all breathing all that crap I mentioned above for the entire 3 hours we were in the mine. I lost my voice in the first 20 minutes and didn�t get it back until the next day.
All in all, it was an extremely cool experience. It was kind of like going back in time watching them do there thing and knowing that in the modern parts of the world, the techniques have becomes so advanced. I mean, these men wouldn�t even wear masks because they thought it would make things worse.
There was even a museum inside the mountain that showed all the tools they used way back when, which looked like the tools they use today, and a bunch of other cool stuff, including El T�o. El T�o, which means �the uncle� in English, is a representation of the Miner�s god, so to speak. He is a spirit, a Diablo, devil, that watched over the miners as they work. They bring him offerings like cigarettes, liquor, and food, to keep him happy, because if he�s happy, then the miners won�t have any accidents while they work. But, the most interesting thing about El T�o is that he has a huge erect penis. When we asked our tour guide about this, he said it was to ensure that the miners stay strong and fertile at the end of the day when they went home. This would probably explain why most of them have 8-10 children. Those poor wives.
August 25
We had breakfast, and I bought a few souvenirs. Then we grabbed a taxi and drove 2 hours back to Sucre. Sucre is known as La Ciudad Blanca, or the White City. All the houses and building are white with red rooftops. It�s really quite beautiful and a nice contrast to all the brown everywhere.
In addition to being �The White City�, Sucre is also the chocolate capital of Bolivia. So guess what we did upon arrival. We went to the finest, and most expensive chocolate shop in the city and spent a hell of a lot (really only like 6 US dollars, but 48 boliviano dollars) on all kinds, then went back to our hotel, which looked like a Spanish villa, and ate chocolate while we watched really bad movies. It was greatness.
When we�d finally had enough laziness, we went out to a local bar and ate and drank, and had an overall good time. It was really the first time we could relax because we didn�t have any tours or any traveling to do the next day.
August 26
We�re still in Sucre, which has one other distinction, it is the judicial capital of Bolivia. La Paz is the Bolivia�s capital city, but Sucre is where the supreme court building and all the judicial houses are located. We were actually able to tour the Supreme Court building, which was absolutely beautiful, but empty. Not surprising since no one in Bolivia follows any rules, probably because no in Bolivia, including the cops or military, enforces any rules. People do as they please with little to no consequences. So M, A, and I all laughed at the irony of the supreme court building and the library full of the country�s laws.
We did learn one interesting thing though. A couple years ago, Bolivia was having major political turmoil and civil unrest. It became so bad that the people rioted and overthrew the government in October of 2002. The president at that time, Goni, I think was his name, not to happy about being thrown out of office, ordered his army to shoot and kill the protestors outside his office in La Paz. Over 70 civilians were shot, point blank. Then he fled the country, to no where else, but Miami, where he still is to this day (so not surprised by this). The Bolivian government is now trying to get him extradited so that they can try him with genocide. Yes, you read that correctly, genocide.
After such an enlightening day, we could only do one thing: go back to the hotel and watch more extremely bad movies until we were so hungry we had to force ourselves to leave our beds.
During all this time, too, we were all experiencing rather bad cases of gas. I mean, every time on of us let something go, it smelled like something had died a horrible death. You know your gas is bad when you can�t even take the smell. There were a couple times when I had to cover my nose with a shirt because my shit stank worse than anything I have ever smelled before.
And the worse part was that you couldn�t hold it in. There was so much gas that it would escape on its own. That night at dinner, some gas �escaped� from me. I didn�t say anything because at first, it didn�t smell, but then about 15 seconds later, the smell hit�.just as the waitress walked up to our table. It was so bad, I covered my mouth and said out load, �oh, fuck!� A looked at me and said, �that was you? Eww. I didn�t know you did that in public.� And we both started laughing hysterically as I tried to explain that it came out on its own. At this point, the waitress is just looking at us strangely because she can�t understand anything we say. She just took our order and walked away. I felt so bad, but it was like she didn�t even notice the smell.
August 27
We leave our lovely hotel and head to the airport to return to Santa Cruz. Of course, our plane is delayed. We later find out that there was a bomb threat in Laz Plaz, the original departure point for our flight, and the plane could not leave until a thorough search was done on all the luggage. This took 2.5 hours. When the plane finally made it to Sucre, they told us that due to strong winds, they couldn�t transport all the passengers plus all the luggage. They were going to send all the passengers ahead, and then send their luggage the following day. We didn�t like that idea, so we decided to get our money back and catch the next flight the following day. What we forgot is that the following day the same flight, which would have taken us 30 minutes, would have ended up being 8 hours because they added in extra stops. So instead, we hopped on another flota, a nicer one this time where the seats converted to beds, to Samaipata. We got there at 4 in the morning and had to walk several miles with all our stuff to find anyplace that would take us in. It was very shady.
August 28
We finally find the place we were staying around 7 am. This place was gorgeous. Not to mention that the temperature was now 70-75 degrees F. Our place was actually a cabana an a farm owned by this cute, old Dutch couple who had purchased this ridiculous amount of land 22 years ago for super cheap. A complete change from the other places we had been, this place was warm and green, and had luscious trees and flowers, and animals. It was a great change.
This farm was a real functioning farm. They had a little caf� where we ate all our meals and all the ingredients were picked fresh after we ordered. The food was so good. We ate, played scrabble and cards, and slept.
August 29
After eating yummy veggie omelets and fresh squeezed juices, we went hiking in the Amboro National Park. This is where the giant ferns are. They are also monkeys, and large cats, and bears, but we didn�t see any. Mostly because it was the dry season and most of the forest was dead or shedding its winter stuff. Mostly we walked and hiked and talked about politics. (A is a flaming Republican, M is an independent, I just kept my mouth shut because I hate political arguments).
Later on that night, we got attacked by mosquitoes. Actually, the white people got attacked. I was bitten once and there was one annoying fucker that would buzz in my ear just as I was about to fall asleep, every time, all night.
M got bitten on both of her eyelids. She looked like Quasimodo light. I couldn�t even laugh at her because I honestly thought it was karma for the way she was acting the entire trip. Her lids were swollen all the next day.
August 30
The final day. We ate a good breakfast, then A and I caught our 8 am flight back to the MIA. I was exhausted, but I could not sleep on the plane, even thought it was a 6-hour flight.
I had a great time despite a few things that really bugged me. But the good definitely outweighed the bad. Plus, it was something that I probably never would have done on my own.
It was quite an experience and had definitely awakened the inner traveler within.
Oh, and if you'd like to see pictures, send me an email at [email protected]
summerroll at 4:44 p.m.