For a brief history of Bolivia, from the ancient civilizations of the Tiwanaku and the Incas to the Spanish invasion and conquest in 1531 to the long hard fight for independence, won in 1824, and the subsequent in-fighting to date (Although Bolivia has entered an unprecedented era of political stability, it follows a record of 192 coups in the 156 years from independence to 1981)............ buy a book!
Joke!!!
The Bolivian’s endless fight to win and keep their land mirrors the Bolivians' fight to preserve their traditions, such as the Pachamama ('Mother Earth'); shrines to her are found everywhere, and Bolivia is thought to be the birthplace of the Sun and the Moon (according to the Incas). 'Mother Earth', fittingly, is kind in return: Bolivia is beautiful and striking; there are currently 10 national parks and eight protected areas. Although Bolivia is landlocked (resulting from a defeat in a war with Chile in which it swiped Bolivia’s access to the sea), it never feels claustrophobic – blessed with breathtaking lakes and lofty mountains. Standing as tall as the mountains, the Bolivians’ pride for their homeland is always evident – and always justified.
Day 1 – After a marathon journey from Guatemala to San Jose, Costa Rica, to Lima, Peru, to La Paz, Bolivia, arrived at the 5* Camino Real Hotel at 130am. We descended from the airport, high up on the mountain, into the valley below, almost a thousand metres, or 3000 feet, in 20 minutes. We are still way up high in the mountains at 11000 feet. On arrival, was offered coca tea at the hotel. Everyone here is on it, it seems, to combat the effects of the altitude and provide oxygen to the blood. Hotel room / suite is lush! No real effects from Altitude sickness yet.
Day 2 – Could not get out of bed this morning. I can’t tell if it’s the altitude sickness or the amazingly comfortable bed. Didn’t move from the room all day, as had no energy and dozed in and out of consciousness all day. Eventually showered at 7pm and we headed out to a Japanese restaurant where the food was cheap and delicious. Early to bed tonight. Altitude sickness (if I even have it) should be better tomorrow.
Day 3 – It’s confirmed, I am sleeping in the comfiest bed in the world. I didn’t want to get out of bed, but room service arrived at 650 so had to get up. I looked in the mirror this morning. I have pale skin, no teeth and yellow eyes (OK, I have teeth). Enchanting, I hear you say. Somewhat different! Yes. But a little “Evil dead” too! Coffee and coca tea get me through the morning. The drive to the office through La Paz was incredible. The city really is slap bang in the middle, high up in the mountains. The scenery is stunning, the air (semi)fresh, but for the pollution. Pedestrians and vehicles fight for the roads, and neither gives a flying &*%$ about the other. Accidents are commonplace. One thing that strikes me about Bolivia (or La Paz, at least) is that it has a lot more natural character to it than Guatemala. The buildings have more character, the buzz is more enticing and the people who wear indigenous dress are not just a small minority doing so for the benefit of the tourists. People here actually wear what appears to me as “costumes”, consisting of big puffy skirts and dresses, waistcoats, colourful wraps, cute little shoes and with funny little hats to boot: Like they just stepped out of a South American version of a cuckoo clock. The people have so much character in their faces and can probably tell a heart-breaking story or 500, but they also have an inviting warmth that enchants you and leaves you wanting to discover more. That afternoon we were heading to El Alto, almost another 100m / 300 ft higher, to visit a joint SC and local Mayor’s office food distribution to the local community. Basically a community was being paid food for work, but work that benefits themselves and their communities. We (SC) form community groups and appoint leaders to manage and co-ordinate the projects. These projects may range from building and paving the roads in their areas to agricultural activities for food security to planting trees. The local administration provides the materials to work and we provide the incentive. We arrive at the community centre (a big warehouse of sorts) after navigating our way through the maze of streets that form the recently established and sprawling metropolis (can you polish a turd?) of El Alto. Again, costumes everywhere. And covers or wraps forming bags over the shoulder. This whole community is out in force waiting to receive the payment of food (flour, wheat, soy, beans, oil) for the road they had built in their community. We enter, are greeted like dignitaries, which is a little embarrassing, and after some speeches thanking the local community and thanking SC and our director, we speak to the monitors, witness the food distribution and finally, are treated to a feast as heads of the table. It is customary for everyone to bring something to the table, where all the food is dumped, and everyone shares, taking a bit of everything. The food was great. Although I did find it a little ironic that we were distributing food yet here they were bringing a feast and a half for all to share. Menu varied from beans, chicken, beef, various forms of potatoes and papa derivatives, salads, sauces etc. Utensils were absent from the affair; las manos were abundant. Aside from the surprising fact that I didn’t suffer a dodgy stomach after this, other highlights were the reception and the girl(s) following me around looking at my eyes. Never had they seen eyes like mine. What can I say? I was flattered…. Well, that was until I looked into the mirror later and realized that my eyes were yellow. I am assuming it is the altitude. I am blaming everything on that these days.
