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There’s something in the air…

May 7th, 2006

We got into San Pedro de Atacama around lunchtime.  The French couple I was with was insistent on arguing with the tour agency about a lunch they were promised for that day.  I just stood outside, basking in the warm sun…oh it was so good to be warm again.  We were still at altitude (2000-some meters, 6000-some feet), but it was sunny and warm.  Just a few hours before I had been freezing…now I was gladly stripping off all my clothes.  After a long, fruitless argument, we left to find a hotel.  We were all freaking out about the prices, in shock coming from cheap Bolivia.  The best we could find was $12, which was about 3 times more than what I had consistently paid in Bolivia.  I grabbed a lunch (at a whopping $10, compared to $2-3 in Bolivia, sometimes less than $1) and headed on a tour to see the sunset in the Valle de la Luna (Moon Valley).

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Flamingos are cool

April 18th, 2006

The next day I was finally off on my final tour of Bolivia – the Uyuni salt flats and the southwestern part of Bolivia.  We set off the first day –  of us – to the salt flats.  We first stopped in a little town called Colchani on the way where we went to a salt museum (where everything was made of salt).  The town looked like a ghost town…I guess everyone who lives there mostly just processes salt but have another house in Uyuni (which is not all that of an attractive town).  The highlight of the salt museum was a little baby llama they had there that was so cute and soft – I couldn’t stop touching him.  In retaliation, he couldn’t stop eating my hair.

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How many Bolivians does it take to fix a bus?

April 18th, 2006

Rather obligatory at this point, I finally brought myself to shower after the mine tour.  Afterall, it was now a balmy 57 degrees in my room.  I spent the rest of the day blowing dust out of my nose and coughing up black loogies.  For dinner, I tried llama, which was pretty good.  I managed to stay up a little later than my 7:00 the previous night as well, though not much.  I have learned that turning the lights on in the room actually heats things up by a few degrees, which make all the difference in the world. Continue reading this entry »

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“The mines are not for women”

April 17th, 2006

I arrived in Potosí at 7am, a little late, which I welcomed since it would give things a chance to warm up a bit.  My taxi driver gave me a nice tour of the city on the way to the hotel.  It’s a cute city planted in the middle of barren mountains.  Potosí is a colonial town existing purely due to the presence of the Cerro Rico, or Rich Hill that was discovered in the 16th century to contain large amounts of silver.  Back then, it was one of the largest and richest towns in the Americas.  Obviously, this is not true today; the town still only exists due to the mines, but unfortunately there is hardly anything left.  The reason I came to Potosí was to take a tour to the mines, where you enter not in a little touristy area, but right down where they’re working.

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Selling wafers to Bolivians on the street

April 16th, 2006

The next afternoon while wandering around one of the squares, I fell into some entertainment.  I saw a large crowd gathered in a circle and went to check out what was going on.  In the middle of the circle were two men (one who was putting on a dress), and a younger boy, about 18.  Must be some sort of comedy act, I thought to myself.  I stood and watched for all of about 2 minutes when the man in the dress said hello to me.  Hola, I replied back.  “Where are you from?”  Chicago.  “Ah, Americana.”  Sí, sí, I said outloud, thinking to myself, please stop talking to me and just continue on with your act.  Everyone was looking at me now.  An old man next to me started to ask me questions while the man in the dress continued.  The man in the dress told me to step forward (presumably so I could see the act better).  I stepped forward two or three steps.  More, he said, and this continued on.  Soon enough, I was in the middle of the circle, part of the act. Continue reading this entry »

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A touch of history…and a splash of mustard

April 12th, 2006

After a few days laying in bed my fever finally broke (with a few recurrances of relatively low-grade temps of 100), so I headed out to eat some proper food.  I had been invited to a restaurant on the corner by the owner (one of those who kept talking as I kept repeating that I was very sick and wanted to return to my bed).  I planned to get a soup and some juice.  I ended up with some huge bowl of soup with porkchops piled high and some strange black veggies that were very bitter.  To drink, well, no juice…they suggested a fruit carbonated drink.  Not being a fan, I opted for the other suggestion which tasted and looked like a sweet tea except for the fact that it had something resembling testicles laying at the bottom.  I had seen it on the streets and was interested to try it, though I left the testes be. Continue reading this entry »

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Down for the count in Oruro

April 9th, 2006

Of course I couldn’t sleep the whole night without waking up, but this time I woke up with an overextended belly, my bladder so full I was cramped.  Here’s the dilemma…it’s 3:30 in the morning and I have to pee.  Not only is it a little weird walking around someone’s house in the middle of the night (though this house was just rooms, all opening into a courtyard), but it’s even stranger when you have to leave the house to go out to the yard to pee.  I laid there for a while contemplating my options…lay here in extreme pain or unlock the door and go outside and relieve myself.  The pain was substantial, my bladder making the decision for me.

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Please pass the guinea pig

March 31st, 2006

At about 6:30 in the morning I woke up to the radio being played fairly loudly, right outside my room…oh man.  Slept for a while longer and finally got up around 8 or 9.  Elvis gave me some bread and cinnamon tea, which I thought was a fine breakfast.  Then out came a huge bowl of soup, full with potatoes, pasta and veggies…again, I could not finish it all.  After breakfast we left to go across the street to visit Mamita.  “We’re going to stay awhile today.  Mom’s going to make guinea pig for you.”  Oh…how nice.

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Tumayqusun

March 30th, 2006

The whole family, Mamita and Papito included, gathered and started walking down the road toward the main town of Tiraque, where the festival was.  After a short while of walking, two cars pulled up and we all piled in for the ride.  In town, we all met up again and headed into Elvis’s godmother’s house, which was also a hopping chicheria, kind of like a bar, but the only thing on offer to drink is chicha.  We also ate chicharrón, a prepared pork product which was highly touted before heading out to the country.  (In curiosity, I just looked it up, and looks like we were eating pork skin fried in butter…anyway, it was pretty good.) Continue reading this entry »

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Eating corn stalks and drinking chicha – an intro to the Bolivian countryside

March 24th, 2006

I woke up in the middle of the night having to pee, but didn’t want to go outside into the cold, so I laid there a while, thinking about my stolen bankcard…I hadn’t yet called the bank and was sure my thieves had used it to buy all sorts of extravagant things.  I fell back asleep and we woke up a short while later to head out to the country, but not without me calling in my stolen bankcard first.  Bank One, who is now Chase assured me that no one had used my card, which was a relief, but they offered no assistance in getting a card to me quickly.  Any way you can send it to Bolivia?  “No, we can only send it within the US.”  Any way you could expedite the service since now it has to go through two mailing processes before it gets to me…you know, since I’m in Bolivia?  “Well, it takes 2 days to make the card, and then it goes out regular mail.”  And no way to expedite this?  “No.”  Thanks, Bank One/Chase, your customer service is superb.  “Don’t mention it.”

Enough about that, though…I quickly forgot about this slight inconvenience during the next few days, which were probably my most memorable experience on this trip so far, 6 months in.  I thank Elvis a million times over for taking me out here…

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