Settling into a regular routine home life in Rosario has been somewhat tougher than I thought. Maybe, after months of traveling, and not having an actual address, it may take me a while to transition. Or maybe, I just got unbelievably accostumed to the way things were and now, to actually say that I plan on being in one spot for a while, is just too much....I did toy with the idea last night of giving up the whole Rosario life and picking up today and heading to Buenos Aires to keep on traveling. And of course, I am hoping that since I didn't leave there will be some sort of positive outcome to me staying here - some kid from the neighborhood today, did try to jack me and all my belongings. So it must be written......somewhere.
Either way, Tamara did inform me that my blogs were becoming too much like a travellogue of sorts and that she wanted more dirt - so i figured I would try that out. Here's some dirt. Not much but enough to maybe keep you interested.
Finding a waitressing job here has been unbelievably tasking, which of course means that I have tried a few times and handed out my resume to various places and have not heard back once. So I am somewhat discouraged. I'm guessing this might come from the fact that previously in my life, all my jobs have been handed to me and I never had to look that hard for them. So I am unconsciously just waiting for the perfect thing to fall in my lap.
Other than the pitiful job trade, I have been writing. A novel - well, probably not. But I have been writing, getting myself into the supposed practice of writing. So I am trying to be positive about that aspect. And the dirt, well, there is none. I hate to brake it to you - Tamara, I just used my phrase. I am waiting on the whole my life is just naturally supposed to come together part - the friends, the routine, the life. As of now, the most exciting thing that happened to me was today when this 17 year old kid on a bike tried to steal my stuff and ended up grabbing and breaking all my necklaces and following me home. No worries, I yelled at him enough for trying and ended up with all my belongings- good sign! I now have to fix all my necklaces, but not so bad. Just some kid who was bored in my neighborhood and caught me at one of the deserted parts. It happens.
Everything else, I am slowly giving up to time. The job should figure itself out somehow and if it doesn't - well, I have no plan B. So I guess the whole writing thing should take up most of my time for now. Luckily I have no motivation for it and am distracting myself at a pool hall. So no dirt and some broken necklaces. It's an okay start. I did much worse in Sevilla, Spain - I showed up sick with a cold and crying to go home. At least here i have coffee in the mornings and cable. My roomate, Manu, isn't so bad either - especialy since I am not paying to live here. We seem to get along for the most part and he's pretty clean so far. So life is comfortable. Just a bit slow with sweltering heat.
Cross your fingers and hopefully I will have a job one day and actually start writing that novel I have been talking about for years. Hope you're all well. Miss you.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
I think I have arrived.
So we took a 12 hour bus ride to get to Villazon, where we would cross the border into Argentina. We arrived into Villazon, in the south of Bolivia, around 8:30 am.
What ensued ended up being the longest day of my life---
So we got off the bus and somehow ended up following a little Bolivian man into a bus agency. He wanted to get us on a bus that left from the bus terminal in the Argentinian side at 11:30. So we bought tickets after about an hour of meandering to take out money and make sure we had seats on the bus. The bus ride would be about 20 hours long to get to Rosario, so I wanted to make sure the bus had reclining seats and that we definitely has seats on the bus -sometimes they give you tickets when there aren't seats.
Then the little man took us to get our passports stamped on the Bolivian side and said that that was as far as he took us. Afterwards, we headed to the insanely long line being formed to cross the border. Unfortunately, on this opportune day, there was only one official working at the immigrations office to cross into Argentina. We stood in that freaking line for 6 hours. Well, mainly I waited.
So as we waited in the line, I went and chatted with an officer trying to find out whether or not I had to pay an entrance fee to get into Argentina. Ryan had told me a few months back, that as of January 1st, US citizens had to pay a fee of $100 USD in order to get a traveler's visa. But after some lovely chatting, I discovered that luckily while the law had been passed, there was no one currently at the office to recieve and officialize the payment. So I was somewhat lucky in that respect. While waiting, I also went the bathroom in some weird market, bought water and cigarettes and chatted with a couple in front of us, who later ended up playing the guitar and singing for a bit. I also ate a sandwich, paced, and read.
Eventually, Manu went to the office where we bought our bus tickets, FlechaBus, to change them to a later time, so we would not have to deal with it, once we crossed. While he was there, some soldiers came by asking for the passports and DNI's (a type of identification card from Argentina) of Argentinians, so they could process those first and help move along the line. By then it was around 1:30 and by the time Manu came back, all the Argentinians in the line were placed outside of the line to recieve their identifications and cross into their country. So he crossed. I waited about 2 hours more and eventually as the line moved at a snail's pace, I made it to the front of the line.
Of course, the guy at the desk, strangely enough, while looking at my US passport, asked me if I was Argentinian. I told him, No, but he was convinced since I spoke Spanish so well. I am gloating there, if you didn't notice. He then stamped my passport and let me go. Another official checked my small backpack without ever looking into my big pack - weird. And I finally made it into Argentina!
So we got some food and beer and headed onto our bus. It left at 4:00 pm - and it was definitely more than a 20 hour bus ride. I think it was about 24 hours in total. But it stopped a bunch of times so everyone could eat and go to the bathroom. There was also a snack at night, a toilet on the bus, some bad movies, and a brief change of buses at 11 at night.
And after all of it, I made it into Rosario.
Rosario - the second largest city in Argentina, after Buenos Aires. And it is only about 4 hours from Buenos...I have been here for about two weeks and it has some type of familiarity to Sevilla. It is definitely a city but at the same time, it is small enough to feel quaint. (I also live in the suburbs here, which is probably why it resembles Sevilla so much to me - I lived in Tomares and would have to take the bus to get into Sevilla). But for the most part, I am getting pretty comfortable here. I have internet whenever I want, the town is on a river, the people are lovely - in all the ways one can be, my living situation is good (Manu has a dog), and little by little I am getting acclimated. I am working on getting a job here - I am thinking waittress but well see how that works out. And I've been writing and running. My routine is coming together. So it looks like I will be here for a substantial amount of time....so if anyone is interested in visiting me, you should definitely come! You will love Argentina. I love Argentina, even though I have only seen Rosario.But I am pretty settled, so think about it....
What ensued ended up being the longest day of my life---
So we got off the bus and somehow ended up following a little Bolivian man into a bus agency. He wanted to get us on a bus that left from the bus terminal in the Argentinian side at 11:30. So we bought tickets after about an hour of meandering to take out money and make sure we had seats on the bus. The bus ride would be about 20 hours long to get to Rosario, so I wanted to make sure the bus had reclining seats and that we definitely has seats on the bus -sometimes they give you tickets when there aren't seats.
Then the little man took us to get our passports stamped on the Bolivian side and said that that was as far as he took us. Afterwards, we headed to the insanely long line being formed to cross the border. Unfortunately, on this opportune day, there was only one official working at the immigrations office to cross into Argentina. We stood in that freaking line for 6 hours. Well, mainly I waited.
So as we waited in the line, I went and chatted with an officer trying to find out whether or not I had to pay an entrance fee to get into Argentina. Ryan had told me a few months back, that as of January 1st, US citizens had to pay a fee of $100 USD in order to get a traveler's visa. But after some lovely chatting, I discovered that luckily while the law had been passed, there was no one currently at the office to recieve and officialize the payment. So I was somewhat lucky in that respect. While waiting, I also went the bathroom in some weird market, bought water and cigarettes and chatted with a couple in front of us, who later ended up playing the guitar and singing for a bit. I also ate a sandwich, paced, and read.
Eventually, Manu went to the office where we bought our bus tickets, FlechaBus, to change them to a later time, so we would not have to deal with it, once we crossed. While he was there, some soldiers came by asking for the passports and DNI's (a type of identification card from Argentina) of Argentinians, so they could process those first and help move along the line. By then it was around 1:30 and by the time Manu came back, all the Argentinians in the line were placed outside of the line to recieve their identifications and cross into their country. So he crossed. I waited about 2 hours more and eventually as the line moved at a snail's pace, I made it to the front of the line.
Of course, the guy at the desk, strangely enough, while looking at my US passport, asked me if I was Argentinian. I told him, No, but he was convinced since I spoke Spanish so well. I am gloating there, if you didn't notice. He then stamped my passport and let me go. Another official checked my small backpack without ever looking into my big pack - weird. And I finally made it into Argentina!
So we got some food and beer and headed onto our bus. It left at 4:00 pm - and it was definitely more than a 20 hour bus ride. I think it was about 24 hours in total. But it stopped a bunch of times so everyone could eat and go to the bathroom. There was also a snack at night, a toilet on the bus, some bad movies, and a brief change of buses at 11 at night.
And after all of it, I made it into Rosario.
Rosario - the second largest city in Argentina, after Buenos Aires. And it is only about 4 hours from Buenos...I have been here for about two weeks and it has some type of familiarity to Sevilla. It is definitely a city but at the same time, it is small enough to feel quaint. (I also live in the suburbs here, which is probably why it resembles Sevilla so much to me - I lived in Tomares and would have to take the bus to get into Sevilla). But for the most part, I am getting pretty comfortable here. I have internet whenever I want, the town is on a river, the people are lovely - in all the ways one can be, my living situation is good (Manu has a dog), and little by little I am getting acclimated. I am working on getting a job here - I am thinking waittress but well see how that works out. And I've been writing and running. My routine is coming together. So it looks like I will be here for a substantial amount of time....so if anyone is interested in visiting me, you should definitely come! You will love Argentina. I love Argentina, even though I have only seen Rosario.But I am pretty settled, so think about it....
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Sucre and Salar
The following morning, we headed to Sucre - the other capital of Bolivia. Apparently, Bolivia has a political capital and a judicial capital. La Paz is the governmental one and Sucre, the judicial one. Sucre, a very colonial and white washed city was mostly dead due to the referendum. Just like Ecuador, when there is an election, the entire country is dry of liqour and it is mandatory to vote. So there wasn't much to do other than wait around for the election to pass. Unfortunately, the city of Sucre is a bit more conservative than its partner La Paz and so the manifests Janury 25th were all for NO. But we headed to the main plaza anyway and watched the mayor of the region, an indigenous woman, speak on behalf of all the people for NO.
We ate a good dinner afterwards and headed back to the hostel. The band was going to separate, since Lucho and Andres wanted to head back to Argentina to get back to work, and Manu and I wanted to see Salar de Uyuni before we left Bolivia.
In the aftermath of Sucre, Manu and I seemed to run across an endless amount of bad luck - travelling wise, that is. So, if you're not looking at a map of Bolivia, which I am sure you are not, it is a bit difficult to explain. But here goes...
Travelling Hell: So we had gone north from Potosi to get to Sucre, so we obviously had to retrace our steps. We left on a bus, first thing at 7 to get to Uyuni at around 7 at night, but when you're in Bolivia, you can never know for sure. We went from Sucre, down south three hours to Potosi, where we stopped for two hours to eat and change buses. Luckily, we knew where to go to get a good breakfast and pass the time, since we had already been there. And eventually after a torturous 12 hours, it was during the day, we got to Uyuni.
In Uyuni, the plan was to immediately, get a hostel, get a tour agency to take us for a one day trip to Salar and also to get some type of transport - either bus or train, to Villazon that night. The hostel, we figured out quickly and after a bit of haggling, we also got a secure and cheap tour agency to take us from 10:30 am until about 6pm to Salar. And of course, getting to Villazon, where we would cross the border into Argentina, was a bit more laborious.
There was a train that leaves at 10:30 pm on tuesday night - much more comfortable, cheaper, and of course, only a mere 9 hours, which would have been perfect to take. Unfortunately, though, that night the office was already closed. So they informed us that to get a ticket the following morning, we should wake up at 6:30 to get in line until the ticket office opened at 9 am, still leaving us with time to get breakfast before our tour to Salar.
So we hung around the plaza, got some food from the lovely Comedor. God, I wish you could detect my sarcasm through the blog...if you didn't get it, the Comedor was less than lovely. And we headed to bed in our 'lovely' hostel. We got up at 6:30 and headed to the line at the train station, which was already quite full when we got there. Eventually after passing the hours reading and drinking some fresh juice, the office finally opened.
And of course, there were no tickets, and even if there were, there was about 20 or more in front of us. Luckily, I was with an Argentinian, since they LOVE to band together, because in about the span of two seconds...25 Argentinians had gotten together to rent a bus to leave at 9:30 pm to get to Villazon the next morning. So we bought tickets, got a quick coffee and headed to our tour agency.
Salar. The world´s largest salt flat sitting at the altitude of 3653 meters and covers 12,000 sq km. It was once the Lake Minchin and when it dried up, it became Salar de Uyuni. And if you saw the article in the New York Times yesterday, under Salar is the half the world's Lithium reserve - which of course, Evo is unrelenting to give up to his neighbors of the North. In general, it was quite a site and definitely worth all the hell that came before and after it. there is a salt hotel, rooms running for $50 US a night, - the entire hotel is made of salt..walls, tables, chairs, floor, ceiling...everything. the tour stopped also at a salt museum, and a lovely midday stop in la Isla de los Pescadores, which is an island in the middle of the salt flats with giant cactus all over and a great view of the flats. Incredible - the only word coming to me to explain it. A desert of salt where anyone could disappear by walking a few meters away from the group.
Eventually the tour ended and we headed back to Uyuni to get some food before the 12 hour bus ride to Villazon.
Oh I think somewhere in the midst of this, I forgot to mention that after a few days on antibiotics and losing a few extra kilos, I finally got better and got rid of the Bolivian bug that was eating me alive for about 10 days. And thank god, it left my system, I don't think I would have lasted through border crossing and the LOOONG trek into Argentina if I was still sick....
Evo Morales and the Inauguration of Obama
The first few days in La Paz, were somewhat rough for me. The weather was also pretty shitty with a lot of rainy days but that nothing seemed to stunt the boys. There was a day to see the Pre-Inca ruins of Tiahuanaco, which is Bolivia's most significant archeaological site with megaliths - a ruined pyramid and a ritual platform. I barely made it through the day however, and ended up sleeping on a couch in a restaurant off the site, while the boys meandered through the two museums and the sites. I desperately wanted to do the trek by bicycle down the 'World's Most Dangerous Road' to Coroico, but of course, no one would do it with me and most importantly my stomach also seemed to disagree with the idea. So instead we did a walking tour around the city center and took it easy.
(I did manage of course, on January 20th to head into an internet cafe and watch the inauguration of our 44th President, Barak Obama via CNN.com. And of course, I cried. I will say though, it was hard to find patriotism amidst the capital of Bolivia when it is in the middle of an election and three Argentinians who want nothing to do with the US. Luckily, though, Obama beamed beautifully in the largest crowd ever drawn in the Mall. And his speech somehow seemed to give me a bit of confidence, that change, was not just merely a slogan.)
On Thursday, after about 5 days or so, also the day we had planned to leave at night and head for Potosi, we spent the morning in the largest market I have ever seen. La Paz, in general is a city consisting only of various markets. There are no supermarkets, which I discovered in my quest for gatorade and definitely no shopping mall or centers. The city is all feria. The largest one, open only Thursdays and Sundays contains everything imagineable to man kind, set up in little tents or store fronts -El Alto. We spent most of Thursday there, looking around, shopping, haggling, and of course eating. It was truly amazing. Bikes, electronics, used clothes, new clothes, shoes, sweaters, sunglasses, sofas, car parts, tools, any type of house appliance, and some empanadas and soups.
After the fair, we headed back down to the city center, because due to the vote of the referendum, to amend the constitution, due to pass on January 25th, Evo Morales was to speak in the main plaza that night. Evo Morales, the first indigenous President to be elected, was supporting the vote for si, a yes to pass the new constitution. Amazingly, the more conservative side, for no, was propagandizing that a vote for no was choosing god. Elige No, Elige Dios. Pretty incredible to see how intertwined religion and politics still were within Bolivia. The new constitution was, in a bland and horrible generalization, to put more power in the hands of the people as a whole over their water and natural resources. It also was to unite the people autonomously and create a better political system - supposedly an unbiased system without corruption.
The night previous, we watched a town meeting organized by the people for Si. If that sounds a little antiquated, it probably was. But for Bolivian standards, it was unbelievably progressive and modern and to me, beautifully astonishing.
The Evo protest was colorfully interesting, which drew quite a large crowd. There were flags all over the place, marching, singing, coca leaves being thrown all over the place, a burning of some sort of political outfit. It all seemed pretty festive, but unfortunately we had to duck out there and head to the bus station to make our bus. So we never actually got to see Evo speak. Heard it was incredible, though definitely not the same.
So we took a long night bus ride to Potosi, the world's highest city at 4060 meters. Its backdrop, the Cerro Rico, an enormous mountain looming over the city is the city's main forum for income. It currently has over 165 mines, since as early as 1545, when they found ore deposits within the mountain, the mountain proved to be lucratively full of silver and wealth. We took a tour of the mines, which was interesting and of course claustraphobic and terrifying. The miners spend usually about three days out of the week, for full days inside mining. They are usually alone, and can't eat due to the horrible smell of arsenic. So they drink water and chew on coca leaves. It seemed drastically lonely inside and definitely risky, since there are avalanches quite often. Our guide, Roperto, told a story about when he was a miner and got stuck in one of the mines for three days. After that, he gave up the job and headed into the tourist industry - the only other trade in the city. While there, we also toured La Casa de Monedas to see how the first coins were crusted and minted.
(I did manage of course, on January 20th to head into an internet cafe and watch the inauguration of our 44th President, Barak Obama via CNN.com. And of course, I cried. I will say though, it was hard to find patriotism amidst the capital of Bolivia when it is in the middle of an election and three Argentinians who want nothing to do with the US. Luckily, though, Obama beamed beautifully in the largest crowd ever drawn in the Mall. And his speech somehow seemed to give me a bit of confidence, that change, was not just merely a slogan.)
On Thursday, after about 5 days or so, also the day we had planned to leave at night and head for Potosi, we spent the morning in the largest market I have ever seen. La Paz, in general is a city consisting only of various markets. There are no supermarkets, which I discovered in my quest for gatorade and definitely no shopping mall or centers. The city is all feria. The largest one, open only Thursdays and Sundays contains everything imagineable to man kind, set up in little tents or store fronts -El Alto. We spent most of Thursday there, looking around, shopping, haggling, and of course eating. It was truly amazing. Bikes, electronics, used clothes, new clothes, shoes, sweaters, sunglasses, sofas, car parts, tools, any type of house appliance, and some empanadas and soups.
After the fair, we headed back down to the city center, because due to the vote of the referendum, to amend the constitution, due to pass on January 25th, Evo Morales was to speak in the main plaza that night. Evo Morales, the first indigenous President to be elected, was supporting the vote for si, a yes to pass the new constitution. Amazingly, the more conservative side, for no, was propagandizing that a vote for no was choosing god. Elige No, Elige Dios. Pretty incredible to see how intertwined religion and politics still were within Bolivia. The new constitution was, in a bland and horrible generalization, to put more power in the hands of the people as a whole over their water and natural resources. It also was to unite the people autonomously and create a better political system - supposedly an unbiased system without corruption.
The night previous, we watched a town meeting organized by the people for Si. If that sounds a little antiquated, it probably was. But for Bolivian standards, it was unbelievably progressive and modern and to me, beautifully astonishing.
The Evo protest was colorfully interesting, which drew quite a large crowd. There were flags all over the place, marching, singing, coca leaves being thrown all over the place, a burning of some sort of political outfit. It all seemed pretty festive, but unfortunately we had to duck out there and head to the bus station to make our bus. So we never actually got to see Evo speak. Heard it was incredible, though definitely not the same.
So we took a long night bus ride to Potosi, the world's highest city at 4060 meters. Its backdrop, the Cerro Rico, an enormous mountain looming over the city is the city's main forum for income. It currently has over 165 mines, since as early as 1545, when they found ore deposits within the mountain, the mountain proved to be lucratively full of silver and wealth. We took a tour of the mines, which was interesting and of course claustraphobic and terrifying. The miners spend usually about three days out of the week, for full days inside mining. They are usually alone, and can't eat due to the horrible smell of arsenic. So they drink water and chew on coca leaves. It seemed drastically lonely inside and definitely risky, since there are avalanches quite often. Our guide, Roperto, told a story about when he was a miner and got stuck in one of the mines for three days. After that, he gave up the job and headed into the tourist industry - the only other trade in the city. While there, we also toured La Casa de Monedas to see how the first coins were crusted and minted.
The Last Resort
Not sure if you all remember, but about a year and a half ago, I did some research work for a documentary film by Dante Liberatore. Well, thanks to Earl Adams, I have finally now been informed that the movie is editted and finished and played last night at the Friar's club in NYC.
this is the link for the movie site and you can watch the trailer:
http://www.thelastresortfilm.com
I´ll let you all know when I know more about it.
this is the link for the movie site and you can watch the trailer:
http://www.thelastresortfilm.com
I´ll let you all know when I know more about it.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Hecha Mierda contd.
Somehow we got from immigrations to Copacabana - a mostly tourist hub for backpackers heading to the islands on Lake Titicaca. A bunch of Argentinians had wrangled a boat for about 20 people to head to the northern side of La Isla del Sol. Most tourists head for a day trip or a weekend-long stay at the Southern end of the island. They have a museum and restaurants and three hour guided walking tours to get to the northern side which has beaches.
We opted to stay in the north. We wanted beach. So after a lengthy three hour boat ride, where I slept most of the way...we arrived and found a hostal: Inca Uti, the only place on the island with hot water. After our border crossing experience, we were desperate for a hot shower. Especially since I was sick....We settled in to our hostal, as the other Argentinians rented a tent and decided to camp out for the weekend. Locos. The temperature verges on freezing at night, even though the days are quite temperate and lovely.
When the sun settled we headed to get a good meal: a hot Quinoa soup and the island´s main and only protein- fresh trout from Lake Titicaca. Pretty tasty. The next day, Saturday, we woke and headed to the beach to relax in the sun. Unfortunately, I woke with some sort of stomach bug ----and so began my real experience in Bolivia. Hecha Mierda.
Luckily we were taking it easy on the island, and since I was still healing from the flu, I wasn´t eating that much - no apetite. That night, we tried some Singani, some type of Bolivian alcohol and hung with the Argentinians at the bonfire they had made at the beach. (I spent the night, manning the fire. Thanks dad for teaching me the very usefull knowledge of keeping a fire; where the logs go, how to keep the circulation of the air without blowing out the fire, and all without burning your fingers. If it wasn´t for my vast knowledge of fire skills, we might have frozen that night.) The next morning we woke early to breakfast and to head back on the three hour boat ride, back to civilization.
We got into Copacabana early afternoon, and of course, in my state - still sick from everything, I managed as well to trip on the dock as I headed off the boat with my backpack...Leaving some pretty nasty bruises on both my knees... See what I mean about my forgotten good luck??
We took a bus from Copacabana to La Paz, short ride with a bunch of beautiful views of Lake Titicaca and additionally a mid journey interlude where you must disembark from your bus, take a ferry across a river, separate from all autos and buses and wait on the other side for your transport, hopefully choosing the right one to get back on....
Once in La Paz, we headed to Hostal Jimenez, where I got a room all to myself and the 4 boys all dormed together below... I hadn´t had a room to myself for months. I can´t exactly explain the novelty of solitude while travelling, but after five months abroad and very little privacy, a mere room with a bed all to myself was, well, TRIUNFO! Plus, dont forget, I was sick with some type of parasite, so privacy was definitely convenient....
We opted to stay in the north. We wanted beach. So after a lengthy three hour boat ride, where I slept most of the way...we arrived and found a hostal: Inca Uti, the only place on the island with hot water. After our border crossing experience, we were desperate for a hot shower. Especially since I was sick....We settled in to our hostal, as the other Argentinians rented a tent and decided to camp out for the weekend. Locos. The temperature verges on freezing at night, even though the days are quite temperate and lovely.
When the sun settled we headed to get a good meal: a hot Quinoa soup and the island´s main and only protein- fresh trout from Lake Titicaca. Pretty tasty. The next day, Saturday, we woke and headed to the beach to relax in the sun. Unfortunately, I woke with some sort of stomach bug ----and so began my real experience in Bolivia. Hecha Mierda.
Luckily we were taking it easy on the island, and since I was still healing from the flu, I wasn´t eating that much - no apetite. That night, we tried some Singani, some type of Bolivian alcohol and hung with the Argentinians at the bonfire they had made at the beach. (I spent the night, manning the fire. Thanks dad for teaching me the very usefull knowledge of keeping a fire; where the logs go, how to keep the circulation of the air without blowing out the fire, and all without burning your fingers. If it wasn´t for my vast knowledge of fire skills, we might have frozen that night.) The next morning we woke early to breakfast and to head back on the three hour boat ride, back to civilization.
We got into Copacabana early afternoon, and of course, in my state - still sick from everything, I managed as well to trip on the dock as I headed off the boat with my backpack...Leaving some pretty nasty bruises on both my knees... See what I mean about my forgotten good luck??
We took a bus from Copacabana to La Paz, short ride with a bunch of beautiful views of Lake Titicaca and additionally a mid journey interlude where you must disembark from your bus, take a ferry across a river, separate from all autos and buses and wait on the other side for your transport, hopefully choosing the right one to get back on....
Once in La Paz, we headed to Hostal Jimenez, where I got a room all to myself and the 4 boys all dormed together below... I hadn´t had a room to myself for months. I can´t exactly explain the novelty of solitude while travelling, but after five months abroad and very little privacy, a mere room with a bed all to myself was, well, TRIUNFO! Plus, dont forget, I was sick with some type of parasite, so privacy was definitely convenient....
Monday, February 2, 2009
Hecha Mierda
Bolivia. A brief historical interlude: Bolivia, the poorest country in South America, in October of last year, threw out the US embassador and broke relations with US. Afterwards, any US citizen wanting to travel through Bolivia, in order to get a travelling visa, had to pay $134 to enter and deal with the lovely guards at immigration.
Border crossing: from Arequipa, we took a seven hour bus ride at 1am to get to Puno early, the city in Peru on Lake Titicaca. From Puno, we took a two hour bundy (buses or collectivos are main transport but for smaller/less expensive trips there are bundies) to get to Kasani. Arequipa was cold due to the altitude and somehow three of us got stuck with the flu, so keep in mind - I crossed the border in a feverish haze. Caution: dont try unless you have three highly trained Argentinians and one German to take care of you while dealing with Bolivian customs and a fever. Not Recommended.
So we got off the bus and in three separate bicycle riskshaws, we headed to the arc that borders the two countries. Bycicle rickshaws - get the image of Kramer pushing his rickshaw up a hill in your head, then imagen, with your eyes closed, a luminous hill and instead of Kosmo Kramer imagen a small Peruvian trying to get a cart carrying the heavy weight of two persons and all their luggage up that same hill. With the elevation at 4000 meters, the guys driving the bicycles, seemed to have a BIT of trouble getting us to the arc, the boys hopped off to walk alongside the cart. I stayed put - I barely knew where I was.
Eventually the Peruvians led us to a shop to exchange money and buy something for my fever. We said our thanks and paid the men and headed to immigration. We first had to go to immigration on the Peruvian side, which was easy enough. They stamped our passports. Then we crossed through the foreboding colonial arc to Bolivia.
Once in Bolivia, we headed again straight towards immigration - a small office with three desks and two guards. All four boys, in about five minutes had finished their paperwork and waited outside eating some Pringles.
I was ordered to do as follows: Without asking, I pulled out the $140 I had and handed it over to somesort of Bolivian official. Then there were mounds of paperwork to fill out - where i was headed, how long I was to be there, who I was, why I was travelling, etc. Eventually, after about ten to fifteen minutes of papers, then I was to sit down at a desk, hand over/or rather make copies of my passport and of my vaccination card. Then an explanation that my visa was valid for 90 days out of the year for five years, so for the next five years I will be able to travel within Bolivia for 90 days all the following years. Not sure if I´ll actually take them up on that, but its nice to know its there.
Eventually I was done. Well, I did have to go back inside and ask for my change, somehow the Bolivian official had already put away my six dollars of change without notifying me, but luckily I remembered and asked for it.
Afterwards we headed to Copacabana, to take a boat with 16 other Argententians to La Isla del Sol on Lake Titicaca to spend the weekend.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
