We grabbed some empanadas from a street vendor and decided to aim for a lookout we'd heard about for sunset. In the meantime, we headed for the witch's market, which would have been nearly identical to every other tourist market in Peru and Bolivia, were it not got the petrified llama fetuses for sale at ever stall. (Picture available at a later time.)
Having poked our head's into a number of shops and churches and whiled away more time than we realized, we headed for the lookout in earnest, James leading the way. (That's him in front of a great street mural, consulting his map for the umpteenth time that day.)
Unfortunately, when we arrived at the lookout, it was inexplicably closed. We decide to head to a bar, but on the way, we crossed a large nativity fair consisting mostly of rows upon rows of stalls all selling the same tinsel and kitschy manger scenes.
We finally got to the bar and met up with Alex and Louise, James's friends, with whom he would be going to the jungle in two day's time. Over the course of two or three hours, we all got a bit giddy, and James decided to display the awesome power of his zip-trousers.
Realizing that the three of us hadn't eaten anything but breakfast and empanadas, James, Julia, and I set off on a search for late night sustenance, only to discover that La Paz apparently could offer none. So we returned to the Loki bar and ate the only food available to us: Pringles and Snickers. By the time we arrived, the party was in full swing, and we were swept up in it. The night amounted to two or three hours of hanging at the bar, followed by late night dancing at a nearby club, where I was apparently the craziest and most active person on the floor. Quick word of advice: before going out to dance, and therefore, sweat like mad, all night, buy extra water so that you don't find yourself asking the security guard at your accommodation if it's possible to buy water at 5am in South America. Because it's not.
The next day involved a hunt for a new daypack for James's jungle trek and making our plans for Christmas, and little else. James left early in the evening to stay at Alex and Louise's hotel so that they could all get a taxi to the airport together in the morning, and I switched to a dorm room within Loki. Julia and I both passed out early, realizing that neither of us had gotten more than 6 hours of sleep a night for two weeks.
The next day, Julia and I had breakfast and walked to the bus station to buy my ticket to Sucre for Sunday night. Good lord, the difference between walking around with a man and walking around with a woman in South America! Whereas when I was with James, I would receive some looks and maybe a stray comment or two, mostly just about being so pale, Julia and I were howled at continually wherever we went, the combination of blond and redhead seeming particularly potent.
After another wander through the witches' market where I was yet again unable to find an alpaca sweater that I would actually wear at home, we randomly picked a spot for lunch and were rewarded not only with the best meal I had in La Paz but with a reunion with my friend Martin from Colca Canyon. Afterward, we bought our tickets to mountain bike down Death Road, reputedly the most dangerous road in the world and La Paz's biggest tourist attraction. Finally, we headed back to Loki, met up with Julia's Australian roommate Peter, and hopped a taxi to Killi Killi, another lookout point over La Paz.
This was when I started to freak out. Suddenly it occurred to me that biking down the world's most dangerous bike when I'd only been on a bike once in 20 years miiiiight be a bad idea. This idea had actually come to me previously, but since I had never researched Bolivia, never having planned on coming, I was easily caught up in everyone else's enthusiasm and insistence that I MUST do it. Poor Julia. She had only just met me three days previous, and now she had to deal with one of my OCD freak-outs. To her credit she handled it well, simply saying, "Let's just get out there tomorrow and see how you feel. If you don't want to do it then, you can always ride in the van." I acquiesced.
But fate, it would seem, has a wicked sense of humor. I awoke the next day feeling poorly, but unsure of what ailed me. I told Julia of this, and she offered the same calm and reasonable advice. I agreed to go, but nearly as soon as we were in the jeep, I started to feel worse. Julia and I were unable to account for the source of the problem, as we had eaten at all the same places the previous day, and in some had the same meal. Regardless, by the time we arrived at the starting point, 45 minutes outside of La Paz, my stomach had turned on me completely. And of course there were no bathrooms. I had to run up a hill and away from the tour groups to be violently sick. Upon returning to the group, I was uncontrollably sick again. While everyone else pulled on their biking gear, I huddled in the back of the jeep, clutching my stomach. The driver and I debated what to do, but his only suggestions were to stay in the jeep the whole day or try my luck with flagging a random cab. Considering that I could see none of the latter, I stayed in the jeep as we followed the tour group, demanding periodically that we stop so that I could be ill. So much fun.
Fortunately, at the first major rest stop for the group, the driver was able to flag down a Bolivian family headed back to La Paz, and they were willing to take me with them. Although it was one of the longest rides of my life, seeing as how I was loathe to ask them to stop when I required it, I can't tell you how grateful I am to this lovely family, who not only returned me safely to my hostel, but who also patiently chatted with me in Spanish in order to distract me from my illness.
I continually relied upon the kindness of strangers that day, receiving a bag of plain oats from my sweet Australian roommates, Jane and Daniel, when I was too weak to get to the bar for lunch. Later, my other pair of Australians roomies also returned from the Death Road, with Michaela suffering from the same symptoms as me. It turns out that she had also eaten the chicken caprese sandwich at the bar the previous night, while Julia had eaten another dish. Mystery solved!
After spending the entire afternoon in bed reading almost an entire book and watching "Thor" on my Ipad, I felt a bit better and was able to join Julia downstairs for a while once she returned. I was even almost convinced to go out. Almost. Instead, I spent the night in close proximity to a restroom, watching "Super 8" on Daniel's computer. Again, the kindness of strangers.
The next morning, I awoke a new person. I said my goodbyes to Jane and Daniel, who pityingly dubbed me the coolest roommate they had ever had, despite the fact that almost their entire exposure to me involved me being sic in bed, and I thanked them for helping to take care of me. Then Julia and I had breakfast and hung out in the Loki atrium.
I checked out of Loki, put my things in storage, and joined Julia, Peter, English David, and some 30-odd other folks from our hostel on a half-hour's journey to the most bizarre spectacle I have ever witnessed: Cholitas wrestling.
Although just as staged and theatrical as other forms of wrestling, Cholitas wrestling has one significant gimmick: the usual male wrestlers, their faces covered by masks like in the Mexican rings, go up against traditionally-dressed Bolivian women. Seriously.
The women first parade out in full regalia.
Then they remove their shawls and bowler hats and jump into the ring in earnest. Although the drawn-out contests are obviously fake, featuring near-defeats followed by dramatic come-backs, it is impossible not to admire the athleticism of both the male and female participants who flip and toss one another around the ring and take flying leaps from the ropes.
And the locals love it! While the seats right around the ring are full of tourists, the majority of the modest arena is full of Bolivian families, cheering for their favorite champions and throwing popcorn at those they oppose.
Anyway, this was my last outing in La Paz. I had to leave the show early in order to catch my bus. But I won't be forgetting it anytime soon!
- 'Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Location:Loayza,La Paz,Bolivia
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