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| Wellcome of my blog! |
So, in the time
away from the internet, a lot of life has happened (weird how it works that
way) -- Brace yourself for a long (but entertaining – don’t quit yet!) one
folks!
La
Frontera
What happens
is you buy a bus from wherever in Peru, to wherever else in Bolivia, and when
the bus gets to the border crossing it stops and gives you 20 minutes to go
through all of the customs stations and fill out all of the paperwork. Which is
great and everything if you’re a European and can get through no questions
asked, but not so great if you’re an American and have to wait in line to pay.
Especially when you’re Hannah and are the last person waiting in line to pay.
| And this is how our bus crossed Lake Titicaca... Seems legit. |
It was focus
time. As soon as the man FINALLY determined that I was not trying to jip the
Bolivian government, he gave me my papers and told me to go onto the next
station. I ran over, basically threw my passport at the customs official to be
stamped, grabbed it back out of his hands, and took off running with all 3758
of my necessary papers in hand, sprinting towards the bus. To my surprise (and
to the surprise of many onlookers sitting comfortably on the bus) my subpar
sprinting skills got me to the door just soon enough for the driver to notice
the crazy girl running beside the bus making lots of desperate hand gestures
and he stopped long enough to open the door for me to get in. Bienvenidos a
Bolivia!
La Ciudad
The first
stop on our Southern hemisphere spring break took us to the crazy city of La
Paz, the capitol of Bolivia. As we summited the peaks on the outskirts of the
city and the bus began taking us down the slope into the bowl of La Paz, I was
amazed at how enormous it is. The
landscape is incredible – essentially the city was founded in a circular valley
with 15,000 foot mountains surrounding it on all sides. WAY bigger than Cusco
and not at all what I was expecting, which just added to my astonishment.
We got off
at the bus stop, where we found a very friendly man willing to give us
directions to our hostel. We asked how far it was and if we should take a taxi,
but he said it was “muy cerca” (very close) so we took off walking with our
giant backpacks in tow. A mere 40 minutes later, we had wandered around the
city enough to finally encounter our destination: Wild Rover Hostel, La Paz.
One of the
more noteworthy activities that we did in La Paz (travel agent Hannah highly
recommends it) was the walking tour of the city. We met up with two crazy
Bolivians with an incredible knowledge of the city who led us tourists around
for three hours, providing lots of entertaining anecdotes along the way.
The tour
began outside of one of the craziest social experiments that I’ve ever heard
of: San Pedro prison. This is a place where they throw any kind of criminal,
from tax fraud to murder, and then essentially just let them do their own
thing. They aren’t allowed to come or go, but other than that their freedom is
endless, including being able to bring their families in to live with them. The
guards don’t go in, the prisoners don’t go out, no questions asked.
So basically
they’ve developed their own code of ethics, their own government (including
their own form of capital punishment), and their own economy. They have one to
five star residences, which they can pay for depending on the amount of money
they had before entering prison. The one
star residences are basically just shacks, but the five star residences have
their own personal bedroom, kitchen, and bathroom. Pretty ritzy, if you ask me.
They make money on the inside through starting their own little businesses.
Either they smuggle things in to sell, or they provide a service of some kind,
including (until the guards started to catch wind of it) tourism.
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| Check out those cute, fuzzy llama fetuses! |
Another fun
tidbit that we picked up on during our tour was the Bolivian equivalent of
facebook relationship statuses: the women’s hats. Apparently a few centuries
ago some European hat maker thought it would be a good business decision to
ship thousands of hats across the pond to sell to Bolivian men. Unfortunately,
the hats were way too small for the men to wear. However, being the ingenious
businessman that this guy was, he decided to start marketing to the women
instead. A few hundreds of years later, these women’s felt hats are their
greatest pride and joy.
These hats
can cost up to a few hundred dollars, which is the equivalent of a Bolivian
fortune, but these women keep buying them. They sit perched atop of the women’s
heads, a bit small for them as well, but a fashion statement nonetheless. But
back to the relationship status part. Apparently if they wear their hats
sitting straight on top of their heads, they’re married or taken. However, if
they wear them tilted slightly to the side, it means that they’re single and
looking for a mate. Who needs pheromones when you have old felt hats? Honestly.
After
witnessing the flirtatiously tilted hats at the food market, we continued on to
visit the “witch market.” Here, you can buy anything from love potions, to
voodoo dolls, to… dead llama fetuses! A little something for everyone! It was
here where our guides informed us of the rituals one MUST carry out before
constructing a building unless you want said building to be forever cursed.
There are two types of rituals, depending on the grandness of the building:
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| Love potions for Alex... because he needs them. |
2.
This category is reserved exclusively for
mansions and any other ritzy sort of structure: In order to ensure that this
type of building remains free from harm, you need all of the above mentioned
things except in exchange for a llama fetus, you need to bury a live human
being beneath the foundation. That’s normal, right? So apparently what the
people do who take this seriously do is wander the streets at night until the
find a homeless looking drunk person, give them a drink with some sort of drug
in it (the Bolivian version of roofies) and throw them in the trunk of their
car. They then drive them up to the construction site and toss the body in the
foundation, bury them alive, and cement over the top to conceal the evidence
and seal their fate. Moral of the story: don’t wander around Bolivia at night
while drunk off your ass.
After
learning about all of these quaint Bolivian traditions, we returned to the
hostel to meet up with a few friends who are studying abroad in Chile AND my
good friend Simon who had just come back from a jungle trek! (for those of you
who have read my past blogs, you’ll remember that this is the guy from London
who I survived a tarantula attack with – friends for life, obviously). Erin,
Logan, and Rob all hail from DU as well, so seeing a few familiar faces was a
nice treat.
Blame it
on the Altitude
The next
couple of days were spent exploring La Paz, witnessing one of the most bizarre forms
of wrestling in the entire world (google “cholitas wrestling” if you’re curious
and looking to further procrastinate – it won’t let you down), and trying to
shove coca tea down Erin’s throat to help with her severe altitude sickness. Look
at me, becoming a real Peruvian.
Death
Road
After our
days of rest, we set off to ride mountain bikes down the most dangerous road on
earth. If you don’t believe me, take another procrastination break and google “death
road bus crashes.” We left our hostel bright and early, took a bus up to the
very tippy top of the Andes, and began outfitting ourselves for the descent.
After donning elbow pads, knee pads, and a full face helmet, we were ready to
test our luck.
| One of the views from Death Road |
Biking 40km
down that thing was honestly probably one of the most fun things I’ve done in a
long time. We went under waterfalls and through rivers, all the while flying
down as quickly as our confidence would let us. One awesome thing about the
company that we chose is that our guide didn’t hold back at all. (Mother
advisory: Please continue at the end of the paragraph). He went as fast as he
wanted, and let us go as fast as we wanted, which while maybe possibly being a
wee tad of a bit dangerous, was way too fun to put into words. Rob, Logan and
Alex all managed to more or less keep up with him, and surprisingly I wasn’t
close behind! Every time they stopped I would pull in a few seconds later and Alex
would look at me with an entirely surprised look on his face and give me a high
five. He later told me that he was pretty sure I had grown a pair of balls that
day… not quite sure whether to take that as a compliment or not, but I’ll roll
with it.
At the
beginning of the day we were at such a high elevation that we were surrounded
by clouds, but as we got lower and lower we were able to actually see the
dizzying cliffs that we were biking next to -- helloooo adrenaline. And low and behold, we all made it down in
once piece! Even Erin, who probably doesn’t remember most of the day she was so
sick, was a trooper and made it down without a single complaint.
After a
little rest and relaxation in some hammocks at base camp, we all piled back in
the bus to drive three hours home to La Paz where Alex and I had to catch a
night bus to the Uyuni salt flats.
Salar de
Uyuni
After an
incredibly bumpy but surprisingly restful 12 hour night bus to Uyuni, Alex, our
travel buddy Patrick and I were ready to see the biggest salt flats in the
world first hand. Ever since I had read about them in my little Aventuras
Spanish book at DU, and before I had any clue where I was going to study abroad,
I knew that I wanted to visit the salt flats someday. And now I was finally
there. Look at me achieving my dreams and stuff!
To be
entirely honest, words aren’t capable of describing the absolute immensity of
the Salar de Uyuni. It’s similar to looking out at the ocean because of the
vastness, but the fact that it’s white and sterile adds a surreal nature to it.
It’s peaceful, honestly. It’s a kind of nothingness that I had never previously
witnessed and being in the middle of such emptiness had a sort of calming
effect. I think especially coming from Cusco and La Paz, both fairly chaotic
cities, I needed that sense of spaciousness and tranquility. ‘Twas nice.
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| Sunset/Moonrise |
But anyway, after the boys had made several hundred too many Hannah Montana jokes, we decided to go out to see the sunset from the edge of the salt flats. And it was incredible. Almost incredible enough to rival my bus bathroom sunset that you may have read about in my previous blog. Yeah, that good. But instead of trying to be all poetic and shit and describe it, I’m going to spare a few hundred words and a few minutes of your time. Just take a look at the picture.
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| Definitely worth the early wake-up. |
During the
rest of the day we chilled with some mummies, sang Puff the Magic Dragon on top
of a volcano, and ate a shit ton of food, and visited an island inhabited
solely by cactuses (cacti?). Day well spent.
Volvemos
a La Paz
From there,
we returned to the town of Uyuni to catch another night bus back to La Paz and
ended up running into Claire, Morgan, and some friends who we made in La Paz.
They had plans to stay another night in Bolivia, so instead of going back to
Cusco to Alex I split off and went with them instead. Because I could! We ended
up exploring La Paz one last time and celebrating our friend’s birthday before catching
the bus home the next day.
And that was
the real beauty of it all. We decided we wanted to stay another day, so we did.
We wanted to visit the salt flats, so we did. It was a sort of self-assured freedom
that I’m not sure I had ever experienced before that trip. We came and went as
we pleased, meeting all sorts of incredible personalities along the way. For
me, during that 10 day period, we were the very description of free spirits and
I think once you experience that kind of spontaneity it’s even harder than
usual to be pinned down to a routine. However, humans live in such a way that
often times we don’t have much of a choice.
So I think what I realized during the hours and hours of time that I had to think on the buses is that it’s quite possible to compromise; it’s possible to live with a routine but also live with spontaneity. The trick, I think, is to open your mind each day to an experience that’s new to you. Even if it’s slightly uncomfortable or awkward, we truly live when we see something in a way that we’ve never seen it before.
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| The best travel buddy a girl could ask for. |
So I think what I realized during the hours and hours of time that I had to think on the buses is that it’s quite possible to compromise; it’s possible to live with a routine but also live with spontaneity. The trick, I think, is to open your mind each day to an experience that’s new to you. Even if it’s slightly uncomfortable or awkward, we truly live when we see something in a way that we’ve never seen it before.
I think that’s
what makes some of the travelers I’ve met such special people. They live each
day with uncertainty: not knowing where they’re going or when, but always
knowing that wherever they go, they’ll find something that they’ve never before
seen. Something new and special every day. And yes, of course it’s easy to get
restless after experiencing such easy freedom, but with just a little extra
work each one of us is
capable of experiencing it during our every day, seemingly monotonous lives. Here’s what I wrote in my journal on the bus when I first had this realization:
| Welcome back to Peru!!! |
So my challenge to myself, and to you, is this: open your eyes. Allow yourself to see the moment that presents itself every day where you can choose to be awake. Say “yes” more times than you say “no.” CARPE DIEM, if you will.
And in other
news, if you all haven’t listened to the new The Head and the Heart album, you
should really get on it ahorita (that means right now).
Chau!
Hannah
Chau!
Hannah







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