Public Transportation

Well it had to happen sooner or later; last night I took the wrong bus trying to get home. Correction: it was the right bus but the wrong route, more on that later. Just south of downtown Cochabamba is a huge open-air market called La Cancha where you can buy whatever your heart desires at pretty cheap prices, mostly because everything is fake or pirated. As an example of the array of items for sale, here is what I bought yesterday: slippers, a notepad, cookies, headphones, fruits and veggies, and a scarf. As an example of how cheap it is, I spent less than 100 Bs, or $12. Since La Cancha covers blocks and blocks of ground you are limited only by your patience in trying to find what you want/need. Public transportation runs through the middle of the market for those that don't have cars so that don't have to lug their bounty beyond the boundaries of the stands. It is convenient but creates quite a traffic jam. It was starting to get dark so Sarah and I decided to part ways and take our respective buses home. I knew that the 16 went to within a block of my house, perfect. Unfortunately, I didn't pay close enough attention and got on the 16 headed out of town as opposed to the one coming back in. Confused? Let me explain.

Each bus or trufi has a given route that it cycles the whole day. There are no assigned stops and so if you want to exit the bus you just tell the driver; "Corner, please" or "I'm leaving" or a simple "Stop, please" If you want to get on the bus you just flag one down like you would a taxi in NYC. There is a bus/trufi guide that lays out the routes on a map but most people don't have these guides. Key places or neighborhoods that the bus passes are written on the piece of cardboard that sits behind the windshield, and that is how the Bolivians know where the bus is going, or they just ask the driver if he is going to their destination. That was my first mistake. There are a lot of outlying neighborhoods that are up to 10 km outside the city and most buses go out to those barrios. Therefore, they are either on the way out of the city or on their way back in and I assumed that it was the latter.

I realized after only about 10 blocks that I was not on the correct route but it was already completely dark. I decided that I would just stay where I was because I knew that eventually the 16 would go to my house and I figured that it would be safer than standing on the highway. After about 10 more minutes of driving and the bus becoming increasingly empty, I remembered that the buses don't make an immediate turn around when they reach the end. Sometimes the drivers take a nap, eat something, or finish their shift. I didn't relish the idea of being stranded in one of the barrios in the south of the city. I still didn't know exactly where I was and though I saw buses going the opposite direction I didn't know exactly where they went. Finally, we were making our way through dirt roads of a little neighborhood and I went up and asked the driver if he would eventually be going to Circunvulacion (my street). He said "umm, you're confused" not exactly what I was hoping to hear. I had now been on the bus for about an hour, when it should have taken only 15 to 20 minutes to get home. I remained fairly calm and asked "okay, what can I do?" He explained that other 16's would be passing on their way back. The driver really was incredibly understanding and helpful. He flagged down the next passing 16 and told the driver my situation and even said that I shouldn't have to pay again.

I finally made it home after 2 hours and was in such a heightened state of anxiety that I couldn't eat supper or go to sleep. I ended up just staring for quite some time. I was lucky to have had such a nice guy to help me out and am very thankful for him. All things considered, it was extremely uneventful and I'll definitely be asking from now on. Yay for lessons learned in the most benign of circumstances.

Paro Civico - A Retrospective

Well late Thursday night transportation decided to support the strike. Word on the street is that they wanted a three day weekend. I don't put much faith in the word on the street because the buses and trufies run on the weekend, along with all the taxi companies. It was amazing to watch the news Friday morning with Betty and see footage of the center. The main streets were completely empty, when usually it is bumper to bumper traffic at all times of the day and night. Betty explained to me, an realize that it is no secret that she is a supporter of Evo and doesn't like Manfred at all, that this paro civico was different than in the past. Normally, if it is a legal paro civico then people are allowed to attend work or not as they please. Yesterday, however, citizens had set up blockades and were harassing people that were trying to walk to work, not supporting the strike.

The class policy at the Institute for paro civicos is, as I said, come if you feel comfortable. I didn't feel comfortable, so I planned on staying home. Betty, at about 9am and with sheer joy, ran into my room and said that the blockades were weakening and the police were present to help keep the peace. She called the school and said that a handful of teachers and about 20 students had shown up, AND that if I didn't go to class I would be supporting Manfred. I was kind of restless at the house and just decided to head down to school. Since there weren't enough teachers for the students we formed groups of five or six and had conversation class for the morning. Obviously, conversation stuck mostly to the paro civico and it was interesting to get the different perspectives. Taxis were running during the day, independently from their companies, but the buses and trufies were quite apparently missing. By the end of the work day, between five and six, the paro civico was technically over and the taxi companies and restaurants opened up again. I still didn't see any buses running even into the night but there were people eating in restaurants and out at the clubs. I watched a lot of news yesterday but didn't see groups of protesters or demonstrators. For the most part the city just seemed pretty empty. I felt perfectly safe and just chalked it up to another day of living in a politically active country.

Paro Civico

Evo Morales and Manfred Reyes are two politicians that have it in for each other. Evo is the president of Bolivia and Manfred is the prefect (like a governor) of the department (like a state) of Cochabamba. Because of this power struggle, tomorrow could yield a city wide strike. Here is a little background. The departments are required to formulate a budget for the year and submit it to the federal government to receive funds. Apparently, Manfred and his people didn't get their act together in time and submitted their request late. As a result of the tardiness and Evo's grudge in general, the funds allocated to Cochabamba were significantly less than what was requested. Evo won the presidency with 60% of the vote which, I believe, was the first time that a candidate won with the majority on the first try. So, he was/is quite popular but when you mess with people's money they tend to get upset. They have planned, in theory, a city-wide strike for Friday May 17th, with pretty much everybody taking the day off, from government workers to street vendors, anybody that supports Manfred.

The Bolivians are very politically active people but that usually takes the form of nonviolent protests and blockades. They love to block roads, it is the most popular form of resistance, and can happen without warning and with no idea what the topic of controversy happens to be. Friday will be a bit different though. Everyone seems to have a different opinion about the severity and extent of the strike. The latest I heard, as of yesterday, is that the transportation union wasn't supporting the strike. As a result, the strike will probably not be very dramatic or news worthy, because public transportation will be available as usual and life won't be interrupted too much. Some of the professors adamantly support Evo and have said that no matter what the conditions, they will be at work on Friday. We have been told to play it by ear and not to push our boundaries of comfort, for the most part these actions are safe and nonviolent but some people are more sensitive than others.

I'll submit an update after the strike, if there even is one.

Cristo de la Condordia...Again

After the social hour Friday night, Sarah approached me asking if I'd like to hike up the Cristo with her the next day. I was immediately bombarded with images of a cold and rainy night/morning, walking for hours, climbing an endless path of stairs, more hours of walking and as a result not being able to walk for a couple days. With my hips crying out in protest, I gave her a resounding N-O. That is only a once a year adventure with the motivation of a religious pilgrimage to sustain the spirit and justify the pain. But the more I started thinking about it, and with some encouragement from Sarah that we could take a bus to the bottom and not have to walk a couple hours to get there, I decided that I'd go ahead and power through. At the very least I could take the cable car up to the top.

We headed out on the bus at about 3pm and summited the top at about 4:15. It is amazing what a sunny, yet humidity-free day, does for one's spirits. We had a leisurely walk up to the top, taking breaks along the way; my breaks being for picture-taking, Sarah's for her pea-sized bladder. The people we passed along the way were incredibly pleasant and, thanks to my foresight, we were able to enjoy a nice picnic of trail mix, PB&J sandwiches, and fruit at the foot of Jesus.
I realized that I post a lot of pictures but not very many of them are of me, because I'm usually behind the lens, so I had Sarah shoot me with the Laguna de Alalay (not Lake Titicaca, mom!!) in the background. Oh yeah, and I got my hair cut this weekend too.

The little houses below are the suburbs of Sacaba, a neighboring city to Cochabamba. It's only a city in the same way that Radford is a "city." It is pretty small but also very close, only a 15-20 minute bus ride. Also pictured, a sampling of the mountains that surround Cochabamba on almost all sides.

About halfway through our descent the sun started to set so I did my best with shutter speeds and aperture settings to not let the brightness drown out the mountain or the cityscape. The mountain pictured below is called Tunari and is the highest of the mountains around Cochabamba, with its peak at 5200m or 17000 feet.

I am happy to report on the day after the hike that I feel great! I have very little hip pain and don't feel exhausted. I had the same results after hiking in Parque Pairumani. This leads me to believe that the flat distance walking, rather than climbing, is what tears up my hips. I'm happy to have this new theory because it opens a whole world of hiking to me. So in conclusion, Sarah was right and I should trust her more often.

Luis Espinal Cafe

Luis Espinal is to Bolivia what Archbishop Oscar Romero is to El Salvador. In fact, he was martyred by a death squad only days before Romero. *For those of you that see the words death squad and Bolivia in almost the same sentence and freak out, both Espinal and Romero were murdered in 1980. The political structure of Bolivia today is much more just and safe than it was 25 years ago.* Espinal was a journalist, who became somewhat of a political prophet. He named the dictators from what they were and worked for human rights and justice. Unfortunately, in a world of military totalitarian rule that kind of work doesn't yield a long life expectancy.

So that is a little background on Luis Espinal. The cafe part comes in the form of a group of people that gather in the name of Espinal to promote tolerance and activism towards injustices that exist in Bolivia and in the world. It is not a little coffee shop but rather the name of the gathering. On my first night of attendance, I made the mistake of thinking that it was a cafe that would certainly serve food, and didn't eat supper. Luckily, Kristen and Rick insisted on getting something to eat from the local burger and ice-cream shop before arriving. So far I have only been to their movie nights, every Wednesday evening, but they are really interesting. They are running a series on tolerance. Three weeks ago was my favorite, a scripted movie on the Bosnian/Serbian conflict in the early 90's. The movie follows two soldiers from either side that are caught between lines and have to find a way to co-exist while the UN decides how to resolve their position. The movie was Bosnian with Spanish subtitles so it was also a great exercise in comprehension. Way better than the homework I didn't do because of the movie. The movie last night was the worst though, not for the context but for my complete inability to understand. It was a documentary on the plight of homosexuals in Cuba under Castro's rule. It followed six different homosexuals and documented their stories. The problem with the Cuban dialect is that even some Bolivians can't understand them. They talk fast and don't have the best pronunciation. At the conclusion of the movie, Tim and I skipped the commentary portion of the presentation because the best question we could come up with was "umm, did you guys understand what they were saying cause we didn't catch a thing."

It is a really neat program, and I am enjoying it a lot. Next week there will be a presentation on globalization which I plan on attending. I'm not sure what the movie will be next week but I wasn't so traumatized by Dos Patrias, Cuba y la Noche that I've given up hope. I'll definitely keep going. It is a very interesting demographic of attendees. There are youths and elderly, and men and women. It is a really good group of people and hopefully I can make some solid connections with people here in Cochabamba through the Cafe.

Feria Internacional de Cochabamba

Today marks the end of a week long, annual fair here in Cochabamba. Because of reports from students with varying degrees of negativity describing the Feria after their visits, I decided that I'd just avoid the whole thing. I had heard that it was boring and a sensory overload. Ted, one of the students at the institute, described the event as, "a terrible mixture of Home Depot, the worst info-mercials you've ever seen, and your local county fair." Surprisingly, that didn't incite a fire of desire in me to attend. However, at the urging of a friend, some of us went last night, at least to see this famous music group perform.

It was unlike anything I've ever experienced. It was more like an expo for a ton of products ranging from natural foods to industrial cow-milking machines. Inside a large tent were kiosks of these different companies, some with free samples while others just looking dejected at the inevitability of not being able to sell their $20,000 bread ovens. No matter the product, every kiosk had barely dressed women to help sell their goods. It was shameful at best.

Outside the tents were carnival rides and a multitude of food stands. There was not a plot of grass that wasn't crowded with people and everyone seemed to be having a pretty good time, even into the wee hours of the morning. The concert was entertaining. It cost extra to actually get into the concert grounds but the fence was really low and most people just crowded around and watched from afar. Apparently, the band is like a Bolivian Rolling Stones. They've been around for 35 years but the demographic of the crowd was mostly youth. They were really into the music and singing along. I'm glad that I went and I especially liked the craft stands; it was good that I didn't bring more money than I did or I would have ended up with more trinkets than is healthy. I enjoyed myself but I think that next year, I'll rest up better and get an earlier start.