Feliz Navidad!

In the last few weeks, people at work have been talking a lot about "canastones". From what I could tell, these were baskets of goodies traditionally handed out before Christmas. I had imagined they would contain some chocolates and perhaps a bottle of wine or champagne. Well, I was in for a surprise. On Friday, we each received our canaston. Instead of a basket, we received a custom-ordered backpack (with our name and the Pro Mujer logo) plus a big plastic bag filled with .... what I can most easily sum up as non-perishable food items. There was a package of spaghetti, a jar of mayonnaise, canned peaches, canned peas, condensed milk, some packaged cake, powdered mix for pudding, powdered mix for Jello-O, a jar of Nescafe, Bolivia's version of Spam, quite a few other things, and a bottle of wine (at least I wasn't wrong about that). Wow! They certainly have me stocked up through the New Year now. It was all so heavy that I needed help bringing the bags home.

On another Christmas note, a new movie theater opened up across from where we live. Actually it's a mall, but only the ground and basement floors are ready at this point, i.e. the movie theater and food court. Apparently, that's enough to have a grand opening. Despite the fact that the rest of the building is still very much in construction (as you can see here) - with steel poles sticking out, unpainted cement slabs gracing the next 1-2 floors (and the building is supposed to have 10 floors of which 7 are still missing), and construction materials surrounding the place. Safety standards are a little different here. It is a good theater though. We saw Avatar in 3D there yesterday and it was impressive (plus I really liked the movie itself).

We won't really be celebrating Christmas this year. It feels odd to do so when it's 20+ degrees Celsius out and we don't really have close family and friends around. The whole Christmas spirit has largely passed us by. But the travel spirit is still very much alive, so we'll be making our way to Chile instead, which I can't complain about at all as an alternative.

Don't Get Mad, Get Civil

It took a while for me to notice that Bolivians in general don't raise their voice. You hardly ever hear quarrels on the street, public transportation, between customers and vendors. I guess they just don't like to argue. If you are not happy about something or want to complain you employ the "whine" I have mentioned previously. Being used to almost constant grumpiness and complaints back home (Bulgaria) and the eternal quest for perfect customer service in the U.S. (so much so, people often end up telling others how to do their job), this "state of things" in Bolivia, took me by surprise. I felt like a jerk when I had to argue with a woman to change our cinema tickets to another movie only minutes after we had bought them (as a result of a misunderstanding by both me and her). But in my world, when something isn't done right, it has to be fixed. And if it can't be fixed, you at least have to let off some steam. Shows what I know. This weekend showed me that perhaps, just perhaps, I may be wrong.

We traveled to Coroico for the weekend, a town approximately 2 hours away from La Paz, in the warmer Yungas region. We had it all planned out - where we would stay, what we would do, how much money we would need. In general, we try not to take our credit and debit cards around with us out of precaution for having them stolen. All was well until the time came for us to check out. What we had thought would be the cost of the room (and therefore what we budgeted for) turned out to be the cost per person. Gulp. We didn't have enough money to pay our bill. We were about $15 short. There are no words that can truly capture how I felt once I realized this - embarrassed doesn't begin to cover it. We had no credit cards, no debit cards, no other money at all. I explained that when we booked and been told the cost, no-one had clarified it was per person. (Granted, we could and probably should have verified, or at least over-budgeted.) But what was done was done. We remembered the hotel site mentioned they accepted Paypal. However, their account wasn't working or something of the sort. I mentioned that I know one of my credit card numbers off by heart, but that didn't work either. The card had to be scanned through a reader. At this point, I thought that the lady at the reception would get really mad or at the very least lecture us for being so stupid. Instead, she was super calm and helpful. There wasn't a hint of an attitude. She asked us if we lived in La Paz and then told us we could deposit the remainder we were missing into her account the following day. She would cover the bill for the time being. I apologized profusely several times. And all she said was, "No se preocupe" (Don't worry about it). I am still in a state of astonishment - not only at her reaction but at her level of trust towards us. Fine, we are not talking about hundreds of dollars here, but still. Maybe there is something to this more zen-like attitude.

Bolivia's Elections

This post comes somewhat late. After all, Bolivia's presidential and parliamentary elections are later today. I am not going to delve into a lengthy analysis here, but I do want to mention a few things, just from personal observation and conversations with various people.

From what I can tell, there has been very little coverage of Bolivia's elections outside of Bolivia. Even, The Economist (a publication I highly respect) managed to publish only one piece (that appeared online only) back in September. By the time the piece came out, several of the presidential candidates mentioned had dropped out of the race. Unfortunately, Bolivia is largely out of sight and out of mind for most people. So, what can I report on that might change that at least somewhat?

Few question that Evo Morales will be re-elected - the uncertainty revolves mainly around what percentage of the vote he will actually win. Will it be higher or lower than the 53% percent he secured in 2005? Either way, polls show him leading his opponents (Samuel Doria Medina and Manfred Reyes Villa) by at least 30 percentage points. (And according to a new electoral law, even if Morales doesn't win a majority of the votes, if he leads the runner-up by more than 10 percentage points, there is no need for a runoff.) It is really hard to predict what that percentage will be, mostly because polling here tends to be unreliable (and most often underreports support for Morales, given that few polls are conducted in the most rural parts of the country). Most of my colleagues at work will not be voting for Morales, they told me. Why? They think that his government could have done more for the people. Many things could have been improved, they claim. (I just want to note that most of my colleagues are not of indigenous descent.) They applaud the concept of greater equality and more opportunity for the country's indigenous population, but inclusion is not everything. You need educated and competent people running the country and in their opinion (and that of many other people of non-indigenous descent), Morales's government is not made up of those individuals. Now, in El Alto, one of Morales's strongholds, things are very different. There, Morales is God. Two weeks ago, we were on a day trip out of La Paz and drove through El Alto. A huge march was taking place, with rows and rows of people (mostly women and mostly indigenous) filing through the streets. To them, Morales personifies greater rights and improvements in their standard-of-living (Morales started several cash payment programs - to children in public schools, to the elderly, and to pregnant women and promises more; in addition, his government claims to have made significant investments in public works - building health clinics, roads, water connections.)

For these elections, a new biometric system has been put in place. When we arrived in August, the registration process was in full swing. It is quite a feat to register more than 4 million Bolivians in the span of less than a year. (Voting here is mandatory, and everyone received an appointment to register for the new system and provide their fingerprint.) Some say that the new system will ensure a fraud-free process. Others claim that the whole system has been financed by Chavez and Venezuela and is therefore rigged. Members of the elite especially like to argue about the prevalence of fraud during the registration process. And some even fear a full-blown socialist revolution taking place should Morales be reelected - with all foreigners being kicked out of the country and all industries being nationalized (very exaggerated in my opinion).

One other interesting thing is that Morales has refused to debate with the opposition candidates. Not quite sure why that is. Given his strong lead in the polls and influence over state television and radio stations, it seems he would have nothing to fear. It has been somewhat hard to get a clear understanding of the issues at stake and the canditates' stand on them. As one of the blog posts (on issues) cited below mentions, in Bolivia the elections do not center so much around issues but around identity, alliances and class lines. And, a final thought - much as was the case with the Bush administration, many claim that it is actually the Vice President, Alvaro Garcia Linera, pulling the strings when it comes to key decisions. And that he is the one to be feared for extremism and human rights abuses.

What do I think is going to happen later today? My prediction is that Morales will win less than 50% of the vote, but that is more of a guess than any scientific projection. In any case, it will be interesting to follow the results, especially those of the parliamentary elections, since they are projected to be closer to call.

And finally, I can recommend the following, if you would like to read up further (albeit with a delay) on the presidential candidates, how the electoral process works in Bolivia, the issues, and a number of opinions of the elections (WSJ, Heritage Foundation, and political science professor Miguel Centellas's blog).

What Would You Like to Know About Bolivia?

I realized that you may have questions about this place. So, here is your chance to ask them, and I will do my best to answer them. Whether it concerns politics, the economy, its people, or every-day life, it doesn't matter. Ask. I think the resulting discussion and opportunity for me to do some research can turn out to be quite interesting. So, what's on your mind? (And, please, don't leave me hanging :) )

Bolivia's Mythical Sea Access

Bolivia is a land-locked country, but that hasn't always been the case. There was a time (which ended in 1883-84) when Bolivia enjoyed access to the Pacific Ocean. A time that most Bolivians would like to see return. Many of them think about this quite a bit, as I have come to discover. How did they lose their access to the sea? Like most countries that lose territory, it happened in a war, against Chile. (As a side note, Bolivia has sadly lost all of the wars it has fought. And since its independence in 1825 it lost over half of its territory to neighboring countries.) What I hadn't realized is that before Chile gained that territory, it was divided in two parts by Bolivia's territory - so there was Chile, Bolivia, then Chile again. I am sure the Chileans were very happy to see their country become one undivided territory. But back to Bolivia's sea access. The topic has come up several times in conversations I have had with the guides or locals we have met on some of our trips. The predominant view seems to be that had Bolivia not lost its sea access, the country would be more developed, richer, and better off than it is currently. One man kept talking about some "impressive" (according to him) mine in Chile that would have been on Bolivia's territory had they not lost it. Mostly, there is a sentiment of great loss and hope that what has been lost will be recovered one day. (This monument pays homage to this hope.) Bolivia still has its navy for example, stationed presently on Lake Titicaca.

The question of whether Bolivia would have been better off had it not lost its sea access is a contentious one. Of course, one can see how having cheaper channels for transportation of goods, especially for export and import would help. How not having to depend on the whims, policies, and sometimes the good will of neighboring countries would help. On the other hand, however, all of that matters little if these resources and advantages (and the rest of the economy) are not managed rationally and smartly, governed by the right policies and their thorough implementation. So, as much as some would like to believe that things could have been very different, I am afraid that they probably would not have been that different. (But, a counterfactual is hard to prove either way.)

However, I can relate to Bolivians' sense of loss. Bulgaria lost much of its territory to neighbors during wars to end up with the approximately 111,000 square kilometers its area covers currently. We can try to blame many things on history - if it wasn't for the Ottomans, then the Communists... and before them all, the Byzantines. But, at the end of the day, history only plays a role in teaching us (hopefully) not to repeat the mistakes of the past. It is what we do at the present moment that matters. And instead of wallowing in hopes that events of the past may be reversed we should take charge of what is happening right now. I think Bolivia has to stop yearning for the sea and focus its energies on the resources currently at its disposal. Its lithium reserves in the Salar de Uyuni for example, which apparently make up 50% or more of the lithium reserves in the world. And its amazing nature resources - there are so many opportunities for real eco-tourism, for carbon offsets, and much more. The sad thing for me to see is that among all this plenty, the majority of people here still live in poverty. But I guess this situation describes many developing countries. Noticing it is not hard; it's fixing it that's the tough part.

How You Got Here

I've been playing around on alexa.com these past few days looking up traffic ranks and other stats for a number of websites. So, I decided to check how my blog ranks. I got a laugh out of the keywords that drive traffic here. Apparently they are (in order of frequency):

Hmmm, not sure how the last one leads people to my blog (for non-Bulgarians, the translation is "problems with becoming pregnant"), but hey, at least it might get a few more people interested in what I write by accident.

Traversing Southwest Bolivia: Salar de Uyuni to the Chilean Border (and Back)

Date of trip: 30 October – 2 November 2009

The southwest part of Bolivia is one of the most remote corners of the country, almost exclusively popularized through tours of the Salar de Uyuni (Uyuni Salt Flats). Without these tours, I doubt that the majority of tourists passing through Bolivia would ever make it down there. We took the opportunity to visit one of Bolivia’s top attractions over the long weekend of Todos Santos (All Saints). You need three days and two nights to do the standard tour of the Southwest and that’s exactly what we had, if we made two overnight bus journeys there and back.

We left on Friday evening on what was to be a 12-hour journey to Uyuni on a cama (sleeper) bus with bathroom and heating on board. They were right about the bathroom. However, the heating consisted of a woolen blanket awaiting each passenger on his/her seat. Gotta love people’s exaggerations here sometimes. All in all, it was not bad however. The blanket came in very handy, as it got pretty cold during the second half of the trip. Highlights from the bus ride included: 1) The driver forgetting to shut the bus door. There was no way to communicate with him and make him aware of this fact since he was sitting in a separate compartment with a separate outside entrance and no access from the passenger portion of the bus. So, I had to call the ticket office in La Paz, to get them to call the driver, to tell him to shut the door. This happened twice. (The second time, Milos tried to signal to him by waving his arm out the door while the bus was moving slowly. The bus driver was not looking in his rearview mirrors. Oh well.)

2) The bumpy ride during the last six hours of the trip. An hour or so outside the town of Oruro (approximately six hours into the trip), the nice paved road is replaced by uneven gravel. (Actually sometimes it feels like the bus is simply driving over no road in the desert.) In addition to the constant vibrations and shaking, we also had to put up with the dust/sand that was constantly coming in through the bus windows that kept sliding open because of the vibrations. A thin layer of dust settled over everything, including my face. But it was all part of the adventure.

3) Being “propelled” out of your seat if you shifted positions. The reclining seats were great (and there was plenty of leg room). Only problem was that they didn’t really “click” into their reclined position. Thus, every time you shifted a little bit in your seat, the seat back would “unrecline” and seat your upright pretty fast. This was repeated numerous times during the course of the night.

Twelve hours later, we arrived in Uyuni. First impressions: dust everywhere and most buildings don’t have a second floor. We wandered around to find the agency with which we had booked our tour. That wasn’t hard. The center is approximately three by three blocks. Once we dropped off our stuff and changed, we went to have breakfast. At 10:30 our tour would start.

We were curious to find out who our travel companions would be – six tourists + a driver usually travel together in one Toyota Land Cruiser on these tours. We weren’t disappointed. We were joined by two American girls, one Australian girl, and one Croatian guy (yes, can you believe it! How did three people from the Balkans end up in one jeep in Southwest Bolivia?!?!) All great company. The driver, Cornelio, was super nice (and as we would later learn, also a very good driver and maintenance keeper of our vehicle). Uyuni thrives on these Salar + Southwest Bolivia (or Sud Lipez, as the area is known) tours. There are probably more than 50 companies in Uyuni that offer these tours – again, some better than others. Things to watch out for when booking are the condition of their vehicles, the type of food they plan to serve, whether they plan to fit 6 or 7 (very uncomfortable) tourists in your jeep, and how responsible the drivers are. (We had heard stories of drivers getting drunk or driving like maniacs, sometimes resulting in fatal accidents.) Also, it is good to ask whether the jeep has a connection for an iPod or other MP3 player. The drives can get pretty long and monotonous at times (especially on the last day driving back to Uyuni from the Chilean border).

We were off! Our first stop was the train cemetery just outside Uyuni. Steam locomotives and their compositions had been left to decay here after rising coal prices made their use prohibitive, and Bolivia switched to diesel locomotives. Cornelio told us that all the trains were German or British makes, and had been used until the 1930s. The cemetery had a sad feel to it. With a little bit of signage and more history retold somehow, it could turn into a pretty nice museum. After all, it is a unique place. Currently though, it did give more the impression of piles of metal simply rusting away, while plastic bags littered the surrounding area.

Next up, we stopped at an artisans’ market where salt figurines of animals and alpaca wool products were sold. Nothing too interesting or worth buying though. Plus, we were eager to get to the actual Salar.

You enter the Salar and you feel like you are in an alternate universe. An expanse of white as far as the eye can see. (Well, I guess this whiteness gets broken every once in a while by the jeeps that traverse it.) The Salar was formed through the transformation of several prehistoric lakes. Underneath the surface salt crust is a pool of brine consisting of salt, lithium chloride and magnesium chloride in water. The depth of this brine can vary from several centimeters at the edges of the Salar to several meters in the center. It is 10,500 sq kms in area (4,000 sq miles) – the biggest salt flat in the world. Supposedly, it also holds 50 to 70% of the world’s lithium reserves, which have still not been exploited. (Although we recently heard that the Bolivian government will give the rights for exploitation to the Russians – ah, if only they knew that they can be bigger capitalists than the Americans, but alas. Sadly, the benefits of this deal will probably not trickle down to the ordinary Bolivian people.)

Around lunch time we arrived at Isla Incahuasi – one of several “islands” (more like oases) in the Salar. Supposedly, these were the tops of ancient volcanoes which were submerged in the prehistoric lakes, leaving behind a collection of coral-like rock formations and now also hundreds of giant cacti. The island is a complete contrast to the Salar – brown and covered in cacti. Then, came the time for the amusing pictures. Given that flatness and vastness of the Salar, one can really play with distance and perspective here. People standing on top of Coke bottles or Pringles cans; giant people stomping on miniature folks; one person holding another in the palm of their hand. These are only some of the ideas people have come up with. We, of course, came up with some of our own (pictured below). No Photoshop here. Only a matter of playing with distance and positioning.

We spent the first night in a “salt hotel” off of the Salar. (There actually used to be one on the Salar, but because of ground contamination, its operations were halted and it has now been turned into a museum.) Pretty basic accommodations, but good enough. All six of us shared one room. The beds and the furniture in the eating area were made of blocks of salt, and salt crystals lined the floor. Dinner was eagerly awaited. And it was pretty good. Although we still can’t quite get used to Bolivians’ love of carbohydrates. They like to eat pasta with rice, or potatoes with pasta, or any combination that allows you to eat as many carbohydrates as possible. It is quite amazing!

Second day – we got up around 6 am and were off by 7. The whole second day is an exploration of lagoons and volcanoes to the south of the Salar. First stop, a lookout point over to Volcano Ollague (5865m) in the distance. Gave us the chance to clamber up some interesting rock formations. Next stop, Laguna Cañapa and our first glimpse of the pink flamingoes we had heard so much about. Three species of flamingo frequent the lagoons of Southwest Bolivia, and they don’t seem to be disturbed by the frequently high sulfur content. I had been used to seeing flamingoes wading or standing around in nature videos/films. Well, these flamingoes spent all their time with their heads buried in the water. Apparently, they suck in several times per second in order to take in the algae and brine shrimp that they feed on and expel the water and silt. They also get their pink coloring from the high beta-carotene content of their diet – a fact I had not known until this point. After lunch at Laguna Hedionda (by far the most sulfuric one) and passing by several other lagoons, we entered a stretch of sand desert, broken only by strange rock formations along the way. We stopped at one such outcrop of rocks to look for viscachas (the Andean version of the rabbit, with long tails). After more than 30 minutes of trying to spot one, we were ready to give up, when someone suddenly pointed one out – sitting proudly on a rock. It’s amazing to see that any animals live in this landscape. But viscachas, vicuñas (something like a cross between a llama and an antelope), rheas (related to the ostrich), and flamingoes seem to do quite well in this climate. (Not to mention, the Andean cat and a couple of others that we didn’t spot.)

Just before dinner time, we arrived at Laguna Colorada (The Colored Lagoon) – named as such because of its stark brick reddish color (apparently because of similarly colored algae). Here we spent the night. Pretty basic accommodations once again, but given how tired we all were, I don’t think anyone cared. Dinner and a warm bed was all that was needed. The next morning we would be getting up at 4:30 am.

Third day – a bright and early start in order to see the geysers at Sol de Mañana at sunrise and make it to the hot springs in time for breakfast. The sulfuric fumes rising from the mud pots at Sol de Mañana while the sun slowly rose up from the horizon made for an eerie experience. In the midst of the fumes, you couldn’t see the person standing a few feet away from you. At the hot springs, we debated whether to take a dip. It was pretty chilly outside, so I wasn’t sure I wanted to be faced with that cold on the way out of the hot water. In the end, though, I decided I shouldn’t miss this experience and took the plunge. The water was heavenly. And it wasn’t so bad on the way out either.

After breakfast, we continued our way south, all the way to the Chilean border. The last highlights before the border were the Salvador Dali Desert (named as such because of the strangely shaped single boulders that dot the sandy landscape) and Laguna Verde (a turquoise colored lagoon, again frequented by flamingoes). At the border, some people transfer to San Pedro de Atacama in Chile instead of making the traverse back to Uyuni. We said goodbye to our Australian companion here. Then (around 9:45 am) we started the drive back to Uyuni, stopping only for lunch at the village of Mallcu Villa Mar. Desert after desert landscape changed before our eyes. In one part, we also drove through several green pastures and small rivers, with herds of llamas enjoying the lush grass. Once we got to the paved road, it was a fast and uneventful drive back to Uyuni, with only the occasional “Llama Crossing” sign signaling that we were still far from real civilization.

Uyuni, dinner, and another 12 hours on the bus – this time with no bathroom on board, despite what we had been told. We were so tired though, that we couldn’t care less. I slept most of the way back to La Paz (even through the bumpy stretch). Had time to take a quick shower before making my way to the office and back to the “civilized” way of life.

I missed the desert already.

In the Footsteps of the Incas

Date of trip: 17-18 October 2009

The Inca Trail that most people have heard of is the one leading to Machu Picchu in Peru. And because of this very popularity, it is also quite crowded (or so I have heard). Well, Bolivia also has quite a few Inca trails of its own. Few people know this. I only realized this once I arrived in Bolivia. But the beauty of these Inca trails is that they are largely free of traffic. Or so we’d heard. So, we decided to tackle one of them, supposedly the easiest one, which runs mostly downhill – the Takesi trek. I would subsequently learn that downhill isn’t always good. But that comes later.

We started out early on Saturday morning – the two of us, two Danes we had met in La Paz, a guide, and a cook. (The cook was almost an hour late in the end, but I guess that should not be surprising at this point. We enjoyed a cup of tea while we waited.) The 2-hour drive to the beginning of the trek passes through several communities, the Palca canyon, and offers some great views of Mount Illimani. By the time we reached Mina San Francisco – the starting point of the trek – I was itching to get out of the car. The air was cold and it was quite windy. The first part of the trek is uphill for about 1.5 hours (depending on your pace it could be done in as little as 40 minutes, but at that altitude, approximately 4,000m or 12,000ft, it was hard for us to walk fast). I was somewhat out-of-breath, but for the first time I felt that my body had adapted somewhat to the thin air. The views around us were pretty similar to the other ones we had seen at that altitude – plenty of rocks and brown, barren space. It seemed like a moon landscape. By the time we got up to 4600m, all that seemed to surround us were piles of rocks. From that peak we started the descent on a mostly preserved “paved” Inca trail into the valley.

We had lunch in the village of Takesi. A sign at the entrance to the village informed us that 20 women and 22 men lived there. It was probably fairly outdated, since we saw only one woman (and very few houses). One of the most striking things about the Takesi Inca Trail is that it descends to approximately 2200m over 30+ kms. The landscape changes many times over, from barren peaks to lush valleys, from dense tropical forest to wide open plains. The contrasts are phenomenal. Over the two days of our hike, we didn’t come across a single other tourist and we saw very few locals. You really have the feeling that you have that space all to yourself and can fully immerse yourself in its energy. Over the course of the first day, we trekked for 8 hours. At the 7th hour, my knees were starting to hate the downhill and I couldn’t help but keep asking myself, “Are we there yet?” That was the point at which I noticed that the dense tropical vegetation was giving way to more tame varieties – flowers started appearing; the dirt path underneath our feet was quickly replaced by a thick carpet of green grass. It felt like I had entered some fairy tale world. I almost expected to see the witch’s house from Hansel and Gretel appear at any second. We were nearing Kakapi – a community where we set up camp for the night. We camped on a ridge overlooking a green valley. It was quite amazing to wake up to that view the following morning. We were a four-hour hike from civilization in either direction. Remote and free.

It was difficult to get up the following day, especially because my knees were still quite sore and I knew that more downhill awaited us. (I had already started wishing that the trek would continue uphill. It felt much easier to walk uphill than downhill at that point.) But at least I knew that the trek would be shorter – only four hours or so – until we reached the end of the trail at the Chojlla mine. We passed two more communities, a hydroelectric station, an aqueduct, and had to cross a river via a makeshift “bridge” consisting of a pile of logs, as the real suspension bridge had collapsed a few years back under the weight of a group of kids on a school outing (sadly, a couple of them had died in the accident). My favorite part of the trek that day was the last 1.5 hours or so on a smooth, even path with a slight upward incline. It felt great on the tired knees.

The adventure didn’t quite end with the end of the trail. After a quick lunch, we started the drive back to La Paz (the driver who had dropped us off the day before at the start of the trail had come to pick us up). To my dismay, the first 30 kms or so were on something very much resembling the Death Road (a narrow, gravel road winding along the side of the mountain), except it was probably not known as such given the lower volume of traffic. It also started raining pretty heavily. My heart stopped for a second at the prospect of having to squeeze by another vehicle every time I saw a bus or truck head towards us from the opposite direction. I was on the edge of my seat the whole time, especially since our driver (experienced as he may have been) would gesticulate to his companions or turn over to talk to them in the middle of a curve. My relief was immense once we joined the main, paved road. Back to El Cumbre, and back to La Paz.

Cultural Misunderstandings

Ah, where to begin? I’ve been putting off this post in the hope of gaining more clarity into why certain things work the way they do here. But, on the other hand, if I wait too long, I may get used to the status quo and be unable to capture the details as I see them now, two months into our stay in La Paz.

I guess the biggest frustrations I run into on an almost daily basis are 1) la hora Boliviana (Bolivian time); 2) Bolivians’ apparent disregard for scheduled things, whether they be a meeting, a working session, or information they owe you (which I often view as procrastination); and 3) their indirect communication style (or lack of communication, in fact). I don’t mean to come off as condescending or a snob, and I definitely don’t mean any offense. There are many things to love about Bolivians and I am by no means trying to be disrespectful. What I am about to elaborate on are simply things that I personally see as different and somewhat difficult, fully realizing that of course things are bound to be different here. I also realize that I might be making sweeping generalizations (I am sure there are many individuals out there that don’t fit this bill.) But since this blog is (more often than not) my way of noting cultural difference and nuances, I want to capture them while they are still fresh in my mind.

La hora Boliviana – I think I have talked about this before. But basically it boils down to this. You will agree on a certain time with someone (for a meeting, dinner, etc.) and most often than not, the other person (if Bolivian) will show up at least 30 minutes late. Not that big a deal when you get used to it and plan accordingly (after all, often Bulgarians and other Latin Americans function the same way). It becomes a problem, however, when you need to plan your day around a given meeting. With an hour or two delay, it is almost impossible to plan anything with certainty. The other day, our Internet was out. We were told someone would come by at 18:30, so we waited (instead of going out as planned). Well, by 19:30 no-one had showed up. So we left. But in our eyes, we had also just wasted an hour waiting.

Disregard for scheduled things – This is somewhat connected to la hora Boliviana, in the sense that people don’t seem to take appointments of any sort seriously. But there is something else. People here love to put things off for tomorrow, then next week, then next month. So, basically if you are told “tomorrow”… well, it may or may not happen the following week. I had a friend come to do research for two weeks in La Paz. He was supposed to interview several officials in different institutions (both governmental and non-). Several times he showed up at the agreed-upon time and the person simply wasn’t there or didn’t show up. There was no communication whatsoever letting my friend know of the cancellation or delay. At best, I find that disrespectful. But I guess people here don’t view it this way. This also extends to my work…. I am often waiting on people to give me information or look over something. There is only so much gentle prodding I can do (especially given the very hierarchical and political, as I have learned, arrangement at the office). Sigh. Sometimes, with a little bit of guilt, I do yearn for the efficiency of the U.S. private sector (and I never thought I would be saying this, since I left said private sector in 2006).

And we get to the communication style. Well, I already mentioned some things above. People here don’t appear to be great communicators. When they cannot make a meeting, they don’t call or email you to reschedule. They often just simply don’t show up. Or if they do, it is often only to tell you that it will have to wait till tomorrow. Another side of the story is that people (at least in my experience in the office) tend to have a very unclear and round-about way of telling you something. It definitely borders on the proverbial beating around the bush. And then you wonder why things take so long or why there are so many misunderstandings. I have emailed my direct supervisor several times to give her updates on my work. She hasn`t emailed me back once.

I have noticed though that people have a special way of communicating when they want to get their way. I call it the “Bolivian whine”. It is hard to describe in words, but basically to get you to do something, people, and women especially, employ a pleading technique. For example: “Señorita, por favor, señoritaa, pero porque te voy a engañar, señoritaaa” (Miss, please miss, why would I try to cheat you, miss) said one sales lady to me who was trying to convince me the Bolivar (one of the big Bolivian soccer teams) jersey she was showing me was an original. I find it amusing, how quickly the switch from serious, I mean business, to pleading, I am a victim, can happen. But it works! I have heard people employ it at work, when they need something urgently from someone. I should take note and adopt this. May save me some waiting time. I was told on Friday by an acquaintance here that once the other side says “Bueno, bueno” and nods, that means that you will get what you asked for. Good to know.

And finally, thought I would note down, things that people seem to find strange about me.

1)    I am the only one, it seems, to bring my own reusable shopping bag to the supermarket. The boys who pack the groceries at the register gave each other looks in the beginning (after all, am I crazy not to want to augment my collection of plastic bags? more is better, basic economics teaches us), but now they have gotten used to it and just smile.
2)    I don`t eat a huge lunch. Lunch is the most important meal of the day here. If you order a set lunch (almuerzo) outside, you will get an appetizer + soup + main dish + dessert. When I bring a sandwich to work, people often offer to give me some of their food, for fear I will starve.
3)    I can`t eat lunch immediately after eating a huge piece of cake. When it`s someone`s birthday at the office, we celebrate by having cake or salteñas around 11:30. On the days that we do, I usually eat lunch around 2 or sometimes even 3 pm. People don´t understand this and ask me every time why I am not eating lunch at 1, as we usually do. I give the same explanation, every time: I am not hungry yet because of the cake we just had. I guess it is not convincing.
4)    We don`t have any kind of hired help at home. The doorman to our building asked me once, why don`t you hire a maid, when I asked where the nearest laundry place was. We do our own shopping, cooking, cleaning, and laundry and we are foreigners … IMPOSSIBLE.
5)    Why I would ever come to Bolivia. People often ask me how long I have been here or how long I will stay. When I say that I will be here for a year, they often look puzzled and ask me why I decided to come here in the first place. It helps to say you will be here longer than a few months. People tend to take you more seriously. You are not merely passing through. But they still don`t fully understand why you would come here in the first place.

Daring the World's Most Dangerous Road

Date of trip: Saturday, 3 October 2009

It is impossible to come to Bolivia (especially to La Paz) and not hear of the World’s Most Dangerous Road or Death Road (El Camino de la Muerte) as Bolivians refer to it. It used to be the case that you would not only hear of it, but also have to travel on it if you were going to the Amazon region of the country. That is, until 2007 when a new road was finally finished and opened to traffic. Cars still sometimes use the Death Road, but rarely. Thankfully. Because the road’s “fame” originated from the 200 to 300 victims it would take every year; people who plunged to their end off the edge of the cliff. Today, the Death Road is mostly used by tourists on bike tours down to the Yungas town of Coroico. Many tour agencies in La Paz offer the trip – some more experienced and better equipped than others. That’s why it is very important to pick well before you make the trip. We heard stories of people going on tours with agencies that had bikes with very bad brakes. You don’t want to risk that on this road, trust me. When it came to picking whom we would go with, the decision boiled down to two agencies – Gravity Assisted and Madness Bolivia. Both are recommended by the Lonely Planet and both had been recommended to us by friends who had personally taken the tour. Madness was offering a discount on the price at the time we were looking to go, so with Madness we went.

The days before we were booked to make the trip, it had rained almost every day. I wasn’t looking forward to biking the road with rain or fog. Luckily, the day of, it cleared up. The sky was bright blue; the sun beating down strongly. We had heard that normally a group on any day consists of at most 10 to 12 people. The day we went, there were 24 of us! Talk about a caravan of bikes. (We later learned that a tour group of 14 Aussies had signed up at the last minute.) We met up early on Saturday morning, had breakfast, gathered our gear, loaded up into three mini-buses and departed for El Cumbre – the high point, from which our descent would begin. Three guides plus the mini-buses were to accompany us all the way down to Yolosa (our end point). After some brief instructions and testing of the bikes, we were on our way. The first part of the descent follows the new, paved road. It is a fast, smooth ride downhill. Hugging the curves, wind in your face, enjoying the scenery. I might add that when we started, I was wearing my ski jacket and gloves. It was pretty cold, especially with the wind. The lower we rode, the warmer it got, and the layers started coming off. The whole group stopped a couple of times. I stopped more often to take pictures and just admire the scenery without having to worry whether I might topple over. The landscape down to the Yungas is pretty impressive. You start out at La Cumbre with nothing but barren rocks and brown hillsides. But this quickly changes and the metamorphosis goes through more grass and some bushes until you reach the point where the tropical vegetation begins and the humidity shoots up. We passed through a drug checkpoint (although there they mostly check people coming from the other direction, since that is coca country) and a checkpoint where we had to pay 25 Bs each to use the road to Coroico and sign our names, along with passport numbers and nationality. I have never been to a country where there are as many checkpoints as I have seen in Bolivia so far, but that is a subject for another post. 

At one point, our descent down the new road ended and the real “death part” of the journey began – on the old, narrow, gravel road. When I saw it, it was hard for me to imagine that this road had been used with such frequency in the past. It was even harder for me to imagine that two cars, let alone two trucks or buses, could pass each other on the narrow surface. Because that is all it is. A narrow, flat gravel surface that winds along the edge of the mountains, with no protective barrier of any kind separating you from the open air. Needless to say, I tried to stay far from the edge and relied on my brakes quite a bit, especially in the beginning. After a while, you get used to the surface, the constant bumps and become more familiar with what your bike can and can’t do on this road. And you loosen up and enjoy the ride. And it is a spectacular ride. Aside from the sheer adrenaline rush, the stunning scenery all around you makes for an almost surreal experience. You feel really tiny compared to the massive green hills around you, the cliff below you, and the brown thread of a road winding its way along the hillside far ahead or below. By the time we arrived in Yolosa, about 4 hours later, I was in a T-shirt, sweaty, and ready for a beer.
 

After a brief pit stop, lunch, and a dip in the swimming pool in a nearby hotel, we made our way to the place where we would spend the night. (We had decided to stay overnight in Yolosa. Everyone else in our group, except for one person, returned that same afternoon to La Paz.) La Senda Verde – eco-lodge and animal refuge. We had been told it is a pretty unique and fun place. We were too tired to explore that evening but the next day we found out why. We made the acquaintance of several monkeys (capuchin, spider and squirrel), a couple of dogs, a very curious coati, a bear, and several guinea fowl, macaws, and parrots. The thing that most amazed me about the place is that all these animals co-existed in perfect harmony – the dogs playing with the monkeys, the monkeys teasing the macaws, and the coati… well the coati was just nosy about everything. Mostly, it would sniff along the ground with its long snout (our hunch was that he was looking for ants or worms), but then when it got close to us, it sniffed us out pretty much everywhere and later proceeded to do the same with one of the dogs while it was sleeping. After breakfast, we observed the bear being fed, after which we decided to visit the pool. That’s where we discovered the capuchin monkeys – playful, cheeky and super curious. One minute they were trying to steal something away from us, the next, one was giving me a hug. They were the most adorable things and made the cutest sounds, especially when they weren’t getting their way. Now, how can anyone resist that? We played with the capuchins and one spider monkey and her baby for over an hour. That has probably been the highlight of my stay in Bolivia so far. At the end, it was hard to leave. And I guess some of the monkeys didn’t want us to leave either. The spider monkey and her baby hugged me as I got up to go and promptly fell asleep in my lap. Trying to separate myself from them was quite an endeavor, as they would simply change position and fall back asleep again. Well, in the end the owner had to extricate me from them, sad as it was.

We met up with the Madness group that had done the tour the following day to return to La Paz. Up at La Cumbre, it was foggy and rainy. Guess we really had lucked out with the weather after all.

Lake Titicaca and Back

I have fallen behind on reporting back on our weekend trips, so here come a few posts for trips that took place over the past month.

Date of trip: 19-20 September 2009

We were told that Lake Titicaca is a magical place. A place where the energy is simply different. We set out, curious to see what we would find. But first things first: the trip there.

There are many buses and minibuses that leave for Copacabana, the town on the shores of Lake Titicaca, from La Paz. We opted for a somewhat more comfortable and relatively expensive option (well, the roundtrip ticket came out to $18) – the tourist bus. The tourist bus is just as it sounds – a bus that carries tourists to Copacabana. (A very different feel from the regular buses, which take locals and their bundles of belongings and goods. And perhaps we will opt for that option next time.) Most of our co-passengers snoozed all the way to Titicaca, but we were pretty excited about the scenery. The bus left La Paz and climbed up to El Alto. We made our way through the traffic- and market-filled streets, even passing an open-air market for furniture (yes, wardrobes, desks, beauty stands, and the like). El Alto, as you may have read in a previous post is like an anthill – teeming with activity. And only on this trip did I realize how HUGE the city is. It stretches out for kilometers, given that there are no natural barriers. There is just the flat Altiplano that stretches as far as the eye can see. As such, it is mostly a ride on a flat, straight road, with dry fields whizzing past and mountains peeking out over the horizon. Pretty uneventful until we got to the Strait of Tiquina. Here things got interesting. At its narrowest point, the strait is only 850m (2600 ft) wide but there is no bridge. To continue to Copacabana you have to make it across in a boat. What happens to the bus you may ask? Well, it makes it across on a raft. So, we got off the bus and got into a line for the boats to make it across. (As a side note, here Milos made a friend - a little kid who stood behind him and had a distorted understanding of personal space. And we are not talking about the US concept of personal space, which is quite generous. But even according to our concept of personal space, this kid was overstepping all boundaries. At one point, he simply hugged Milos’s leg. I laughed. Milos didn’t find it so funny.) But onto the boats. While we were waiting in line, our bus made it onto a raft and slowly made its way across the strait. Ah, the suspense of watching a big bus bobbing on the waves and not knowing whether it may tip over the next minute, taking with it most of your belongings (we kept our valuables on us, so that gave us some peace of mind). In the end, all ended well. Both the bus and the passengers made it across safely. And why shouldn’t we have? After all, this “trip” is repeated hundreds of times each day. The locals of course were not fazed. That’s when you realize you are slightly jaded in your Western ways. On the other side of the strait sits Bolivia’s navy base. That’s right. The Bolivians are all prepared for the moment they get their access to the sea back. They even have a monument in Tiquina commemorating this hope.

The rest of the ride to Copacabana was pretty uneventful. Copacabana itself is a small place – the “center” is a cross-section of a few streets – and, as we learned, quite dusty. For some reason I had pictured a town on a lake to be overgrown with luscious vegetation. Don’t ask me why I harbored such thoughts. After all, Copacabana is at an altitude of almost 4000 m (12000 ft), at which little vegetation grows, and it is currently the dry season. I guess it was something about the association with water that immediately made me think of green. 

There are a few things to know about Copacabana:

1. The trout (trucha) is excellent – no matter how it’s cooked or where. And, believe me, there is no escaping it. It is sold everywhere.
2. The coffee is terrible. For anyone who might be traveling there: buy yourself mate (herbal tea) instead.
3. For amazing chocolate fondue, visit the restaurant at Hotel La Cupula. You will not regret it.
4. Don’t underestimate the climb up to El Calvario (one of the hills surrounding Copacabana) and a popular hike. It took us a while to get up there. As has become the norm, I was out of breath in 5 minutes. But the views of the lake are incredible. You forget it’s a lake and think of it as an ocean – water stretching as far as the eye can see. We walked up to watch the sunset, but it was overcast. However, we were lucky. Just as we turned around to leave, the sun peeked out from under the clouds, just before setting “behind” the lake. Up there, the energy is different. It’s only you, the cliffs, and the lake. Nature rules.

 We didn’t make it out to the islands this time, which we were told is the most spectacular part about visiting Titicaca, as we didn’t have enough time and didn’t want to rush it. But next time we are definitely going at least to Isla del Sol (Island of the Sun) and maybe even Isla de la Luna (Island of the Moon). After all, Copacabana is only three hours away from La Paz. And then it’s another 1.5-2 hrs to Isla del Sol. Hopefully, before the rainy season starts.
 

Kitchen Surprises

You never know what's going to make you laugh in your kitchen. Example.


via Milos

Surviving El Alto

If Zona Sur is the wealthier, more posh, and warm part of La Paz where most white (i.e., non-indigenous) Bolivians and foreign diplomats live, El Alto is a totally different world altogether. Well, first I guess I should clarify that it is a separate city. Once a part of La Paz, El Alto has grown into the second-largest city in Bolivia (second after Santa Cruz, in the east of the country), mainly through the influx of campesinos (literal translation: peasants, but that is how it is referred to most indigenous people here) from the interiors of the country. It is located on the Altiplano (at approximately 4000 m above sea level), a 20-minute drive from the center of La Paz. I was to go to El Alto to one of our regional offices on the very first day I started work. I had been warned (by white Bolivians, might I add) that it is a hectic and dangerous place, and very cold. So I had my reservations. Also, the HR guy seemed to think that I would know my way around on my second week in La Paz (including to El Alto) because he offered no directions or other helpful information on how to get there. I had to practically pry it out of him. And then the difficulties started. How to direct someone who has never been to El Alto to the regional office there? Hmmm…. In the end, I opted for taking a cab simply because it saved us both much time and effort (he had unsuccessfully been trying to use Google Maps to show me how to get there for about 30 minutes when I decided that that was my threshold). It turned out the cab driver was not very familiar with El Alto either. He radioed in to the taxi dispatch operator and stopped several times to ask for directions. But eventually we got there.


The next day I was to return to the same location. Given that I had taken a minibus back into La Paz (the HR lady from the regional office kindly walked me to the corner where I could catch one), I thought getting back up there would be fairly simple. So, the following day, I hopped on a mini, then on another one and made my way up. Only problem was that once I reached El Alto, the place was a moving maze of minis, cars, and people. Market stalls lined the sidewalks selling everything from food to flowers to stationery. The streets all looked the same – the unfinished adobe architecture of all the buildings made everything blend together. It was hard to find landmarks that were unique. I was told that once the mini got off the highway and reached the next intersection that’s where I should get off. Which most people did, so I followed suit. I then looked around for a familiar landmark, something to orient myself. Yes, that overpass. Wait, there are several. A corner from which minis leave to La Paz. Again, several of those. I started walking in what I thought was the right direction. Nobody seemed to pay much attention to me. I walked a few blocks until I realized that wasn’t the right direction. I had been warned not to ask for directions and not to take cabs up there, because I would immediately stick out as a foreigner and get mugged (or something of the sort). But, as I saw a policeman walking towards me, I thought it couldn’t hurt to ask him for directions. He was super friendly and after a bit of discussion as to my destination (since some streets have names only on paper, but are never actually used by people, which turned out to be the case in my case), he pointed me in the right direction.

I have since been to El Alto several times. It is after all the area from which Pro Mujer started its operations. The first women to take out loans were from El Alto. There is a lot of organizational history and achievement linked to the city. I realized several things on my subsequent visits:
1. El Alto is much bigger than I had expected (even after being told it is huge). It stretches for kilometers, probably because there are no natural barriers to urban development on the Altiplano.
2. Yes, it is hectic but I did not feel in any way unsafe. Of course, pickpocketing and petty theft is common in the more crowded areas, like the big markets, but common sense should be enough to keep anyone out of trouble.
3. El Alto truly is a stronghold for Evo Morales. Slogans voicing their admiration for Evo and his rule adorn building walls. I was told by one of the supervisors at Pro Mujer that you can’t badmouth Evo in front of clients in El Alto because they get really mad at you. Elections are approaching in December although no-one is very interested in following the campaigns leading up to them. It is a foregone conclusion that Evo will secure himself another term. More on these issues in a separate post.
4. One of the best views (if not the best view) of La Paz can be glimpsed from El Alto, from the side of the highway going down to La Paz. It is well worth venturing up there, if only for that.
5. El Alto is apparently an arena for cholita wrestling on the weekends. (Cholita derives from the word cholo, which means of mixed American Indian ancestry. As it is used widely nowadays in Bolivia, cholita refers to women of indigenous descent who wear traditional clothing – large skirts bolstered by many petticoats, multiple top layers, a shawl or blanket which is pinned around the shoulders much like a shawl, and a bowler hat). Yes, I can just imagine what a spectacle that is.

Things I Love and Things I Miss Lately

I am sure both of these lists will keep growing, but for now here are a few things I really love about La Paz:
1. Catching a glimpse of snow-peaked Mt. Illimani on an almost daily basis. Reminds me that I am actually in the Andes, and at a much higher altitude than I have ever been before.
2. Never having to wait longer than 5 minutes for public (or rather, what counts as public) transportation.
3. Getting my shoes shined to perfection on the street for 30 cents (and always having the shoeshine guy ask me, "De donde eres, señorita?"). By the way, I call the shoeshine guys "ninjas" because they wear these face masks that cover everything but their eyes, I'm guessing, in order not to breathe in shoe polish fumes all day. But they do look somewhat scary.
4. The fruits and vegetables are delicious! (and cheap) I have also discovered the strange fruit of chirimoyo (or cherimoya, as I learned it is called in English), which according to Milos tastes like bubble gum. I would disagree, but it is pretty sweet when properly ripe.
5. The multitude of bakeries and the delicious baked goods they sell.
6. Related to the above, I love salteñas - empanada-like pastries filled with beef, chicken or pork, potatoes, peas, mixed with a sweet-spicy sauce.


And a few things I inevitably miss (other than my family and friends):
1. Food from all corners of the world, but especially sushi. They do try hard to make lots of varieties of trout maki and sushi in the few sushi restaurants that exist (there's lots of trout in Lake Titicaca), but it just isn't the same. I miss Wasabi Lobby, our favorite place in New York, and I especially miss unagi.
2. Having things happen at the time that people tell you they will happen. I really think Bolivians are the kings of procrastination - always pushing things off till tomorrow, then the day after, then the following week. Although I can appreciate a more laid-back lifestyle being in limbo for days on end is not that pleasant.
3. Vegetation - there isn't much of it at this altitude and whatever vegetation does exist, is quite dry at this point. We await the rainy season, which supposedly starts in November.
4. Office happy hour culture - it doesn't exist here. At least not in my office. Everyone comes to work, does their job, eats a quick lunch together in the office kitchen, works some more, and goes home. There is not much getting together outside of work, at least as far as I can tell.

Jello and Flavored Milk

Two things that Bolivians really seem to love (thankfully, not mixed together). Today, six out of 10 people at our office lunch table had jello for dessert. Not sure what the obsession with it is. Flavored milk is sold in small plastic packets, which people bring to work, drink on the bus or while walking on the street. Kids especially love that stuff. While attending community association meetings of Pro Mujer clients, I noticed that the flavored milk was often the women's way to keep their kids happy and quiet while they received training, made loan payments, etc..You simply bite off the corner of the plastic packet and drink (not very hygienic, but anyway). Too bad that I am not a big fan of either milk or jello.

Mobile Fingerprinting

Residence permit update.
Our tramitador calls me to tell me that we have to sign some more forms for the police (this time not Interpol). We agree to meet at my office. He shows up and tells me that we need to find some witnesses. I'm confused at first. Turns out, that we need two people to verify that each of us (and no-one else) signed the forms. My colleagues think I am crazy when I tell them what they have to do. But they agree to sign without requesting too many details as to what and why. Simple enough. The tramitador proceeds to take out a number of different forms from his briefcase AND an inkpad.
Me: I guess I'm getting fingerprinted again.
Tramitador: Yes, all 10 fingers.
Me: Again?


He then takes both of our fingerprints. Apparently, Milos's fingers are better "built" for fingerprinting. Who knew? So what we would have had to do at the police station, he did for us at the office instead. Talk about onsite service. I am glad I don't have to make an extra trip to a police station but I still can't believe how things work here.

Interpol Adventures

This morning we visited Interpol. When I hear the word "Interpol", my mind conjures up the image of a powerful, all-knowing, all-penetrating organization with state-of-the-art technology (maybe that comes from watching too much CSI). Well, our experience today, at least at this La Paz branch of Interpol, couldn't be further from that image. We met our tramitador (the guy helping us with our paperwork) outside. As we walked in (no security check of any kind, mind you), we were directed up the stairs to the first floor - the place was kind of dark and the stairs rickety and squeaky. They also use the space under the staircase as storage... so we walked past a collection of old (and probably broken) chairs and tables. After going down a few different corridors, we ended up outside the Interpol office. Inside the Interpol "office" (really, it is one room) there were two policemen. I had to go first. They proceeded to fingerprint me (black ink on all ten fingers). After the fingerprinting, I was given a rag to clean off the ink (the rag was almost black from all the other fingers that it had cleaned prior to mine). Then came the time for questions: father's name, mother's name, address in the U.S., address in Bolivia, husband, children, etc. The guy appeared a little bit confused by my passport and asked me my place of birth (in the passport, it says "Bulgaria").
I answered: "Bulgaria".
Policeman: "Is that a state in the United States?" (since it's a U.S. passport).
I paused for a second.
Me: "No, that's a country in Europe."
Policeman: "Can you give me any other details about your place of birth?"
Me: "City of birth: Sofia. Country of birth: Bulgaria."
Policeman: "What was the name of the city again?"


So, I am not sure what they will be checking or how, but I would have imagined that Interpol's personnel would at least have a decent knowledge of countries. Maybe not know their exact geographic location, but to have heard of them. (Well, actually, he did know about Serbia, so I have to give him that. Funnily enough, Milos hasn't teased me about that yet.)

Welcome to Bolivia (or the hassle of getting a temporary residence permit)

Planning on staying in Bolivia for a period longer than three months? Welcome to the mega-process that is the Bolivian temporary residence application (residencia temporal). Unfortunately, the days when you could stay in the country for 90 days, then cross the border to Peru or Chile and re-enter 24-48 hours later to start a new 90-day stay are over (especially for U.S. citizens; for others, it is also harder and depends mostly on the mood and whim of the immigration official at the border). If you overstay your visa, you are fined $2 per day. In some cases, the cumulative fine may still turn out to be cheaper than getting the residence permit, which altogether costs somewhere between $400 and $500, depending on who helps you with the paperwork (see below). For us though, given that we will be here for 11 months, the fine is not the cheaper option. Thus, here we are, embarking on the mega-process and keeping our fingers crossed. (As a side note, I have heard that the residence process in Bulgaria is also quite nightmarish, which makes me wonder why the countries that hold the least interest for potential immigrants have the most complex immigration procedures?)



The list of documents you will need for the residence permit (if you have come in on a non-tourist visa, Visa de Objeto Determinado) is longer than any list for any bureaucratic process I have experienced so far (including the U.S. green card and naturalization processes) - as you will see below. Anyone who enters as a tourist and later wishes to change his/her status, needs to go through a mini-process preceding this one.

1. Letter from a lawyer requesting the temporary residence (apparently, this letter also has to state that you are a good person; nice reference from someone who barely knows me).
2. Valid passport.
3. Photocopies of the picture and Bolivian visa pages of your passport.
4. Work contract that has been certified by the Ministry of Labor and photocopy of the tax identification number document of the organization.
5. If you don't have a work contract, then present a notarized letter detailing the purpose of your stay and your source of financial support.
6. If you belong to any societies, present a legalized photocopy of a) the founding documents (registered by the Foundation for Business Development), b) the tax identification number document (executed by the National Revenue Service).
7. If you are married to a Bolivian citizen or have children who are Bolivian citizens, present the original marriage and birth certificates. If you were married overseas, present a legalized and authenticated copy of the marriage certificate and its respective translation, if necessary.
8. Criminal record certificate drawn up by the Special Forces in the Fight Against Crime (for those older than 16 years).
9. Criminal record certificate drawn up by INTERPOL (for those older than 16 years) (really, INTERPOL?).
10. Address registration certificate drawn up by the Special Forces in the Fight Against Crime.
11. Medical certificate showing that the applicant is not suffering from any infectious diseases, executed by the Institute for Occupational Health.
12. One photograph, size 4x4 cms on red background (red background?!?)


Note: Additional documents are needed to complete a number of these steps. It's simply a bureaucratic maze - a process within a process, that is almost impossible to decipher. So far, we have gathered (or so we think) all the necessary paperwork to be able to do each of these steps. We also completed Step #11, the medical exam, which was pretty thorough and even included a dental check (?!?!). Hopefully, the results will be to the Bolivian authorities' liking. Tomorrow, we are headed to INTERPOL where we will be fingerprinted and asked all sorts of questions about our past (oooooh). Needless to say, it is nearly impossible to do this without the help of a local who is familiar with the process. The so-called tramitadores are there to guide you and prevent you from getting ripped off, for a fee of course, but it is well worth paying. Their full-time job may be something completely unrelated - ours works for a tourist agency. But, by having gone through the process so many times, they know most of the people behind the counters of the various agencies and can help speed things along. Or so we've heard (and hope!). So, fingers crossed that things go smoothly and we can soon travel in and out of the country without problems, should we want to. As a friend said, "You will have to sacrifice the necessary red tape at midnight." I believe it is about that time.

What's in a Name?

Names are important. They represent your identity. Often, they even determine how people take to you or, apparently, also your success in life (remember Freakonomics?). Well, some Bolivians have taken this apparent relationship very close to heart, purposefully naming their kids with Western (i.e., English) names: William, Walter, Milton, Vivianne are some of the names I have come across so far. I was told that parents (especially those from poorer and less educated backgrounds) really believe that a Western-sounding name (which they equate with a modern name) will make all the difference in their child’s life. Sometimes, however, the search for the Western-sounding name takes on some comical (in the eyes of foreigners) proportions. Meet Usnavy. If you read closely, you will notice that the origin of the name was probably a sign or label that read US Navy. Then we have the successful lawyer, Walker. Apparently, his brother’s name is Johnnie. Last week, I met Pool – his name is simply a transliteration of Paul. That’s how they heard it; that’s how they spelled it. And, of course, every now and then we meet an action hero – in this case, Macguyver.

Transportation Options in La Paz

Although at first glance the traffic appears overwhelming and the transportation options confusing, navigating them once you have a sense for how things work is quite easy. Getting around the city actually couldn’t be easier. Not counting private cars, there are four main transportation options:
1. Micros – These are buses that are about half or three-quarters the size of a regular bus (hence the name). The smaller size makes it easier to navigate the narrow and winding streets in La Paz. They are the cheapest means of transportation, although also the slowest and least frequent.

2. Minis – These are mini-buses (the equivalent of the Bulgarian marshrutka) that criss-cross the city along set routes. They are the most abundant vehicles in the streets, zig-zagging from lane to lane, competing for passengers. Sometimes, all you see are columns and columns of mini-buses; the sight almost makes me forget that regular cars exist. Unlike the ones in Bulgaria, these minis are so frequent that you never have to wait longer than a minute or two during the day before one headed on your route comes along. Getting a ride on a mini costs between 1 Boliviano (Bs) and 2.30 Bs, depending on the distance and the time of day. (1 USD = approx. 7 Bs) Each mini’s driver has a sidekick to help him collect fares and also to attract passengers. They lean out of the mini’s window and shout out main stops along the route at a speed that would put any one of those readers of the small print in medicine commercials on US television to shame. They even manage to name the current fare somewhere in the avalanche of words.

3. TRUFIs – The acronym stands for Taxi de Ruta Fija (set route taxi). As the name suggests, these are basically taxis that follow set routes. They are almost as frequent as minis and faster because they make fewer stops to pick up passengers, although slightly more expensive (the fare is 3 Bs). The only thing to watch out for with TRUFIs is sitting in front, next to the driver, because that seat is meant for two people, so you might end up squished uncomfortably next to the stick shift.

4. Taxis – Taxis are abundant and although they are the most expensive relative to the other transportation options, they are still pretty cheap. (For example, getting from the Zona Sur to the centre costs between 12 and 15 Bs, around $2.) We’ve been warned not to flag taxis down on the street at night; calling a radio taxi is the best and safest way to go.

A Beginning in Bolivia (Part II)

First-week learnings continued:

There is no such thing as too many cables.

One of the first things you notice is how many cables hang above the sidewalks. The city is literally wired with bundles and bundles of cables. It almost makes you feel like each household and office has its own individual electricity cable. And they just keep stringing them up. I guess, I never thought how many cables might be hidden underground in other countries.

Although the view of Mount Illimani (6439 m) is spectacular, you don’t necessarily want an apartment with that view.

Illimani is one of the looming giants of the Cordillera Real and it is a prime sight from the higher areas of La Paz. However, as we learned, north is the best direction to face (yes, now that we are in the southern hemisphere), because that way your apartment gets the most sun (and, trust me, an apartment with no sun exposure feels like a cave). Sadly, Illimani lies to the south-east.

La Paz is much better lit and cleaner than Sofia.

I guess Sofia is not a hard benchmark to beat in this respect, but I was still quite surprised to see the whole city illuminated by hundreds of lights, even the poorer or more remote areas. (Abundance of natural gas could be the answer.) And I am yet to see trash in the streets.