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.