August 28/2011

To La Paz

We hung around Cusco for a week after the girls left. Deb had slipped the second day on the trek pulling something and after a week of hyper activity the break was needed. We had to wait a few days because of protests blocking the road into La Paz by Ayrama Indians at Alto. Evo Morales might be the first indigenous leader elected president in the Americas but he is certainly feeling the heat from the kitchen with street protesting a way of life in Bolivia. We finally shipped out on the recommended bus to La Paz which turned out to be an old wreck. Rubbing insult into injury was a competing Nuev Contintenal, a brand new Marco Polo cama bus which ran with us all the way. Oh well luck of the draw. The window bled cold along with an incessive rattle which I finally jammed into silence. A heavy blanket was issued to each passenger and we huddled up looking for some nocturnal bliss. For me an Ipod with the Thievery Corp catalog finally did the trick. Arriving at 7 am the next morning we pulled into Desaguadero, where the bus pulled into a riot of a traffic jam and just parked.
We noticed everybody getting off and headed into a mob. Trying to straighten out my knees which had twisted into prize looking bonsai we headed a quarter mile through a bustling scene of border vendor market chaos finally finding a line of a couple hundred strong and all stamping their feet to keep warm. The line moved quickly and we checked out of Peru, Deb hit one of the dozens of money changers to pick up some bolivanios and then we casually strolled over a bridge and walked into Bolivia. No one challenged us and in fact I had to ask where we should go to stamp in. Deb got 90 days and I got 30. Guess I didn´t wink fast enough. When we left the office the bus was miraculously waiting, so all aboard, then moved two whole blocks and then a thirty minute wait while the road was graded (all dirt) and then a few blocks later on to a paved road. Now this one of several things that didn´t add up. You would have thought the paved road would lead to the border. No the border was like a small town that had been bypassed by the highway. But this was only the beginning because walking across the border I could have smuggled any type of contraband we wanted on to the bus. Then between the border and La Paz maybe a three hour drive we were boarded three times by armed soldiers on the make. First a papers please check, then the second time just an eyeballing perusal of everybody but the third time was in Alto that unplanned sprawl of a city that crowds the rim overlooking La Paz and considered the Ayrama Indian capital. Here two policemen got on and started hasselling two Indians over something at the back of the bus. Then a young what I took to be a student had words with them. Next thing I know he is pulling out a Cannon Rebel camera and starts shooting pictures of them. He basically chased them off the bus with the camera. I have to say I was impressed with his command of the situation but we were about to learn Bolivans have had enough abuse and are not afraid to stand up for themselves and have a habit of taking to the streets. Fittingly I couldn´t help but notice a big statue of CHE made of wire as the bus left the Alto and started down the Toll road into La Paz.

To be continued....