officially chilena...?

I interrupt this long drawn out saga of my trip to Bolivia with the quick story of how I became Chilean. Otherwise known as being assaulted--it's pretty normal here...kinda like in St. Louis. Hah. But really. Okay, let me set the scene for you.

Characters:
Me--looking particularly gringa with my cute jacket, scarf, and chalas (flip-flops).
José Miguel--skinny and wearing plaid...slightly hipster aka not threatening at all.

Scene: On a park bench in a large median downtown that separates two main streets of Central Santiago which is like a long park complete with trees, statues, and said park bench. This median is located in-between the metro stops Los Heroes (the stop for my University) and La Moneda (the Chilean White House). I had my purse with my cell phone, my new camera, and my wallet which had my credit card, my fresh-off-the-press pase escolar (a pass that lets me ride the metro for 1/4th of the cost), $4, and lunch tickets (worth $5 each...i had a months worth).

José Miguel and I had been sitting in the park for a few hours and failed to take into account the fact that all of the people had cleared out and it had gotten rather dark as it was now about 11:00pm.

Enter 4 tipos (unknown guys).

It seemed like they came out of nowhere. They surrounded us and in lowered voices ordered us forcefully to give them our cell phones. José Miguel began by trying to calmly talk them out of it. Yeah, that was a fail. Two guys started feeling up José Miguel and two were focused on me. One of them was standing directly in front of me and the other had sat down on the bench beside me. It was like the typical good cop, bad cop thing. Only this time, they were delinquents. After I handed over my phone, the guy in front of me grabbed my purse, leaving it hanging around my neck, and started feeling it.

"She has more money, she has more money," he spit angrily.

I was just super worried that they would find my camera that I'd had for a total of two weeks. You know, or that they'd pull out a knife.

Good cop saved the day, though, by insisting that I could show them on my own if I had any more money. He then turned to me and tried to calm me down, as i was obviously a bit nervous--shaking and blubbering whatever i could remember in spanish.

"Calmly, calmly. We don't want any problems. Just show us what you have. Calm down."

I took out my wallet and as I did so my keys fell out of my purse. I begged them not to take my keys and they gave them back to me. I then immediately handed over the 2 mil ($4) that i had in my wallet. Bad cop was still not happy. (That's what you get for robbing poor people, saco e weas.) So i showed them everything in my wallet. All of the cards that I have in there and even shook it to show that there weren't any coins inside. When i did that, an argentinian coin fell out, so to show them i meant business, i offered them the coin as well. They didn't want it.

After essentially giving José Miguel a rub down, they finally found his cell phone in his pocket and were satisfied that they had found everything of value that we had. They then ran across the park, crossed the street, and hopped on the bus. I was left stunned and we sat for a few seconds in silence. I was literally shaking still and my heart was pounding. Then José Miguel hopped up and told me to follow him. Evidently we were going to try and catch them...

We ran to the group of taxi drivers that were hanging out in the park and asked if one of them would help us try and catch the bus full of robbers that had just left. Surprisingly, one of them told us to hop in and we took off. Once inside the car, we realized that we didn't have a cell phone to call the police anyway so it wouldn't matter. I was over it and wanted to go home, but I think José Miguel's macho pride was hurting a bit. So...we kept following the bus until we saw a police car going the opposite way. José Miguel ran over to them and when he came back he said that they were going to turn around and come help us. We thanked the taxista profusely to make up for our lack of money and then we waited. On the side of the street. In the place where we were just robbed. The policemen never came and I was sooooo ready to go home, but I was not about to leave José Miguel. Admittedly, he hadn't been much help, but I still felt more safe walking with him than alone.

We saw another police car and walked over to it. And then I felt ridiculous. There was a guy laying on the ground bleeding from his mouth. That's what happens when you don't hand over whatever they ask you for. We got lucky.

We were robbed by probably the worst robbers ever--they didn't get the most expensive thing on me (my camera) and most of them were about as nervous as I was, which makes them even scarier because you never know what they will do. Before this incident, I had always thought about how I would handle myself in this kind of a situation. Weirdly, I was always a lot more put together and tough in my daydreams.

I have never been particularly scared of going out around the city by myself or anywhere for that matter. I think that if you avoid doing things because you are scared, you are not living, so I live and figure that if something happens, at least i enjoyed my time here. (had to tell myself this a few times on buses in bolivia) Unfortunately, after being robbed by these men, I am completely changed. I am markedly more nervous when going out at night and always consider getting robbed a real possibility. I don't let this stop me from going out, but I notice the difference in myself and it saddens me. For the first week after getting robbed I was even more careful during the day--I looked at the people around me as potential robbers, only left the house with what I absolutely needed, and kept my pase escolar and any money i had hidden in my back pocket. Now, three weeks later, I feel much more comfortable, but I do get nervous when in a bad part of town which wouldn't have happened before the robbery.

But at least now I can call myself chilean...because you aren't chilean until you've gotten asaulted in santiago.

arriving in la paz...por fin (bolivia pt. 2)

Day 4 (continued). At this point in my altitude sickness I wasn't able to think in English...let alone in Spanish. I left Juan Pablo and Soledad to find a new bus to take us to La Paz. We found one and were soon on our way, once again, to La Paz. I will spare you the details of this horrible bus ride, but I will tell you that my first view of the beautiful La Paz was from the bathroom window of the bus.

Let me quickly explain La Paz to the three of you that read this. La Paz, the highest capital in the world, is located in the the valley of a bunch of mountains and is separated into two cities--El Alto y El Bajo. They are called this because one is literally located in the valley with the buildings spreading quite artistically to cover the sides of the mountains surrounding it (El Bajo) while the other part of the city overlooks all of this from higher up on a mountain (El Alto). The view of El Bajo from El Alto is literally one of the most breathtaking views I have ever seen. The houses and buildings are almost all brick and are stacked precariously all over the mountainsides. At night the lights of the city look like a fallen christmas tree because of how the buildings are spread out to the different mountains from the center valley. I spent most of my time in El Bajo, though I did go to El Alto a time or two to demand a refund from the bus company or at very least my blanket (i never got anything. let's not get started on the incompetency of bolivian bus companies).
I stole this pic from Juan Pablo...it doesn't begin to portray the real beauty of La Paz. Also, it is taken from El Bajo, so it is not a good representation of the awesome view from El Alto that I described, but it'll do. All I had was a disposable camera, so my pics aren't the best either.

Though I had so much bad luck with the bus, I was really so lucky to have become friends with Juan Pablo, because his dad is a policeman in La Paz and was able to get ahold of the bus company so that they would leave our luggage at the bus terminal (which is really a busy street lined with a bunch of bus companies). Also, Sole and I didn't have to find cabs or hostels. We hopped into a car with Juan Pablo and his family right when we got to the terminal and after driving to find our luggage, we went straight to their apartment. I was still really sick. I literally threw up/dry heaved out the window of the car of this family that I just met...SO humiliating (sorry for the gross details...i had to live it). Also, I didn't talk at all in the car ride to the apartment (i was concentrating on not being sick), so I'm absolutely sure that they thought I was this poor little gringa who couldn't speak or understand Spanish and somehow ended up in Bolivia alone.

Once we got to the house, I drank mate de coca and chewed a wad of coca leaves until I felt a lot better. I then slept until later in the night when we went out on the town (I wasn't about to let altitude sickness keep me from experiencing my first night in Bolivia). Juan Pablo showed Sole and I the night life of La Paz and it was radiant. We ate vacios which is basically meat. In Bolivia, instead of buying your own drink, it is very common to see tables sharing small pitchers of a mixed drink each with their own tiny glass. Also, many of the drinks had coca leaves floating in them instead of mint, etc. (see what i said about it being a normal part of their culture?) The only complaint I have about the night life was the music selection. Two reasons: 1. 70% of the music was in English...ugh. 2. They played a song with a refrain where everyone shouts "GRIN-GO GO HOME" and Juan Pablo sang along to it a bit too animatedly. jaja! But really, I was super glad that I was with Juan Pablo and that he showed us these different places. It was so much fun and we didn't get home until 6:30 the next morning! (not too ridiculously late for South America, i am finding, but still, considering my state earlier that day, I feel rather proud of myself.)
Stole this one from Juan Pablo as well...


Day 5. (3600 m) Juan Pablo showed Sole and I El Mercado de las Brujas (The Witches' Market). I think this is when I officially fell in love with La Paz. This market is located in the center near the cathedral and it is filled with artesania crafts and clothing and hippies selling jewelry on the side of the street. You can find all of those things in any part of Bolivia, but this is a bit different because here they also sell things for witchcraft and ancient indigenous rituals. For example, in El Mercado de las Brujas you can find dust to make someone fall in love with you, amulets to bring good luck, little packages of candy and toys to burn (for the gods i assume), and so much more. They even sell dried baby llamas...or llama fetuses if you prefer. I was going to buy one for reggie, but i couldn't bring myself to touch them...and thinking about putting one in my suitcase gave me the willies. They also sell pieces of a cactus that is well known to be used as a hallucinogen...on the street...in plain view. oh bolivia.

Soledad and I also went to a market called Las Alasitas which is only in La Paz once a year. It is filled with tons of miniature things. They sold miniature bookstores, restaurants, car repair shops, important documents (ids), foreign money, etc. They also had (this i found odd) everything that you could ever need to build a house in miniature--shovels, bags of cement, lumber, wheelbarrows, etc. While here, Sole and I decided that we should try a food that was truly from La Paz. Thus we sat down at a restaurant and ordered El Plato Paceño. We ended up with meat, habas huge lima beans still in the pod, mote monstrously huge corn on the cob, and fried, extremely salty cheese all piled on top of each other. It was quite an experience trying to eat this without making a mess, but we did our best.

Day 6. (3850 m) Sole and I said our goodbyes and caught a bus to Copacabana which is close to the border of Bolivia and Peru and on the lake that both countries share Lago Titicaca. I had made sure to ask Juan Pablo if there would be an atm in Copacabana and he was sure that there would be, so i didn't withdraw money in La Paz. Of course...Copacabana has ONE atm and it is only for Bolivians. This was a serious problem, because I had very little money left. Sole generously offered to pool our money together until we returned to La Paz, but that still meant that we only had 150 bolivianos, roughly $21, which had to last us for two days of food, lodging, and sightseeing.

They were still celebrating Canaval which was interesting to witness. There were two different bands playing in the town square at the same time and all of the people dressed up in their colorful outfits were dancing, drinking, and spraying silly string and water at each other until 6 in the morning at least. It was kinda bizarre. Though all of this was going on in the town center, the rest of the town was rather quiet. We ended up running into some "hippies" and they invited us to come along with them and listen to them play music in a cafe. We went along and the small group quickly turned into a street full of about 20 people playing guitar, singing, and dancing. I loved it. Though...I was a bit of an outsider because I knew absolutely none of the songs. We got kicked out of the street because we were making too much noise, so we all moved to a small bar and I ended up dancing with a Peruvian who actually taught me to dance instead of simply telling me to follow him. He was so good at leading and making the steps clear that, for once, I actually felt like I could dance!

Day 7. The next morning, we packed our breakfast/lunch/dinner (trying to save money) and got on a boat at 8am so that we could go to La Isla del Sol (which ended up living up to its name). 3 1/2 hours later we landed on the shore of a tiny island with about 7 houses and 2 shops. Sole and I didn't have enough money to go to the ruins so we explored for a bit and climbed a rock hill (for lack of better term). This is the view from the top of the hill which a woman walked up very easily with her goats...not sure how. There was also a small waterfall there. After our climb, Sole and I went to the beach. My first time on a warm beach since I've been down here. The beach was covered with tents of people that had stayed there over night. We enjoyed sun bathing while hogs walked past and little local kids played in the lake (which seemed like an ocean it was so big) speaking Aymara, the local indigenous language. I actually learned one word from one of the kids there...Guniyamastasa = Hola.

We were enjoying ourselves so much that we decided that we wanted to stay and not use the round trip tickets that we had bought to go back to Copacabana. We sold our tickets to some guys on the beach and bought a bed to share in a hostel for $2. We stayed in the sun for about 2 hours and I got the WORST sunburn of my life. I didn't think about the fact that being 3850m in altitude means that you are that much closer to the sun. Seriously felt like I might die that night because I had such a bad fever and was so dehydrated. I gave up my worries about drinking the water in Bolivia and filled my water bottle from a spigot in the hostel because we didn't have enough money left to buy bottled water. The wonderful time we were planning on having on the island quickly turned to a day of sleeping, as Sole had also gotten a sunburn.

Day 8. This was a day of traveling-- back to Copacabana and then back to La Paz where Soledad and I eventually had to separate. I was/am obsessed with La Paz and had decided to stay for another day to explore it a bit more but Sole moved on to another town in Bolivia.

Day 9. I ate lunch with Juan Pablo and his family, went to a mirador and simply took in as much of the beautiful city as I could.
This does not in any way capture the beauty of La Paz...but it gives you an idea.

I made sure to go to the parts of the city that I had most wanted to see. I went to the national art museum and plaza murillo, which is where the president is. Plaza Murillo was a wonderful experience because it is filled with pigeons. They sell birdfeed in the square and there are tons of people feeding the birds...it is a wonder they can still fly with how much food they are given. I of course had to take part in this and ended up being covered in birds. At times I had three or four birds sitting on my arms eating out of my palm and more on my shoulders, not to mention the flock of pigeons surrounding my feet. I enjoyed myself.

That night I felt slightly more ready to leave La Paz than I had been before, so I bought a ticket to Cochabamba. I was all set to continue my Bolivian adventures...and then I realized that I didn't have my debit card anymore. Of course this had been the day that I had bought everyone in my family something from El Mercado de las Brujas and I had bought myself a few things as well, so I literally had 35 bolivianos ($5) left. That's all. Needless to say, I didn't go to Cochabamba. They refunded me half of the ticket price so that I was left with a whopping $7 in total. And then I went back to beg for mercy at Juan Pablo's door.

They of course took me in and let me stay there for a few more days. I seriously don't know what I would have done without Juan Pablo and his family. I felt bad, because it is not like they have a guest room. I offered to sleep on the couch...I have slept in worse places when staying in hostels and i pay for those...but they wouldn't let me. Instead Juan Pablo gave me his room and he shared with his mom. Speaking of...his mom was a beautiful person. The whole time I was there she acted like a mother to me. She fed me and worried about me and when it was finally time for me to leave (meaning when I had received money from my dad so that I could continue on my trip) she actually cried. It was surprising but super cute.

Day 10-13. I was stuck in La Paz until I received money from my dad, so I looked at it as a chance to get to know the city a bit more. I have always wanted to live in Latin America and La Paz quickly jumped to the top of my list of possible cities to live in. It has that Latin American vibe that I have been missing from Chile. The majority of the population is indigenous and it is very obvious as there are people in their traditional garb everywhere you look. Women walk around with their cute little bowler hats and their babies hanging off of their backs in rainbow colored material.

I loved the chaos. The streets are absolutely crazy and jam packed with buses and cars. I, personally, could not see any sign of driving rules other than honk as often as possible. There were no lanes really, but people changed non-lanes whenever they wanted and without any sign that they were going to do so. It was like a video game. Sole described the people inside the bus like a tetris game because the buses are like vans with 3 rows of seats behind the driver. The person collecting the money sits by the door and yells out the places that the bus will take you and opens the door for you. Meanwhile, if someone in the back wants to get out everyone has to quickly file out and then fill back in once they are out. It is quite an experience. Also, I really wish I had taken a picture of this, they have people dressed up as zebras to help pedestrians cross the road (it is a play on words of crosswalk in spanish). I never really understood whether this was because people cross whenever they want or because the cars just don't ever stop...both are very likely possibilities...nevertheless, super extraño (strange). jaja! oh bolivia.

Something that I noticed right away in Bolivia is that they are culturally polite. Most Bolivians when getting in a taxi or a bus with other people will always say "buen día" (good day). Also, when leaving a restaurant, multiple times people, as they passed my table, said "buen provecho" (enjoy your meal) even though I had never spoken to them before in my life. It was really nice.

Another thing that I really liked about Bolivia is that if you buy a glass bottle (coke, fanta, juice, etc.) you have to drink it at the stand because they have to return the bottles to be recycled. Beautiful. Also, an observation...people don't eat while they are walking. There are tons of food stands along the streets, but people that buy from there always eat standing in front of or near the stand. The same goes for juice stands. They peel the fruit and make the juice in front of you, but you have to drink it there because they serve it in actual glasses which they wash and reuse after you leave. It was interesting.

Then I woke up to hear about the Earthquake in Chile. Horrible. Reading the updates online and watching the news with Juan Pablo and his sister, I was horrified. Over the next few days the death count just kept going up and up. I felt so loved from all of the messages I received on fb, though I had not even felt a tremble, and I quickly found out that my Chilean family was fine, but at the same time, I was just ready to go back to Santiago. I felt guilty enjoying myself in Bolivia while Chile was in crisis. I decided to hit some of the towns on my list while making my way back to Santiago (I had payed $135 to enter Bolivia...I wanted to get my money's worth).

My next stop? Potosí. But that will have to wait for the next post...