Saturday, January 23, 2010
The Farm
Tomorrow I am off to the relaxing farm gig I have worked out. Some longer-term and far cheaper peace and quiet away from the city life I live most of the time and have been visiting. The owners seem very friendly, and we will see what the first encounter brings, but I have tranquility on the mind, and lots of sweat to come yet.
Brasil!
Well, its been a few days, but after narrowly missing another $500 flight-credit bump, I arrived in Rio.
The streets smell of a bizarre concotion of flowers, warm wet tropical air, some strange scents of vague foodstuffs and meats, and the subtlty of a guava. Its hard to describe, but it is unforgettable.
Rio is certainly a more modern city than any Ive yet seen in South America, with bustling shoreline skyscrapers and modern supermarkets and storefronts, a far cry from the ragtag copious amounts of street vendors clamoring for your attention in La Paz, and to a lesser degree, Peru. Walking down the streets of Copacabana, you are in a first-world country, and the money reeks everywhere.
Life here is far too expensive for me to stay long, a room in a hostel bunkbed with 6 others costs about $20 US a night, much more than the $4-5 in Lima and Cuzco, and the $2-3 in Bolivia. Needless to say, I wont be here much longer...for now.
Strolling the beaches of Ipanema, you can suckle the tender kisses of a fresh coconut, hacked open with a machete with a straw inside. You can attack the waves, the warm water will tease your senses and the surf will toss you around playfully, but rigorously. It is certain, you could easily fall in love with this place, until the ticking reminders of your wallet come back to the forefront of your consciousness.
Palm trees and sharp cliffy mountains are the scenery, Samba and funk is the soundtrack, and the food is barbecue and fresh juice, a recipe for well-being in a city that swallows you up into the warm tropic belly of a dangerous beast.
The streets smell of a bizarre concotion of flowers, warm wet tropical air, some strange scents of vague foodstuffs and meats, and the subtlty of a guava. Its hard to describe, but it is unforgettable.
Rio is certainly a more modern city than any Ive yet seen in South America, with bustling shoreline skyscrapers and modern supermarkets and storefronts, a far cry from the ragtag copious amounts of street vendors clamoring for your attention in La Paz, and to a lesser degree, Peru. Walking down the streets of Copacabana, you are in a first-world country, and the money reeks everywhere.
Life here is far too expensive for me to stay long, a room in a hostel bunkbed with 6 others costs about $20 US a night, much more than the $4-5 in Lima and Cuzco, and the $2-3 in Bolivia. Needless to say, I wont be here much longer...for now.
Strolling the beaches of Ipanema, you can suckle the tender kisses of a fresh coconut, hacked open with a machete with a straw inside. You can attack the waves, the warm water will tease your senses and the surf will toss you around playfully, but rigorously. It is certain, you could easily fall in love with this place, until the ticking reminders of your wallet come back to the forefront of your consciousness.
Palm trees and sharp cliffy mountains are the scenery, Samba and funk is the soundtrack, and the food is barbecue and fresh juice, a recipe for well-being in a city that swallows you up into the warm tropic belly of a dangerous beast.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Barranco, Lima
Barranco, Lima, is the artsy not quite as elaborate version of Miraflores. The buildings resonate different colors, orange, pink, blue, green, and the streets are quaint but clean.
Where Miraflores is opulence and condos, Barranco is cute and colorful. Perfect!
The beach in Lima is the whackest shit Ive ever seen. Small, next to a highway, and very unimpressive. Luckily, tomorrow I fly to the best beaches in the world...Rio de Janeiro!! Its going to be beyond all dreams...
Now Im on my way to Chinatown, Lima to see how they do, then some great ceviche and a cerveza.
Where Miraflores is opulence and condos, Barranco is cute and colorful. Perfect!
The beach in Lima is the whackest shit Ive ever seen. Small, next to a highway, and very unimpressive. Luckily, tomorrow I fly to the best beaches in the world...Rio de Janeiro!! Its going to be beyond all dreams...
Now Im on my way to Chinatown, Lima to see how they do, then some great ceviche and a cerveza.
Rosario
Rosario was an incredible guy. A typical looking family man who was more of a genie, really.
We walked down the train tracks to Aguas Calientes, and he was like, go ahead, Ill catch up with you all. We walked and walked, and partway through he just walked past us, and was waiting for us at the end when we got there. We told him we were going to leave at 4am, and to meet us at the main square in Aguas Calientes. In the morning, about 430 am and we couldnt find him in the square, so we started to hike up the massive staircase to Machu Picchu. It was quite dark, but somewhere along the walk he appeared and casually fell in stride with us, and nobody saw where he came from.
Once at the top, he announced he couldnt get in because he didnt have his papers. We were sad, but told him we would catch back up with him on the way back. We then went in and walked towards Wayanu Picchu, our group in the first 400 of the day.
Then, walking through Machu Picchu, Rosalio magically appeared. He claimed, I had a friend. Haha, what a gangster.
But he said he couldnt go up Wayanu Picchu, he was too late to get through. We sighed, but we´d meet him back at Machu Picchu.
We started walking, and he once again walked out of a bush to join us. Another friend, I guess. Peruvians take care of their own.
We explored MP and everything, and then stayed the night. The next day, Rosario was already waiting at the car for us, and we drove all the way to Cusco. Perfect!
We walked down the train tracks to Aguas Calientes, and he was like, go ahead, Ill catch up with you all. We walked and walked, and partway through he just walked past us, and was waiting for us at the end when we got there. We told him we were going to leave at 4am, and to meet us at the main square in Aguas Calientes. In the morning, about 430 am and we couldnt find him in the square, so we started to hike up the massive staircase to Machu Picchu. It was quite dark, but somewhere along the walk he appeared and casually fell in stride with us, and nobody saw where he came from.
Once at the top, he announced he couldnt get in because he didnt have his papers. We were sad, but told him we would catch back up with him on the way back. We then went in and walked towards Wayanu Picchu, our group in the first 400 of the day.
Then, walking through Machu Picchu, Rosalio magically appeared. He claimed, I had a friend. Haha, what a gangster.
But he said he couldnt go up Wayanu Picchu, he was too late to get through. We sighed, but we´d meet him back at Machu Picchu.
We started walking, and he once again walked out of a bush to join us. Another friend, I guess. Peruvians take care of their own.
We explored MP and everything, and then stayed the night. The next day, Rosario was already waiting at the car for us, and we drove all the way to Cusco. Perfect!
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Cusco and the Sacred Valley
I stayed in Cuzco for one quick night, the headed out on a whim with far too little clothing for Machu Picchu. One night was an ordeal, staying in Ollantaytambo, but I found a group of 9 Brazilian guys, and we all banded together (they were two groups of 5 and 4), and saw the amazing ruins there. We were trying to make it to Aguas Calientes, the town right by Machu Picchu, that night, but the transport is purposefully difficult unless you want to bank out.
The next day we commissioned a driver to take us, Rosario, all the way there, the 6 hours bumpy, windy mountain drive. We staayed in Aguas CAlientes, the most overpriced, foul city in Peru.
The next morning we marched up the hundreds of steps for an hour to get up to the city, and were in of the first 400 to get there, so we could climb wayana picchu, the mountain overlooking M.P. That took another hour of climbing, then an hour back tdown and to a cave and more ruins (not MP), then another hour to MP, and finaly after four hours of climbing and hiking we could explore the mystical ´lost ´ city. It was beyond all expectations, and awe inspiring.
They import llamas for asthetic value. They werent there when we first arrived, but later in the afternoon, there were about a dozen llamas. Hilarious...
Now I am in Cusco again, saw some more ruins, cool places, and am off to Lima on the 24 hour bus...YAY! haha what a long trip. Oh well...
The next day we commissioned a driver to take us, Rosario, all the way there, the 6 hours bumpy, windy mountain drive. We staayed in Aguas CAlientes, the most overpriced, foul city in Peru.
The next morning we marched up the hundreds of steps for an hour to get up to the city, and were in of the first 400 to get there, so we could climb wayana picchu, the mountain overlooking M.P. That took another hour of climbing, then an hour back tdown and to a cave and more ruins (not MP), then another hour to MP, and finaly after four hours of climbing and hiking we could explore the mystical ´lost ´ city. It was beyond all expectations, and awe inspiring.
They import llamas for asthetic value. They werent there when we first arrived, but later in the afternoon, there were about a dozen llamas. Hilarious...
Now I am in Cusco again, saw some more ruins, cool places, and am off to Lima on the 24 hour bus...YAY! haha what a long trip. Oh well...
Monday, January 11, 2010
Cuzco
Well, after some sad goodbyes to all my wonderfully newfound family, I head off to Cuzco, the seat of the Inca empire. Needless to say it will be a huge adventure, the first time Ive been on my own this trip. I have a while to enjoy Peru then I´m out to Rio. My family warns me repeatedly that Peruvians are liars, and will drug me so don´t take any food or drink from any ´friends´ I might meet. I sort of go along with it, thinking across the border they probably say the same shit about Bolivians. But they have a point, a bunch of Peruvians do come to Bolivia to commit crimes. Why, I´m not sure, as its cheaper in Bolivia, but who knows. Anyway I bet most of the hate is just racism...or anti-Peruvianism since theyre all Andinos. But nonetheless I take it carefully.
A long bus ride, 12-13hours, then dumped into the middle of downtown Cuzco. I had no soles or money of any kind for that matter, no hostel, and no friends, and it was after dark. Not so bueno. Anyway, I latched onto a veritable horde of Argentinians and followed some Peruvian lady to her hostel. There were no rooms, even though she was trying to get us there.
After some standing around, the Argentinians split three different ways, I kind of drift with three of the girls. They decide to share a matrimonial bed. I stash my bags there and look for another room somewhere else. Its pouring rain. I go to an ATM. Card not recognized. Shit. Will I not be able to get money out in Peru? This could be a huge problem. Where will I sleep?
Another ATM. This time it works. Sweet. I find a room. Also sweet. I grab some saltado de pollo, a wonderful mixture of french fries, tomatoes, onions, pollo, and all manner of juicy spices mixed up together with a kind of sauce. Too delicious. Peru is looking sweeter now...
Now its bedtime in Cuzco...
A long bus ride, 12-13hours, then dumped into the middle of downtown Cuzco. I had no soles or money of any kind for that matter, no hostel, and no friends, and it was after dark. Not so bueno. Anyway, I latched onto a veritable horde of Argentinians and followed some Peruvian lady to her hostel. There were no rooms, even though she was trying to get us there.
After some standing around, the Argentinians split three different ways, I kind of drift with three of the girls. They decide to share a matrimonial bed. I stash my bags there and look for another room somewhere else. Its pouring rain. I go to an ATM. Card not recognized. Shit. Will I not be able to get money out in Peru? This could be a huge problem. Where will I sleep?
Another ATM. This time it works. Sweet. I find a room. Also sweet. I grab some saltado de pollo, a wonderful mixture of french fries, tomatoes, onions, pollo, and all manner of juicy spices mixed up together with a kind of sauce. Too delicious. Peru is looking sweeter now...
Now its bedtime in Cuzco...
Thursday, January 7, 2010
Adios Papa!
Today I went to the airport to send off my dad. He has been here five weeks, but it has passed like the wind for him. Anyway, the airport is always a weird place, especially after the ravaging practicality of La Paz. There is no exhuberance, no unnecessary garnishes or flourishes of luxury. Everything exists for its strictly utilitarian purpose. And why not?
At the airport, though, one thing astonished me the most. Where the hell did all these white people come from? The brown brown of the city, and the white white of the airport. I have a hypothesis. White people possess a separate sense like the seventh, a fourth eye if you will (the sixth is too psychic and mystical, the third the same...they tend to skip these). They can smell the money. Wherever there is copious amounts of spending to be done, white folk come out of the woodwork to make it happen. Who will buy this 70$ filet mignon? Do not fret good sir, they will be here soon enough. Its almost like they apparate, they congeal from an ethereal mist. Its quite eerie, actually, if you see it happen. But they camoflauge it well, you won´t notice if you aren´t looking for it.
At the airport, though, one thing astonished me the most. Where the hell did all these white people come from? The brown brown of the city, and the white white of the airport. I have a hypothesis. White people possess a separate sense like the seventh, a fourth eye if you will (the sixth is too psychic and mystical, the third the same...they tend to skip these). They can smell the money. Wherever there is copious amounts of spending to be done, white folk come out of the woodwork to make it happen. Who will buy this 70$ filet mignon? Do not fret good sir, they will be here soon enough. Its almost like they apparate, they congeal from an ethereal mist. Its quite eerie, actually, if you see it happen. But they camoflauge it well, you won´t notice if you aren´t looking for it.
Abuela Luisa
My Grandmother is a fabulous woman. Regal, and ancient. She is a chola, dresses in the traditional style, with multiple colorful pleated skirts, layered, a shawl and a bowler hat to top it off. Two long braids down the back, tied together to prevent them from getting in the way with a string with two miniature pompoms, like on the ends of llama hats. Haha, you know the ones.
Her wrinkles wink at you, her age is nonexistant, but her wisom speaks nonverbally through her eyes. A sage.
Despite her great age, she comes on our adventures too sometimes, and everyday she climbs the four floors up and down to the apartment in the family house where she and Abuelo live, at the top, the penthouse if you will, with a patio and a magnificant view of La Paz from the hills of Achachachicala, a place with far too many c´s and a´s in its name. She, like other cholas, carries great burdens on her back wrapped in vibrantly colored textiles, reds and oranges, sun colors predominate. You never really know entirely all shes got in there. Probably some crazy stuff. Fairy powders, rabbits feet. Who knows?
And she always wants to feed me. What could be a better abuela?
Her wrinkles wink at you, her age is nonexistant, but her wisom speaks nonverbally through her eyes. A sage.
Despite her great age, she comes on our adventures too sometimes, and everyday she climbs the four floors up and down to the apartment in the family house where she and Abuelo live, at the top, the penthouse if you will, with a patio and a magnificant view of La Paz from the hills of Achachachicala, a place with far too many c´s and a´s in its name. She, like other cholas, carries great burdens on her back wrapped in vibrantly colored textiles, reds and oranges, sun colors predominate. You never really know entirely all shes got in there. Probably some crazy stuff. Fairy powders, rabbits feet. Who knows?
And she always wants to feed me. What could be a better abuela?
Bolivia
Once you stay in a country long enough...eat enough food, hear enough music, listen to the muscic of the language, it becomes part of you. You exhude it from your pores, your sweat stinks of the country, the culture...it changes the way you think, the way you act, the way you feel, down to your very core. But so does everything, right?
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Books
I have finished the third book on this trip. I feel kind of accomplished.
Revolution for the Hell of it, then On the Road, then the Holographic Universe. What a fabulous reading list for me...And theres plenty more where that came from.
Thankfully Im over my fever too. I think i got it at Tihuanaco...the sun was very strong on my head, then the weather changed to pouring rain. Anyway, Im all good now.
Revolution for the Hell of it, then On the Road, then the Holographic Universe. What a fabulous reading list for me...And theres plenty more where that came from.
Thankfully Im over my fever too. I think i got it at Tihuanaco...the sun was very strong on my head, then the weather changed to pouring rain. Anyway, Im all good now.
Dogs
There are stray dogs everywhere. They amble about joyously, aimlessly. They live the Zen life.
I know these dogs are much happier than dogs in the US. I know because I have spoken to them. But even if you cannot speak to them, you can still see it in their eyes.
I know these dogs are much happier than dogs in the US. I know because I have spoken to them. But even if you cannot speak to them, you can still see it in their eyes.
Toilets
One thing about Bolivia, and many other places as well, that sucks, is the toilets. Often the public toilets are seat-less lidless bowls that often dont even flush. You just kind of have to close your eyes and nose and do the do. On the bright side, it give me a chance to work on my horse stance.
Tihuanaku
I went with the family to the crazy ruins of Tihuanacu, close to La Paz. These ruins are utterly astonishing...
MAssive stones carved with intricate designs...these people, estimates date them from 1000bc-1000ad, are much more advanced in stonework than even the inca! There are astonishin megaliths, carved, some reaching heights of five people tall, giant statues. There are emblems and certain indicators that seem to point to the fact that these people used a 24-hour, 52-week calendar just like the Roman calendar. Astonishing! The rocks they used to create one of the largest pyramid-temple structures is made of the second most hard substance on earth, after diamond! Even modern technology has a hard time cutting through this tough substance!
These ruins just make me wonder. Who were these people? Why did they build these crazy buildings, carve these weird emblems and holes and grooves in these rocks? What purpose did they have? Who knows??
I imagine one day, our distant descendents, or some alien race, will look upon the ruins of our civilization pondering similar questions. They will find wall street and say ´what purpose did this have? Why did they build this seeming idiocy?´ And certainly nobody will be able to explain it to them. Even if they came to this time, they would have a hard time getting a solid answer.
Silly monkeys and their buildings...
MAssive stones carved with intricate designs...these people, estimates date them from 1000bc-1000ad, are much more advanced in stonework than even the inca! There are astonishin megaliths, carved, some reaching heights of five people tall, giant statues. There are emblems and certain indicators that seem to point to the fact that these people used a 24-hour, 52-week calendar just like the Roman calendar. Astonishing! The rocks they used to create one of the largest pyramid-temple structures is made of the second most hard substance on earth, after diamond! Even modern technology has a hard time cutting through this tough substance!
These ruins just make me wonder. Who were these people? Why did they build these crazy buildings, carve these weird emblems and holes and grooves in these rocks? What purpose did they have? Who knows??
I imagine one day, our distant descendents, or some alien race, will look upon the ruins of our civilization pondering similar questions. They will find wall street and say ´what purpose did this have? Why did they build this seeming idiocy?´ And certainly nobody will be able to explain it to them. Even if they came to this time, they would have a hard time getting a solid answer.
Silly monkeys and their buildings...
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Isla Del Sol...in sobriety
The sunlight of my consciousness suddenly burst through the tumultuous stormclouds of drunken sleep, and in a flash i was awake. I kicked my dad...´que hora es?´ It was 11;30. Suddenly i recognized that evil head- pounding death. The vice-grip last night still posessed over my well-being. We wrestled ourselves out of our covers and blearily stumbled out into the bright morning sun, in search of some remedy for our maladies. We decided we would trek to the ruins, although every ouce of our bodies screamed no. We found a breakfast place, with some coffee and eggs. We cautiosly sipped the coffee and tenatively poked the eggs. After hassling the huevos but not fully consuming them out of nausea, we trekked to the ruins. After about a half hour of trekking in the hot andean sun atop the island peppered with eucalyptus trees and covered completely in terraces with occasional farms on them, we had no clue where we were. We had not seen a person in twenty minutes of walking. We ambled down to the closest casa, and asked someone, the only person in sight. They pointed further down a road.
Finally we made it, to the ruins in the south of Isla del Sol. This was where the inca king rested. Apparently, the inca first came to this island, but it was too rocky, so they proceeded north to Cuzco, where they founded their capital. This island is where the first inca emperor, his wife, the sun, and the moon were all born, according to legend.
They ruin itself was a 15-roomed stone square building, built on terraces with different levels. It was exquisite, and maze-like. But the best was yet to come.
We picked up some ocarinas and necklaces...beautiful!
That night, we took a nap, and woke just as the sun went down. The supposed best ruins were north on the island 3 hours´ trek. There are no motor vehicles on the island, just donkeys and llamas. We contemplated our plans. The rest of the family was meeting us in Copacabana at 1 the next afternoon. Its a 3 hours boat ride. We debated our options...waking up at 5, trekking with our fat bags for 3 hours, cruising the ruins, and catching a boat from the north back...trekking now, at sundown, walking partilly in the dark, and crashing halfway, then finishing the hike in the morning....or doing the whole trek this night, under the moonlight, and crashing all the way at the north, then checking the ruins in the morning. The last was the most agreeable option, despite the dark 3 hour trek. We made it, but had to scramble over some rocks, a stream , and a forest because we thought there was a path. No matter, we got to the small town at the north, and found a hostel and a boat back the next morning at 1030. We woke at 7, hiked the 45 minutes to the ruins, and checked them out.
And I am so glad we didnt skip them! They were an intricate labrynth of twists and turns, over terraces and in tunnels. The idea was, for the Incas, when the sun goes away its the end of the world, so they built this labrynth to trap the sun every night until the next morning. How cool! There is a well and a ceremonial table, probably for sacrifices. There is a rock that looks like a crouching puma, called Ti´ti kar´ka, which gives Lake Titcaca its name.
We traverse the winding maze, and head back to town for the boat back to Copacabana
Finally we made it, to the ruins in the south of Isla del Sol. This was where the inca king rested. Apparently, the inca first came to this island, but it was too rocky, so they proceeded north to Cuzco, where they founded their capital. This island is where the first inca emperor, his wife, the sun, and the moon were all born, according to legend.
They ruin itself was a 15-roomed stone square building, built on terraces with different levels. It was exquisite, and maze-like. But the best was yet to come.
We picked up some ocarinas and necklaces...beautiful!
That night, we took a nap, and woke just as the sun went down. The supposed best ruins were north on the island 3 hours´ trek. There are no motor vehicles on the island, just donkeys and llamas. We contemplated our plans. The rest of the family was meeting us in Copacabana at 1 the next afternoon. Its a 3 hours boat ride. We debated our options...waking up at 5, trekking with our fat bags for 3 hours, cruising the ruins, and catching a boat from the north back...trekking now, at sundown, walking partilly in the dark, and crashing halfway, then finishing the hike in the morning....or doing the whole trek this night, under the moonlight, and crashing all the way at the north, then checking the ruins in the morning. The last was the most agreeable option, despite the dark 3 hour trek. We made it, but had to scramble over some rocks, a stream , and a forest because we thought there was a path. No matter, we got to the small town at the north, and found a hostel and a boat back the next morning at 1030. We woke at 7, hiked the 45 minutes to the ruins, and checked them out.
And I am so glad we didnt skip them! They were an intricate labrynth of twists and turns, over terraces and in tunnels. The idea was, for the Incas, when the sun goes away its the end of the world, so they built this labrynth to trap the sun every night until the next morning. How cool! There is a well and a ceremonial table, probably for sacrifices. There is a rock that looks like a crouching puma, called Ti´ti kar´ka, which gives Lake Titcaca its name.
We traverse the winding maze, and head back to town for the boat back to Copacabana
New Years!
We arrived on isla del sol, and found our hostel room had been taken! Scheming bolivians probably just sold that shit to some other person willing to pay a little more. I dont blame them. Id do the same probably ;).
Anyway, we got another one, price jacked up cuz the island was popping for NY. But its all good, and we set around partying to the trancey music with djs from Bolivia, Peru, Argentina, and Brazil! We met tons of travellers, mostly south americans like brazilians and argentinians...I told my dad I wanted to go get some champagne, and he warily asked me how much i was going to drink...in a very parental way. IU was like its okay, just some champagne. But when we walked to the store we asked if they had san pedro, his favorite liquor from bolivia. They did, and we got a bottle. Absolutely the smoothest alcohol I have ever tasted, way better than top shelf shit like grey goose and patron...trust me, youd believe if you tasted! Anyway, Ive never seen my dad try any alcohol at all and he always is apprehensive about it, but we went ape shit!
Plastered, we stumbled over to some other party, where the entrance was originally 210 USD. We laughed but my dad basically drunkenly forced me to let him take me there, clñaiming he wanted me to have the best ´bolivian´ experience...at this place that was playing techno as opposed to the other playing techno. No matter...we negotiated with the owners and for about 7 USD we got two fat beers and entrance to the party. Once inside, he saw some panpipe players in a band who played earlier and really wanted them to play instead of the DJ. He hassled both parties, and after a round of a dozen beers for the musicians, he got them playing! The entire party went into a trance around the magical musicians...either that or a drunken stupor. Closer than one might think, i guess...
Anyway, that was the best part of the evening...the musicians were so fabulous and the atmosphere amazing. My dad chanted viva aymara (our and the musicians´ tribe) and viva bolivia!! What a great night!
And an equally awful next morning...
Anyway, we got another one, price jacked up cuz the island was popping for NY. But its all good, and we set around partying to the trancey music with djs from Bolivia, Peru, Argentina, and Brazil! We met tons of travellers, mostly south americans like brazilians and argentinians...I told my dad I wanted to go get some champagne, and he warily asked me how much i was going to drink...in a very parental way. IU was like its okay, just some champagne. But when we walked to the store we asked if they had san pedro, his favorite liquor from bolivia. They did, and we got a bottle. Absolutely the smoothest alcohol I have ever tasted, way better than top shelf shit like grey goose and patron...trust me, youd believe if you tasted! Anyway, Ive never seen my dad try any alcohol at all and he always is apprehensive about it, but we went ape shit!
Plastered, we stumbled over to some other party, where the entrance was originally 210 USD. We laughed but my dad basically drunkenly forced me to let him take me there, clñaiming he wanted me to have the best ´bolivian´ experience...at this place that was playing techno as opposed to the other playing techno. No matter...we negotiated with the owners and for about 7 USD we got two fat beers and entrance to the party. Once inside, he saw some panpipe players in a band who played earlier and really wanted them to play instead of the DJ. He hassled both parties, and after a round of a dozen beers for the musicians, he got them playing! The entire party went into a trance around the magical musicians...either that or a drunken stupor. Closer than one might think, i guess...
Anyway, that was the best part of the evening...the musicians were so fabulous and the atmosphere amazing. My dad chanted viva aymara (our and the musicians´ tribe) and viva bolivia!! What a great night!
And an equally awful next morning...
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