THIS POST IS IN THE WRONG ORDER... THIS HAPPENED BEFORE THE LAST POST!!
One of the last things I did before jumping into a cab at 6:30am Sunday morning was to arrange another meet-up with the new group of friends for Cholita Wrestling the next afternoon. Now for those of you unfamiliar with the Cholita, let me spell it out for you... These women, as I have previously mentioned in my blog, are the staple of Bolivian tradition. Dressed in a matching costume of long, black plaits, 3/5 length skirt, bowler hat of some description, with a coloured handmade rug slung over the back packed with goods and usually with a baby on the tit (or in the rug).
These women are EVERYWHERE in Bolivia. And after a while, you don't even notice them pass by. But if you stopped to look at one and try to imagine her pulling the plaits of another inside a WWF-style wrestling ring, you may have a little difficulty. Which is why I was so intrigued when I saw an ad for this very scenario on my city map. We had to go.
So us 5 piled into a regular sized cab (a mean feat with a giant Dutch man in the group) and circled up and up and up towards the Alto, a place not famed for its fair and safe practices. Several times on the way up we were convinced the driver was sending us into the mouths of the La Paz mafia, but eventually we got there and boy, was it worth it.
First, we had to endure REALLY bad acting from male wrestlers like The Cobra, The Commando... and THEN they came out. It was definitely the pinnacle of the evening. All the gringos - sat around the ring in special "tourist" seating with their little souvenir and free popcorn on entry - were soaked by water thrown by one crazy cholita, as they dodged the pair falling over the railing and jumping all over each other... it was hilarious. I have the videos to prove it.
Afterwards, we opted instead for the local minibus to get back into town and then went back to the same bar we always went to. We had a few drinks but I took it easy, thinking we would be heading to Copacabana the next morning, but me and M still didn't make it back to the hostel until about 1am. For the second night in a row, we had to knock madly for quite a while before the night watchman came to let us in. Oops.
Showing posts with label gringos. Show all posts
Showing posts with label gringos. Show all posts
Friday, 17 June 2011
Sunday, 5 June 2011
Enter Bolivia
The bus to La Quiaca - the frontier town before the Bolivian border in Argentina - arrived early. Of course, the only bus to arrive EARLY in Argentina is this one, at 6:40am Argentina time, giving us a little extra waiting time in the hideous bus terminal of La Quiaca before the sun came up and the border opened for business.
I say "we" because I had, by this stage, congregated with the other gringos on the bus (there weren`t many) - 3 English gap yeaaaars and a hot Swiss guy - and we waited together sticking out like sore thumbs amongst the indigenous Bolivians wrapped in blankets squatting on the floor, chairs, window sills etc... staring at us. Always staring. Didn`t help that we were all blonde.
Finally we were on the move, were overcharged by the taxi that took us a few blocks to the border where we could have easily walked had we understood the directions properly. At the border, I met an Israeli guy who I had previously run into first in Iguazu, then Bs As, then Salta and again at this border. Stop stalking me! haha... So our group continued to grow...
No hassled through either border - they didn`t even look at my friggin Yellow Fever certificate!! - and we were in Villazon, officially Bolivia. It was still early, given the time had gone back an hour, so we had plenty of choice in which form of transport to get. There was just 1 bus in the morning and 1 in the evening, so we opted for the buses and puffed n panted the whole 5 blocks to the terminal. Damn you, high altitude!
Well, at the terminal it was a whole `nother experience altogether! I ended up being the person with the most Spanish skills in the group (go figure - the English girls had been in South America for almost 3 months and still couldn`t count to 10), so I was stuck fending off the vendors who were trying to push us into private cabs, or buses, or whatever was going at the time.
To be honest, the prices were not that bad no matter what form of transport, but considering it was 30 bs (over $4) for a private taxi, I figured it would be much cheaper for the public bus. We ended up getting a discount even on that and so, 10 bs later (about $1.30) we were on the way to Tupiza.
The bus was reasonably comfy, we all fell asleep for at least a small portion of it, but my body was CRAVING something better and my muscles had started to ache. The bumpy road didn`t help either. A few hours later, of course more than we had been promised, we arrived in Tupiza and headed into "town".
The people here are all indigenous, and it being the first place most people see coming from Argentina, you would be forgiven in thinking all people in Bolivia looked like this. Apparently not, however, as most of the population are white and live in La Paz. And there is some major divides between the two. Not something I wanna get into while I`m here!
But the people I saw looked nice enuf... the women all in their traditional get-up of knee-length skirt, kinda apron thing, long black hair in 2 plaits, black bowler hat pinned on top of their heads, and usually with a big, colourful bag slung over their backs - I grew to learn most of these contained babies, so I became a little more careful when passing them on a crowded passage.
The place basically exists for people wanting to do the salt flats tour or go horseriding in the desert amongst the cacti and red mountains. So if you`re not into either of that, well then you had better leave Tupiza. I, luckily, was entirely looking forward to throwing my leg over and riding out into the mountains with a Bolivian romeo by my side.
Well, things are never quite as you dream, now are they. It seemed way too difficult for the tour companies to organise me a multi-day trek so I, in the end, opted to join the bigger group - the much cheaper way - and do 5 hours the next day. Seriously, the prices they were quoting me for 4, 5 days were just staggering. Obviously it was easier to just give me one day.
We lived like kings the first day, eating lunch AND dinner in restaurants and not even seeing the inside of our hostel kitchen. Oh, and our hostel... I ended up rooming with the Israeli and the Swiss, in a house next to the actual hostel it belonged to, therefore the very cheapest option we could have had.
Just 20 bs later (just over $3), we were set with a room and also the freedom to move in and out as we pleased - better than the 11:30pm curfew set for those in the more expensive rooms next door. Seriously, does no one want us to party in this town? Answer: no. The town is the most conservative I have seen yet.
After dinner, we wanted to keep drinking but our only option seemed to be buying beer and drinking it on the sofas in the main area of our hostel/house. So that we did. Talked with some French guys staying in the same house, and then bailed for bed. After all, we had horseriding to do the next day!!
I say "we" because I had, by this stage, congregated with the other gringos on the bus (there weren`t many) - 3 English gap yeaaaars and a hot Swiss guy - and we waited together sticking out like sore thumbs amongst the indigenous Bolivians wrapped in blankets squatting on the floor, chairs, window sills etc... staring at us. Always staring. Didn`t help that we were all blonde.
Finally we were on the move, were overcharged by the taxi that took us a few blocks to the border where we could have easily walked had we understood the directions properly. At the border, I met an Israeli guy who I had previously run into first in Iguazu, then Bs As, then Salta and again at this border. Stop stalking me! haha... So our group continued to grow...
No hassled through either border - they didn`t even look at my friggin Yellow Fever certificate!! - and we were in Villazon, officially Bolivia. It was still early, given the time had gone back an hour, so we had plenty of choice in which form of transport to get. There was just 1 bus in the morning and 1 in the evening, so we opted for the buses and puffed n panted the whole 5 blocks to the terminal. Damn you, high altitude!
Well, at the terminal it was a whole `nother experience altogether! I ended up being the person with the most Spanish skills in the group (go figure - the English girls had been in South America for almost 3 months and still couldn`t count to 10), so I was stuck fending off the vendors who were trying to push us into private cabs, or buses, or whatever was going at the time.
To be honest, the prices were not that bad no matter what form of transport, but considering it was 30 bs (over $4) for a private taxi, I figured it would be much cheaper for the public bus. We ended up getting a discount even on that and so, 10 bs later (about $1.30) we were on the way to Tupiza.
The bus was reasonably comfy, we all fell asleep for at least a small portion of it, but my body was CRAVING something better and my muscles had started to ache. The bumpy road didn`t help either. A few hours later, of course more than we had been promised, we arrived in Tupiza and headed into "town".
The people here are all indigenous, and it being the first place most people see coming from Argentina, you would be forgiven in thinking all people in Bolivia looked like this. Apparently not, however, as most of the population are white and live in La Paz. And there is some major divides between the two. Not something I wanna get into while I`m here!
But the people I saw looked nice enuf... the women all in their traditional get-up of knee-length skirt, kinda apron thing, long black hair in 2 plaits, black bowler hat pinned on top of their heads, and usually with a big, colourful bag slung over their backs - I grew to learn most of these contained babies, so I became a little more careful when passing them on a crowded passage.
The place basically exists for people wanting to do the salt flats tour or go horseriding in the desert amongst the cacti and red mountains. So if you`re not into either of that, well then you had better leave Tupiza. I, luckily, was entirely looking forward to throwing my leg over and riding out into the mountains with a Bolivian romeo by my side.
Well, things are never quite as you dream, now are they. It seemed way too difficult for the tour companies to organise me a multi-day trek so I, in the end, opted to join the bigger group - the much cheaper way - and do 5 hours the next day. Seriously, the prices they were quoting me for 4, 5 days were just staggering. Obviously it was easier to just give me one day.
We lived like kings the first day, eating lunch AND dinner in restaurants and not even seeing the inside of our hostel kitchen. Oh, and our hostel... I ended up rooming with the Israeli and the Swiss, in a house next to the actual hostel it belonged to, therefore the very cheapest option we could have had.
Just 20 bs later (just over $3), we were set with a room and also the freedom to move in and out as we pleased - better than the 11:30pm curfew set for those in the more expensive rooms next door. Seriously, does no one want us to party in this town? Answer: no. The town is the most conservative I have seen yet.
After dinner, we wanted to keep drinking but our only option seemed to be buying beer and drinking it on the sofas in the main area of our hostel/house. So that we did. Talked with some French guys staying in the same house, and then bailed for bed. After all, we had horseriding to do the next day!!
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