La Paz... Dislocated

After the violent events of the previous day, it was no surprise that we had another accident-related incident after checking out of our hostel, en route to meet the others and head to Copacabana. While eating a delicious and ridiculously cheap fruit salad with M’s crush from the hostel, a young girl fell off the see-saw behind us and dislocated her elbow. I will never forget the look of terror on her poor face as she looked up at me and saw my look of horror at her hideously bent limb.

I was shell-shocked, taking a complete step back to avoid the girl seeing my face again and panicking further, while M and his crush sprung into action. Luckily there was a police station just next to us so they whisked her away and called an ambulance. Hectic.

Getting to Copabacana, however, was an entirely more complicated process than getting a young girl to hospital. We had heard from our hostel people that Bolivia was on a one-day transport strike and there was – along with a strike from drivers – actual blockades around La Paz that prevented anyone from going anywhere. So we were grounded. We tried to think of other options, but even using a private taxi we were told would cause protesters to throw rocks at our vehicle as we passed the main problem area.

I had checked into the same hostel as the Turkish brother/sister combo, not wanting to walk the hill again with my backpack, and left M at the other hostel meeting us the next morning. However, with him stressed that he wouldn’t get up in time, I found him in the foyer of my new hostel asking which room I was in. Now I was fine with that, but sharing a bed with him I found a little annoying – he doesn’t believe in deodarant and also doesn’t shower all that often. Luckily, after some haggling with the bitchy owner, we changed to a room with 2 double beds and all was forgiven.

So we resigned ourselves to staying another day in hectic La Paz, and used our time to check out the markets. I had started to become obsessed with buying an alapaca/llama poncho, and also wanted to see prices for some other handmade items I wanted to buy. Some bday money had arrived in my account courtesy of the olds so I was feeling a little more generous with my wallet. At fucking last, I say!

Before we knew it, it was getting late and I almost missed the second interview I had set up with the Caribbean chick about work. So I settled myself into the local bar we’d started to call our meeting point (still having bought nothing – thought it best to wait until the very end to lug it around), and waited. And waited. And waited. About half an hour after our arranged time, I called it quits, frustrated that for the second time this lady had bailed on me. But, remembering she lived on a tiny island, I forgave her for her tardiness and awaited her repentence.

I knew it would be an early start so I laid off too much booze – also I was feeling a bit funny from the medicine I was taking for my tooth, and tired from everything from the day. So I basically laid my head on K’s lap while the others played pool and drank a few, and then we called it a night.

Back at the hostel, M and I came back to the room and he starts madly scavenging around his bag. I ask him what is wrong, and he tells me his cap is missing… OK, not cool, I think. Then he tells me inside the cap was 300 Argentinian pesos. Definitely not cool. He never finds it, obviously gets annoyed about it, and I fall asleep to him rummaging around.

At 5:30am, my alarm went off for my medicine and I noticed the room was empty besides me and my things. I had no idea where M went, but I noticed the door was left unlocked. Something a little amiss, given there was clearly a thief around that could even get in with a key… so I was naturally a bit annoyed. Nothing, however, could have prepared me for what went down the next morning…