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Published: January 21st 2010
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Kath, Justa, Maria y Yo
Warming up with the host sisters Disclaimer: There is a high chance this entry will be disjointed and a little bit messy as I try and recount a number of different events and adventures from the last few weeks. I could write a book with everything that has happened so have limited myself to recount a few
highlights. Bare with me.
Brothel Sing-a-longs Our Bolivian Christmas started on the night of the 23rd, when we nvited ourselves to join the organisation our host sister works for
(word made flesh) in their annual ´carol singing in the brothels´ outing. Word made flesh is a Christian organisation that works with
prostitutes and their families in El Alto, and every week they visit the brothels to hand out hot chocolate and build relationships with
the women. After studying up the 4 spanish carols and donning our santa hats, we headed out the door with the other 15 carolers into the icy night. We had soon arrived at the first brothel, and standing outside it looked like any other inconspicuous doorway. We started
singing Silent Night as we walked single file through the door. We found ourselves walking down a long dark corridor, lined with small pokey rooms which
The Carollers
The group from Word Made Flesh, about to head out to the Brothels contained little more than tired beds. Women, ranking from early teens to middle age, slouched in the door frames waiting for the next client. Men were everywhere, swarming around in the darkness. The spirit was so heavy that it felt like being punched in the stomach. After recovering, we started giving out hot chocolate to the women and after singing our carol medly, we filed back out into the street. We continued this routine for the next 5 or 6 brothels, filing in, singing while giving out hot chocolate and biscuits, and filing back out. By the time we got back to the Word made flesh offices, the mood was sombre. In the debrief, the owner of Word made flesh explained that a lot of the women are basically held captive in their dinky rooms until they have seen atleast 10 clients, which for some can take until the morning. It was hard to see much hope in this ugly side of Bolivian life, but we were encouraged to learn about some initiatives for giving women alternative means to support their families. We should all be grateful to the amazing people at organisations like Word made flesh for the glimmer
Death Road
A long way down... of light they are casting in this dark area.
A trip down death road The infamy of Death Road was one of the first things I had stumbled across in my research on the wonders of Bolivia, weeks before
arriving. I had become fascinated by what has been named the most dangerous road in the world, and when we found out that for a mere
$50nz we could take a 4 hour mountain bike ride down the road, we jumped on the opportunity. We decided it would be a great way to spend the last day of 2009, so at 8am on the 31st we tumbled into a white van, along with a group of 7 or 8 apprehensive Bolivians, that would take us to the starting point. We started off flying down wide tarsealed roads that winded through snow-peaked mountains, and within an hour or so we veered off the safe concrete highway onto a small 3 metre wide gravel road. The guide informed us that this was the beginning of death road, and that the next hour or so we were to be very, very careful. We started off on the small rocky path that hugged
Inca trail river
Giving Maria a helping hand up one of the boulders the sides of the mountains, which were now covered in dense green jungle as we descended down into the valley. Looking over the steep 1km precipes to the left of the road, we soon discovered the road´s reputation was well earned. We could harldly believe that only 2 short years ago two way traffic had to navegate this rocky trail which at times was less than 3m wide. After a couple of very close calls trying to peer over the edge while hurtling down the road, I decided it was time to keep to the right and save the view admiring for the lookouts. By mid afternoon we had made it to the bottom and our bodies were exhausted from the constant shaking of our bikes rattling over the large Stones. Andrew and Kathlene: 1, Death Road: 0.
Following in the Incans´ footsteps After over a month of hearing our host family talk up a local Incan trail, we finally caved and decided it was time to check out this
mysterious track for ourselves. After packing our bags to the brim with sleeping bags, water, food, clothes and tents, we headed off with
our 3 host siblings to
Inca trail
Justa, Alfredo and Maria curving their way down the mountain try our hand at the 2 night tramp. After being dropped off into the darkness in the middle of nowhere, we started our ascent to the peak of the mountain, where the trail would begin. At just before midnight we arrived at the top, it was freezing cold and the wind was howling but the view was amazing with a large mountain in the background and a starry cover above. The plan was to camp on the stony mountainside but fortunately we stumbled across a make-shift stone house with matresses which we decided would be a more comfortable option.. Luckily the owners didn´t show up during the night as we feared and at 6am we headed off down the mountain. Maria, our host sister, told us as we curved down the mountain that the stony trail we were walking on had been made 1500 years ago by the Incans in order to carry mensages down through the valley. It was quite special to be able to walk on the same stones as the Incan messengers. The second night we found a clearing in the bush and set up camp, waking up the next morning to a beautiful golden sunrise between
First sunrise of 2010
Admiring the view from Coroico in the early hours of Jan 1 the two mountains in the distance. Around midday we reached a beautiful river, scattered with large boulders which we scrambled over to find hidden lagoons and waterfalls. By mid afternoon on the 3rd day, our bodies were all relieved to make it to our destination, a small town high up in the mountains. We sat and watched a football game between the clouds, and soon were in a rusty old van navigating the mountains on our way back to La Paz.
In Brief Some other notable happenings (apologies for the novel).
- On Christmas Eve we were walking in the main square when I noticed there was a cut in my bag. I thought nothing of it, but then noticed that my bag had been sliced right open and the cardboard and book in my bag had been sliced straight through! A pick pocket had somehow done it without us, or anyone else, noticing and stolen my camera!
- New Years Eve we spent at a hotel party in a nearby town Coroico. After arriving in Coroico, we were unable to find a place to stay so paid a pharmacy $1nz to keep our bags over night and were told we could pick them up at 8am. The hotel was perched on the side of the mountain and it was amazing to the see the first sunrise of 2010 as the clouds cleared around us.
- We finally made it to see the famous Cholilta wrestling. It was lucha libre, famous across South America, but with a twist. The luchadoras were country girls with full skirts and plaits! It was strange to see these woman spinning around the ring, jumping off the ropes and hitting each other with tables. Good fun.
Next entry: The Amazon!
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