Tarabuco Market, Sucre Bolivia

It´s amazing to see so many beautiful colors, so many beautiful textiles and so many beautiful faces...here in the market of Tarabuco, Sucre Bolivia, you had it all. From Sucre, you take a taxi and it takes you 62 km to a market not only for the tourists but for the locals as well. But this taxi driver was a bat out of hell. Taking curves at more than 100km per hour, I thought I was going to be thrown out of the car. I closed my eyes and at some point I thought i was going to cry. There were sheep, cows, all crossing the roads...I kept wondering how on earth would he ever have time to hit the breaks if an unsuspected creature braved to cross our path. They did, and he hit the breaks like a professional race car driver. But that also meant he hit the gas pedal like a professional as well. I just bit my lip and hoped to arrive in one piece. I really wanted to buy some textiles! We arrived safely and I was eager to lay my feet on the ground. Walking around, the smell od coca leaves were everywhere. Almost every local here carried a lil bag full of those green lil leaves. When they smiled, their teeth had greety green leaves...some of them had missing teeth but their smiles were still beautiful somehow. I went around looking at everything. I bought a few things because I cant take too much stuff, my lil home can only carry 17 kilos.

For lunch, we ate at the market. The frech girl, I was with, ate at a differnt stand that me. She ate noodles while I ate yummy Fried chicken, rice and deep fried fries! Anything fried is delicious and it also meant any bacteria in my food would be killed, well, that´s what i think. As I was eating, three men stood on the stand next to mine. Rudely the yelled at the lady cook...¨Hey, hey you...how much are your plates¨...busy, she did not respond...¨Hey, YOU, did you not hear us, do you not want costumers...I guess this woman doenst want our business, we should leave..¨...she finally responded. Satisfied with the price she had given them...they continued to hassle her...¨hey you, where can we sit, all your spots are taken, your SHIT is small, this is crazy, dont you care about us¨ the reclaimed as they told the few costumers their at the table to make room for them. The tatooed bolivian men, finally, sat down and awaited their food. It finally came and they gobbled their food down. Halfway thru, one man stood up, picked up his plate and yelled...¨Oye, this chicken is not cooked, can you cook it more for me, look at it, its pink¨...the woman was used to this behaviour, I suppose, because she was patient and did not say a word to these men.
I finally finished my food and was happy not to be next to those complaining men. In the food plaza, there was a TV playing Music videos in Quechua and a sleu of people surrounded the Tv intently watching it...some with their eyes all bugged out...it looked like they were watching a crime scene on the screen or something mind boggling.

Later that day...as we were about to leave, the french girl i was with decided to have a coffe..I accompanied her. The coffee with milk was delicious. I had to use the bathrrom and I went in back of the lil place to use it...along the way, was a young girl cooking potato chips...in Quechua she told me to stay and try some of her chips. With OUt much hestitation , I grabbed a few chips and they were yummy. She taught me how to make them...how many min to deep fry them, how finely to peel the potatos, ect. We talked and talked. She was only 18 and she said that she worked because she did not want to marry and start having kids...she rather work and make a living for herself. I encouraged her to be independent and she agreed. I went back out to sit down and the taxi driver appeared. ¨My mom owns this place, you know...and the lady over there selling fresh orange juice is my sister...I´ve been back from Canada 5 years now, you know. I tried living over there with my girlfriend from canada but THEY ARE TOO LIBERAL. She cheated on me...and well, I don´t like too liberal peaople.¨...I listened. ¨Do you want to go back to Sucre in my Taxi...¨ ¨Yes, but you have to drive SLOWLY or ill tell your mom to pull your ears for me if you go fast¨...So we took off, we picked up a couple that happened to be from the same hostel we were from. WE chatted the whole hour taxi ride. I thanked the driver for driving slowly.

Back at the hostal....The guy who had ridden in my taxi, came starttled to me and said to help him. But I wondered what on earth did he need help in. He was talking fast and it turned out that his girlfriend had left her Wallet in the taxi and since they knew I sopke Spanish and I had become friends with the driver, that I could help. The wheels started turning in my head. I was stressed, she was stressed...but I took control of the situation. I asked my hostal if they knew how we could get in touch with the Tarabuco police because I knew if we could get in touch with the drivers mom who owned the lil coffee shop at the main plaza, we could ask her for her sons cell phone and we could call him. But my hostal was no help. I decided to go to the Sucre Police. But they were playing cards, they did not even put them down to talk to us. ¨Cant you use ur cell phones to call tarabucu¨...¨no, we have no contact with them¨...knowing they weer not going to help us....my only thought was to leave and take the next taxi out to the Parada where I had taken our taxi...He dropped us off at the PARADA...the girl who had lost her wallet asked me if I had remembered what color the car was...we sat and raked our brains...BLACK, it was BLACK, and it was a NISSAN....scattering the area for a car that fit the description....she pointed to what seemed to be our taxi car. We ran towards it...and we scanned the back...the WALLET was there. We jumped up and down, Hurray, it was there and we found it and we were glad that noone had taken it because it contained her credit card.....The taxi driver came over and was wondering what was happening. Laughing the taxi said...¨You girls are luck I came back to the PARADA, I had gone home and was about to take a nap wjhen my compadre called me to come back here...u girls rea really really lucky¨.....we hugged, he took us home, she gave him 50 bolivianos and she cooked for me.

It was a long day!

---

---