Bolivia's Wine Region

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Due to problems with this blog website, I have not written lately. Also, I believe some of my former entries are mixed around and/or incomplete... Sorry for the confusion.

I arrived back in Cochabamba today, after a wonderful week in Tarija. Tarija is in the south of Bolivia, about four hours from the Argentinian border. I stayed with the sister of a friend in Cochabamba; what a treat it was to stay in a home with a Bolivian, instead of in a hostal by myself.

Tarija is the wine region of Bolivia, and I did a daylong tour of the various bodegas, I did some wine-tasting as well. The land is just beautiful, and the wine is rich. Don't worry Maggie - I bought you a bottle of red. I also got the chance to go to "el campo" (the country) and see where this tarijeno friend of mine grew up - the actual house. It is in a small pueblo called Carachimayu, about one half on an hour outside the city of Tarija. It is

el campo

by any and all definitions. The land is vast, there are not many people, dirt roads, chickens bawking, cows and horses walking freely. The house was made of stone, or possibly adobe. And the view in all directions is breathtaking. Enormous and beautiful mountains, very green and fertile (even more so in the summer, I am told). Celinda (the sister I stayed with) and I spent the afternoon there, had lunch and visited with Mom and brother. My afternoon in el campo, although only a few hours, was a much-needed experience in terms of understanding the Bolivian reality. The life of a

campesino

family is hard work. More work than most people I know (including myself) can probably imagine.

I remember my friend saying to me before I left, that if I went to his house, to know that :

no es muy comodo

And I know what he meant. It's true that if I had slept there many nights I may have been uncomfortable. But, I imagine that - in some ways - the place where he grew up is comfortable in ways that my house never could be. The quiet, the beauty, the simplicity.

After my time in Tarija, about 6 days, I took a night bus to Potosi. I was only in Potosi for a matter of minutes, but I did at least see the infamous

Cerro Rico.

And what a sight it was. It's possible that I felt this way because I was there in early morning, when dawn was breaking and it was bitterly cold, but to me, the city of Potosi had an eerie feeling about it. The people were friendly, but the history there is so sad. A certain tone seems to be set. Next time I am there, I should enter the mine. I would be so scared, and that is for one day without having to actually do any work. Can you imagine being a miner and having to go every day? There's such a benefit to contemplating other people's realities.

After the morning in Potosi, I took a multi-person taxi to Sucre, where I spent the day. I did not see much, but the city is beautiful. Its other name is "La ciudad blanca," because all of the buildings in the center of the city are white. That same night, I got on another bus to head back to Cochabamba, where I am now.

The next three days in a major festival/holiday called Virgen de Urkupina. It is a very exciting time to be in Cochabamba (even more exciting if you are a Cochabambino). There will be lots of dancing in the street, and processions, and masses, and of course - like any party - lots of drinking.

So, cheers!

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