El Camino de la Muerte

Last weekend, Manuela and I headed back to Coroico. You might remember from a previous entry that the old road from La Paz to Coroico is called “The Death Road“, and until recently (specifically, until they finished the new road), was considered one of the most hazardous stretches of dirt and gravel in the world. Well, to make a long story short, we figured that this sort of danger was just too good to miss, so we biked down the death road on the return trip to Coroico.

The Thin Black and White Line

Every country has its idiosyncrasies when it comes to driving. Germany has its Ampelmännchen. Italy has its love of public debate and disdain for “rules” of the “road”. The U.S. has its spirited gun play during afternoon commutes. The UK has its roundabouts and zebra crossings. And Bolivia has its zebras.

By Any Other Name

(Editor’s note: for those who don’t like anything that smacks of environmental preachiness, I advise you to skip this entry and check back next week.  We’re headed to Copacabana on Lake Titicaca this weekend, so I should have some neat photos to post soon.)

It’s an interesting exercise to compare life in two such different countries as Bolivia and Canada.  For instance, pollution exists in both countries in a variety of forms; I daresay it is considered a problem in both countries.  However, the nature and extent of the problem varies widely, even paradoxically.

This is What I Mean by Flash Flooding

For all you fans of the Weather Network out there (you know who you are), here is some footage from the storm we had yesterday. The rain was extremely heavy, but only lasted for about 20 minutes. I took these videos shortly after the worst of the rain had let up. I think it fair to say that drainage is an issue in some areas of the city. Still, I suppose the nice thing about living on top of a continent is that everything drains away sooner or later….

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Live (on tape) from La Paz!

In a Prest for a Quote first, I’ve put together a video montage of our little adventure at the Festival of Alasitas last week. It was fun to do, but took a fair bit of work, so please let me know if you find it interesting, entertaining, or not.

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And Now for Something Completely Different — The Festival of Alasitas

Sometimes life gives you a treat, completely unexpected and unsolicited. Yesterday was such a day for me; I got to take part in the annual Bolivian Alasitas festival. As I understand it, Alasitas is based upon an ancient Tihuanaco tradition, one that was carried on during Incan times and lives on as an Aymaran custom. More recently (as in several hundred years ago) the festival was infused with some trappings of Catholocism, and today it remains a thriving cultural institution.

A Hard Rain’s a-Gonna Fall

Since I’ve arrived here in Bolivia, I’ve been struck by how much the country has in common with Canada. Both countries display incredible natural diversity. Bolivia ranges from snow-topped peaks to the wide altiplano, to the eery badlands, to the rain-soaked Amazon basin; Canada in turn one moves from B.C.’s temperate rainforest to the frigid arctic, to the Rocky mountains, to the wide open prairies, to the lake strewn Canadian Shield, to the Atlantic maritimes. Both countries feature contentious relations between central and regional governments, and both countries have had a troubled history with respect to their indigenous peoples.

Now, there’s another common link: the weather. People like to talk about the weather in Canada and Bolivia, and with good reason — it has the potential to change lives in both countries, and on occasion even to end them. Bolivia has once again declared a state of emergency in response to the intense flooding in recent days. Reports suggest that as many as two dozen people have died across the country in the deluge; more wet weather is on the way.

We have had the chance to experience this phenomenon first-hand, as La Paz is right in the thick of it. Yesterday I watched the rain advance in a wall from the 12th story patio outside Manuela’s office.

A Funny Thing Happened to Me on the Way to the Plaza

I took a little walkabout yesterday in La Paz, to see what I could see. Now that I’ve been here for a couple of days, I’m beginning to notice aspects of the city that I missed in my first impressions. For instance, This is a city of art. Wherever you go, the city is a canvas.

From the quaint,

Barbeque Tango

This past weekend was dominated by two themes: dancing and meat. Not dancing meat mind you, you’ll find that in a different sort of blog. Anyways, Saturday afternoon we took in a two-hour tango lesson. Having watched it and tried it, I’d describe the tango as ‘attitude loosely set to music’. It’s all about smouldering gazes, peacock-like walks, and good posture.

As it happens, a number of the folks at this particular tango class were planning a barbeque for Sunday, and invited us along. About 10 of us went out to the Valle de la Luna south of La Paz, and had a good ol’ fashioned cookout. The area had a sort of Polynesian feel, complete with thatch roofed barbeque shelters.

Giant Slides and Other Adventures

Hi ho, Stewart Prest here from Bolivia. I’m still a bit behind on my updates — the pictures I’m including in this post actually came from an adventure during our first weekend in La Paz. That Sunday, Manuela and I took it upon ourselves to prove that we had fully adjusted to the altitude by climbing up to every hilltop viewpoint in the entire city. By and large, we made it unscathed, with no cases of the Bends or collapsed lungs to report. What follows are a few of the pictures from the trip.