I took a bus at 9am for La Paz. Its a 3hr journey to the capital. The bus was ancient but seemed well able for the bus load of locals. I was the only gringo onboard today, crammed up against the window by the large woman in a black bowler hat who sat beside me. An hour into the journey we stopped at a small town and everybody got off the bus. I was wondering what was going on when the driver told me we had to get a ferry across a narrow stretch of water to another village and meet up with the bus on the far side. I followed the crowd and boarded a small ferry while the bus was loaded on to a large flat craft which would take it across.
Waiting in the village on the far side I bumped into a Dutch lad, Tommie. We´d bumped into each other twice before nearly two months earlier down in Argentina. Tommie was heading for Peru after a month in Bolivia. Tommie was a sound lad, big into his football. We chatted for a few minutes to catch up with each others adventures and then had to leave in order to take our respective buses.
We all piled back on board the bus and hit the road for La Paz. This was going to be interesting. When I was in argentina I´d heard rumours the country was on the brink of Civil War but anybody I spoke to since didn´t see anything which would look like a country falling apart. The country has an indigenous President for the first time in its history, Evo Morales. He came to power a couple of years ago and has set about doing something to help the indigenous majority. Virtually all the wealth and positions of power have been held by those of colonial blood. Morales did expel the American ambassador, unhappy with American meddling in Bolivian affairs. He is trying to introduce a new constitution which will attempt to redress the position of the indigenous peoples. A referendum is to be held on Jan 25th so this will be a landmark date for Bolivia.
As we crossed a flat plain on the approach to La Paz graffiti was quite common on many walls in the small towns we passed. On the outskirts of the city grafiti andpolitical posters became frequent. All were supportive of the President. Phrases like "Gracias Evo", "Evo Si por la constitucion" were common. Morales is popular in the capital. One particular poster depicted Evo being hugged by an old woman, another showed a very determined president with the slogan "Bolivia, Unidad, Grande Y......" A lot of slogans included "Bolivia Unidad....." so obviously there is a problem in term of unity. There are obvious tensions between the indigenous people and the colonials who must feel they are going to lose position and wealth by the new constitution. Apparently in September 30 farmers were attacked and killed after attending a pro-constitution rally in the city. Tensions must be simmering somewhere beneath the surface as the this constitutional campaign approaches its climax. Bolivia has always been an unstable entity. Since it gained independence in 1825 there have been 180 changes of Government. Strikes and Mass demonstrations in the capitla are a frequent occurrence.
As we passed through the suburbs I was less than impressed by my first sight of the capital. It was certainly busy, traffic clooged the streets but on this flat plain the place looked bland. We stopped to drop off passengers and then the bus turned onto a motorway. I was beginning to wonder where we were going when the motorway brought to us to the edge of a cliff. The plain simply dropped away and La Paz came into view below us. The city centre was down in the depths of a canyon, the suburbs spread out up the steep sides of the canyon and spilled out across the plain we´d just left. It was a hair-raising spectacle because it was so unexpected. I hadn´t heard La Paz was in such a dramatic location. It was the most spectacular entry to a city I´ve ever seen. Its the worlds highest capital at 3,600m and yet ironically its situated at the bottom of a deep canyon.
We descend into the city centre and as we drop down the suburbs rise up above us like sheer walls on either side. We arrive at the terminal, Cementario, a well-known landmark in the city from where many buses and collectivos depart. I get luck. I walk off the bus and straight into a taxi. The driver is a pleasnt guy. It turns out the hostel I intend staing at no longer exists. We get to the street where the hostel is supposed to be and after 10-15 mins of searching, and a couple of phone calls there is no sign of it and nobody knows it. No matter, there are plenty of other hostels in this street and the driver advises me on a reasonable one. I get a reasonably cheap room.
When I go out to look around I feel edgy. Since the experience on my first night in Buenos Aires I´m always edgy when I first arrive in big cities. I have to withdraw money from an ATM and this doesn´t help my mood. I don´t really enjoy the first hour or so. La Paz, reputedly, has a similar reputation to B.A. so I´m on my guard until I get a feel for the place.
I spend a couple of hours wandering around the centre. Its late Sunday afternoon so things are quiet. I see a military guard perform a flag ceremony in the Plaza Mayor which was quite picturesque. Later on I eat in an Italian restaurant. They make fine lasagnes in Bolivia. I´ve had a couple now and they were both great. A group of hippies came in and took a table. There was a DVD playing on tv with a Bolivian folkgroup in concert. I´ve heard these before, in Copacabana and while I wouldn´t go running out to buy a cd the music was good for the atmosphere in the place. You really felt you were up in the Andes with this kind of music. The hippies, however, had to go and ask if could be changed for Simon and Garfunkel. That bloody irritated me. I didn´t come all the way to South America to listen to those Gobshites. Bloody Hippies..... "Peace and Love for All!!" so long as its on their terms!!. Anyway, where was I??.... Oh aye, La Paz. Its cool out man! Here´s to you Mrs Robinson....
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