We arrived in Santa Cruz, known for being more racially diverse than the rest of Bolivia. Waiting in line to buy our train tickets to the Brazilian border, we saw three light skinned blonde men in overalls and bill caps. They looked like Minnesota farmers, only thinner. No doubt they are from the German-Canadian Mennonite community that is here.
Santa Cruz has a different feel from other Bolivian cities we have visited. It´s wealthier and cleaner, and perhaps due to its multiculturalism (it has communities of Mennonites, Japanese immigrants, Bolivians from the Altiplano, Cuban doctors, descendants of ex-Nazi runaways, Brazilian immigrants and Russians), it has great multicultural cuisine. And unlike Cochabamba, where red lights are merely a suggestion to stop and nobody cares that the homeless people bathe and wash their laundry in the public fountains and hang their laundry out to dry in the plazas, Santa Cruz seems to be a rules following kind of a place. Gary and I, killing a few hours in the plaza while waiting for our train, got in trouble with a cop when we propped our swollen bus-tired feet up while sitting on a park bench!
As the richest people of Bolivia, the residents of Santa Cruz feel the most threatened by Evo Morales´s socialist land reform and nationalization policies, and the department of Santa Cruz has voted to become autonomous. It remains to be seen what that will mean.
At 1,360 feet altitude, compared to Cochabamba´s 8,400, Santa Cruz is hot and muggy. Time to move on. Meanwhile, in other news:
The Bolivian photo I most want to take: A family of 4 or 5 riding together on one bicycle. I see this almost every day, but never have my camera ready at the right moment. Almost as good: A family of four riding on a motorcycle taxi. The fifth was the driver. We saw this in Villa Tunari.
My favorite new Spanish phrase: un viejo verde. A dirty old man. (no, this isn´t in reference to Gary!)
Monday, March 31, 2008
East to Brazil
We took an overnight bus from Cochabamba to Santa Cruz. We went down, down, down, and then the land became flat. We drove past wide and shallow rivers streaked with sand bars, and palm trees, banana trees, cattle pastures and crops I can~t identify. We rode in our "bus cama" (bus with reclining seats) past poorer Bolivians riding in the open backs of freight trucks. During the ride, I had time to reflect a bit on Bolivia.
Some of the things that we take for granted in the U.S. can be a major ordeal in Bolivia. Gas fuel, for instance. Our house, like many, is not hooked to the gas line in Cochabamba, so we have a small yellow gas tank that we connect to our kitchen stove and use for cooking fuel. (The kitchen stove is the only appliance that uses gas here, as we have no heating stove or furnace, and no hot water other than in our electric sho9wer, which is heated using an on demand electric water heater). When the tank runs empty, the flame in the kitchen stove dies and we must immediately trade our tank for a full one. This was no problem when gas was available at our corner grocery store, but lately for some reason the stores don~t carry gas and we can only get it from the gas truck that drives around every few days. We have to listen for the sound of the gas truck, which sounds like a guy hitting a gas tank with a metal object, and go running out to the street with our empty tank. Meanwhile, we could be out of gas for several days which means no cooking and no purifing our water by boiling. Fortunately, our landlord has now purchased a second gas tank so that we always have a spare on hand, but most Bolivians can´t afford to do this.
Speaking of things that most Bolivians cannot afford, I recently learned that it costs US $900 to buy a telephone line in Cochabamba. This just gets you the phone number, nothing more. When most Cochabambinos earn less than US $100 per month, this is prohibitively expensive. Cell phones, bad for the environment as they are, are a cheaper option.
Many transactions in Bolivia, especially those for larger amounts, are done in U.S. dollars. Rent is paid in dollars. Houses and cars are purchased and college tuition is paid, all in dollars. Many people, especially those with a higher salary, are paid in dollars. At the supermarket, where richer people shop, the cash register provides the total in both dollars and Bolivianos. When I use my ATM card to make a withdrawal from my checking account, I can choose to withdraw dollars or Bolivianos. People with better jobs are often paid in dollars. I dont know the reason for this, except that it´s much more practical to pay large sums in dollars, as the largest Boliviano bill is 200 Bs, or about US $27. You would need a huge wad of Bolivianos to buy a used car, for example.
Gary does most of our shopping at the local markets, rather than at the supermarkets. Nearly all the food here is fresh: freshe fruit, fresh vegetables and fresh grains. There is little prepared food here. Bolivians don´t seem to buy canned soups or other prepared foods, and the result is that we eat a lot of delicious, fresh foods. Unlike in the U.S., fresh food costs much less than the few processed or prepared items that are available here. This is the way it should be!
Some of the things that we take for granted in the U.S. can be a major ordeal in Bolivia. Gas fuel, for instance. Our house, like many, is not hooked to the gas line in Cochabamba, so we have a small yellow gas tank that we connect to our kitchen stove and use for cooking fuel. (The kitchen stove is the only appliance that uses gas here, as we have no heating stove or furnace, and no hot water other than in our electric sho9wer, which is heated using an on demand electric water heater). When the tank runs empty, the flame in the kitchen stove dies and we must immediately trade our tank for a full one. This was no problem when gas was available at our corner grocery store, but lately for some reason the stores don~t carry gas and we can only get it from the gas truck that drives around every few days. We have to listen for the sound of the gas truck, which sounds like a guy hitting a gas tank with a metal object, and go running out to the street with our empty tank. Meanwhile, we could be out of gas for several days which means no cooking and no purifing our water by boiling. Fortunately, our landlord has now purchased a second gas tank so that we always have a spare on hand, but most Bolivians can´t afford to do this.
Speaking of things that most Bolivians cannot afford, I recently learned that it costs US $900 to buy a telephone line in Cochabamba. This just gets you the phone number, nothing more. When most Cochabambinos earn less than US $100 per month, this is prohibitively expensive. Cell phones, bad for the environment as they are, are a cheaper option.
Many transactions in Bolivia, especially those for larger amounts, are done in U.S. dollars. Rent is paid in dollars. Houses and cars are purchased and college tuition is paid, all in dollars. Many people, especially those with a higher salary, are paid in dollars. At the supermarket, where richer people shop, the cash register provides the total in both dollars and Bolivianos. When I use my ATM card to make a withdrawal from my checking account, I can choose to withdraw dollars or Bolivianos. People with better jobs are often paid in dollars. I dont know the reason for this, except that it´s much more practical to pay large sums in dollars, as the largest Boliviano bill is 200 Bs, or about US $27. You would need a huge wad of Bolivianos to buy a used car, for example.
Gary does most of our shopping at the local markets, rather than at the supermarkets. Nearly all the food here is fresh: freshe fruit, fresh vegetables and fresh grains. There is little prepared food here. Bolivians don´t seem to buy canned soups or other prepared foods, and the result is that we eat a lot of delicious, fresh foods. Unlike in the U.S., fresh food costs much less than the few processed or prepared items that are available here. This is the way it should be!
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Off to Brazil!
Tonight we´ll take a night bus to Santa Cruz, a city to the east of here, and from there we´ll take a 24-hour train ride through the jungle to Brazil! We are headed for Brasilia, the capital, where we will attend a four-day copper anniversary party hosted by my UWC friends Christian (from Denmark) and Camila (from Brazil). On the way we will visit the Pantanal, a region known for its wildlife. I´m hoping to see a capybara, the world´s largest rodent. And I´m curious to see how it will be to travel in a country where I speak nothing of the language. I can understand some Portuguese, but I can´t speak it at all, except for a few attempts to put "ao" on the end of Spanish words.
We almost didn´t get to go to Brazil, as we were denied visas. Unlike most of our European counterparts, Americans must have visas to go to Brazil. This is a reciprocal visa, that Brazil requires of us because we require it of them. The visa requirements for Americans are especially stringent. We must pay $130 each, submit photos (which are used for nothing), and answer several questions about whether we have ever been communists, nazis, or whether we plan to engage in polygamy or genocide. These requirements are all reciprocal, and I recognize the questions word for word from U.S. immigration applications. We were denied visas because we could not produce return plane tickets to the U.S. (Gary and I bought one way tickets to South America, not knowing how long we would stay). We visited the Brazilian consulate and asked and asked, but the denial was final.
Luckily, my friend Camila, whose anniversary party we will attend, works for the Brazilian Foreign Service, and she was able to put in a good word for us. Our case was reconsidered and after a wait we were granted visas yesterday.
The harsher requirements for U.S. citizens is not unique to Brazil. Since the U.S. is extremely harsh on most would-be visitors from the world, and the U.S. refuses to give visitor visas to most citizens of Bolivia, Chile, Brazil or most any other country in Latin America, many of these countries impose reciprocal requirements on U.S. citizens, requirements that they do not impose on Canadians and most Europeans. Chile imposes a $100 entry fee on U.S. citizens who enter by air. Bolivia requires visas for us, at $100 each. Paraguay and Brazil require visas of U.S. citizens but not of most others. The U.S. is not the only developed country that imposes harsh visa requirements on people from undeveloped countries, but the U.S. is a bully on a world scale, and that is why these requirements are imposed upon us while our British house mates travel freeley through the same countries with no need for visas.
In any case, with a little help from a friend we are off to Brazil tomorrow! Afterwards, we will return to Bolivia.
In other news:
I have learned that I can exchange English conversation practice for almost anything ... such as therapeutic massage, and meals at an Iranian restaurant. Gary and I went to the Iranian restaurant last week and watched a belly dancing performance, special for Bolivian fathers´ day. The owner is from Iran but has lived in Bolivia for 23 years.
We´ve been enjoying fresh figs! They are so much better than dried figs. I even found a fig tree where I can pick them sometimes!
Last week was Semana Santa, or holy week. The tradition here is that people visit twelve churches, and also give up meat for a few days (no doubt a big sacrifice for folks used to the diet here!) There are processions, and people hike up the huge hill near our house to the statue of Jesus on the top. (El Cristo). I hiked up to the Cristo early Friday morning, and enjoyed the view of Cochabamba and the surrounding mountains, and hiking with hundreds of other people.
Not part of Holy Week, Gary went to an all night sweat lodge, the Mexican-style temascal, on Thursday. It was a special lodge for the equinox. Gary goes to a temascal every other week in Cochabamba. The lodge is run by a man from Mexico, but Gary recognizes many of the traditions from Lakota-style lodges that he used to attend in the U.S. The temascal group even sings a song that Gary knows, in Lakota.
Over Easter weekend, Gary and I had an opportunity to stay in a beautiful house in the country, between the villages of Tiquipaya and Apote, about thirty minutes from here. The house was rented by someone in our program, who left early, and so we took the opportunity to spend a couple of beautiful days there. It´s hard to describe how beautiful the house and garden (complete with a family who takes care of the garden) are, so I´ll include a few pictures. More are on our flickr site, http://www.flickr.com/photos/kimigary. Our friends from Cochabamba came out Saturday evening for a barbecue, and we had an Easter egg hunt for chocolate eggs!
The country house is owned by a well-known doctor in Cochabamba, whose family is Palestinian. On a visit to Palestine many years ago, the doctor met Yassar Arafat, who gave him a tiny cactus which grew into the one pictured here.
We almost didn´t get to go to Brazil, as we were denied visas. Unlike most of our European counterparts, Americans must have visas to go to Brazil. This is a reciprocal visa, that Brazil requires of us because we require it of them. The visa requirements for Americans are especially stringent. We must pay $130 each, submit photos (which are used for nothing), and answer several questions about whether we have ever been communists, nazis, or whether we plan to engage in polygamy or genocide. These requirements are all reciprocal, and I recognize the questions word for word from U.S. immigration applications. We were denied visas because we could not produce return plane tickets to the U.S. (Gary and I bought one way tickets to South America, not knowing how long we would stay). We visited the Brazilian consulate and asked and asked, but the denial was final.
Luckily, my friend Camila, whose anniversary party we will attend, works for the Brazilian Foreign Service, and she was able to put in a good word for us. Our case was reconsidered and after a wait we were granted visas yesterday.
The harsher requirements for U.S. citizens is not unique to Brazil. Since the U.S. is extremely harsh on most would-be visitors from the world, and the U.S. refuses to give visitor visas to most citizens of Bolivia, Chile, Brazil or most any other country in Latin America, many of these countries impose reciprocal requirements on U.S. citizens, requirements that they do not impose on Canadians and most Europeans. Chile imposes a $100 entry fee on U.S. citizens who enter by air. Bolivia requires visas for us, at $100 each. Paraguay and Brazil require visas of U.S. citizens but not of most others. The U.S. is not the only developed country that imposes harsh visa requirements on people from undeveloped countries, but the U.S. is a bully on a world scale, and that is why these requirements are imposed upon us while our British house mates travel freeley through the same countries with no need for visas.
In any case, with a little help from a friend we are off to Brazil tomorrow! Afterwards, we will return to Bolivia.
In other news:
I have learned that I can exchange English conversation practice for almost anything ... such as therapeutic massage, and meals at an Iranian restaurant. Gary and I went to the Iranian restaurant last week and watched a belly dancing performance, special for Bolivian fathers´ day. The owner is from Iran but has lived in Bolivia for 23 years.
We´ve been enjoying fresh figs! They are so much better than dried figs. I even found a fig tree where I can pick them sometimes!
Last week was Semana Santa, or holy week. The tradition here is that people visit twelve churches, and also give up meat for a few days (no doubt a big sacrifice for folks used to the diet here!) There are processions, and people hike up the huge hill near our house to the statue of Jesus on the top. (El Cristo). I hiked up to the Cristo early Friday morning, and enjoyed the view of Cochabamba and the surrounding mountains, and hiking with hundreds of other people.
Not part of Holy Week, Gary went to an all night sweat lodge, the Mexican-style temascal, on Thursday. It was a special lodge for the equinox. Gary goes to a temascal every other week in Cochabamba. The lodge is run by a man from Mexico, but Gary recognizes many of the traditions from Lakota-style lodges that he used to attend in the U.S. The temascal group even sings a song that Gary knows, in Lakota.
Over Easter weekend, Gary and I had an opportunity to stay in a beautiful house in the country, between the villages of Tiquipaya and Apote, about thirty minutes from here. The house was rented by someone in our program, who left early, and so we took the opportunity to spend a couple of beautiful days there. It´s hard to describe how beautiful the house and garden (complete with a family who takes care of the garden) are, so I´ll include a few pictures. More are on our flickr site, http://www.flickr.com/photos/kimigary. Our friends from Cochabamba came out Saturday evening for a barbecue, and we had an Easter egg hunt for chocolate eggs!
The country house is owned by a well-known doctor in Cochabamba, whose family is Palestinian. On a visit to Palestine many years ago, the doctor met Yassar Arafat, who gave him a tiny cactus which grew into the one pictured here.
Monday, March 10, 2008
Lidia, Bolivian police and DV, a bit of culture
The best thing that happened in the last two weeks is that we raised more than $4,000 for Lidia, a young Bolivian woman who works as a domestic worker earning less than $100 per month, to attend nursing school. Thank you to everyone who donated, and especially to my mom for receiving all of the checks and depositing them for me! (As well as for handling all of Gary´s and my financial affairs while we are traveling. A trip like this would not be possible without her help!)
Lidia starts nursing school today, something that would be impossible without this help. I saw her this morning, and she is so excited!
The worst thing that happened was that we had to intervene when a woman was being beaten by her husband. Our three house mates and Gary and I share a yard with a woman and her husband and one-year-old son, who live in the house behind ours. Last weekend, the woman´s husband went out of town and the woman attended our back yard barbecue. She laughed and ate and had a glass of wine with us for about an hour, while her son slept.
The husband somehow found out, apparently from a neighbor who is spying on the woman. The husband called her telling her that it was scandalous and that he would beat her when he got home.
We encouraged the woman to get a restraining order, but the police refused to help her get one. They said that if there was any trouble, the neighbors would help.
So we all went to bed very nervous on the night that the husband was expected home. Fortunately, our housemates Mac and Miranda stay up late, and they were awake when the husband showed up at 2 a.m. Miranda woke Gary and me up and we went into the back yard to listen. I heard the sound of smacks, and the woman crying. We called 911 and asked for the police to come right away.
Meanwhile, the noise continued. The four of us walked back toward the house, until the husband saw us and shouted, "What do you want." I said that we wanted to check that everything was ok. He sneered "everything is fine." I shouted for the woman, and she came out of the house carrying her son. She said that the husband´s parents were on their way. The husband followed her into the driveway, shouting, and we followed. He shouted at her, "Are you going to make a complaint?" and she shouted "yes, because you have hit our son." She asked me to call her sister, which I did, and I also called the police again. They did not seem to be in a hurry.
The husband´s parents showed up, and there was more yelling, and then the woman´s sister arrived with her two children. The husband started to leave and just then the police finally showed up. Upon seeing that the husband was leaving, the police promptly left without getting any information.
The woman told us that he had hit her while she was holding the baby, and in doing so he hit the baby too. He also prevented her from leaving the house until we came.
The good news is that the husband has moved out, and the woman is filing for divorce. Divorce is legal in Bolivia, but you have to show cause. She will have to prove that there was physical violence. Fortunately, the husband has been going around bragging about how he had to hit her because she misbehaved while he was away. Meanwhile, the woman has bought her very own barbecue grill.
I read in the newspaper that 70% of Bolivian women are victims of abuse, either physical or psychological.
The most fun thing that happened this week is that we celebrated Miranda´s birthday. Kristina baked a cake, and then we went out for Indian food and then dancing. My house mates decided to dress me up in some different clothes. For the past five months, my wardrobe has consisted of three sleeveless shirts, one Peruvian sweater, one fleece pullover and two pairs of pants, all very boring and practical. So it was a lot of fun to go out dressed in something else.
And we´ve had a bit of culture. We went to the Cine Center cinema complex to see Love in the Time of Cholera. Like most movies here, it was in English with Spanish subtitles. At home, we watched a Bolivian movie. And we saw the Russian Ballet on Ice, El Cascanueces (the Nutcracker) which made me want to ice skate, and we went to a concert of traditional Bolivian music, performed in a huge beautiful old theatre.
There is an elderly Bolivian woman who lives in our neighborhood, and who surprises us by speaking perfect English, with no accent. It turns out that she studied in Canada. A young Canadian couple lived in our house before Gary and I moved in, and the elderly woman was so pleased to meet people from Canada that they talked and talked. The next time they saw the woman, she said, "And where are you girls from?" They realized that she has Alzheimer´s disease or something similar, and that they can surprise and please her again and again by being Canadian.
That´s all for now. We´re planning to take a small trip over Easter weekend, and a longer trip to Brazil in April!
Lidia starts nursing school today, something that would be impossible without this help. I saw her this morning, and she is so excited!
The worst thing that happened was that we had to intervene when a woman was being beaten by her husband. Our three house mates and Gary and I share a yard with a woman and her husband and one-year-old son, who live in the house behind ours. Last weekend, the woman´s husband went out of town and the woman attended our back yard barbecue. She laughed and ate and had a glass of wine with us for about an hour, while her son slept.
The husband somehow found out, apparently from a neighbor who is spying on the woman. The husband called her telling her that it was scandalous and that he would beat her when he got home.
We encouraged the woman to get a restraining order, but the police refused to help her get one. They said that if there was any trouble, the neighbors would help.
So we all went to bed very nervous on the night that the husband was expected home. Fortunately, our housemates Mac and Miranda stay up late, and they were awake when the husband showed up at 2 a.m. Miranda woke Gary and me up and we went into the back yard to listen. I heard the sound of smacks, and the woman crying. We called 911 and asked for the police to come right away.
Meanwhile, the noise continued. The four of us walked back toward the house, until the husband saw us and shouted, "What do you want." I said that we wanted to check that everything was ok. He sneered "everything is fine." I shouted for the woman, and she came out of the house carrying her son. She said that the husband´s parents were on their way. The husband followed her into the driveway, shouting, and we followed. He shouted at her, "Are you going to make a complaint?" and she shouted "yes, because you have hit our son." She asked me to call her sister, which I did, and I also called the police again. They did not seem to be in a hurry.
The husband´s parents showed up, and there was more yelling, and then the woman´s sister arrived with her two children. The husband started to leave and just then the police finally showed up. Upon seeing that the husband was leaving, the police promptly left without getting any information.
The woman told us that he had hit her while she was holding the baby, and in doing so he hit the baby too. He also prevented her from leaving the house until we came.
The good news is that the husband has moved out, and the woman is filing for divorce. Divorce is legal in Bolivia, but you have to show cause. She will have to prove that there was physical violence. Fortunately, the husband has been going around bragging about how he had to hit her because she misbehaved while he was away. Meanwhile, the woman has bought her very own barbecue grill.
I read in the newspaper that 70% of Bolivian women are victims of abuse, either physical or psychological.
The most fun thing that happened this week is that we celebrated Miranda´s birthday. Kristina baked a cake, and then we went out for Indian food and then dancing. My house mates decided to dress me up in some different clothes. For the past five months, my wardrobe has consisted of three sleeveless shirts, one Peruvian sweater, one fleece pullover and two pairs of pants, all very boring and practical. So it was a lot of fun to go out dressed in something else.
And we´ve had a bit of culture. We went to the Cine Center cinema complex to see Love in the Time of Cholera. Like most movies here, it was in English with Spanish subtitles. At home, we watched a Bolivian movie. And we saw the Russian Ballet on Ice, El Cascanueces (the Nutcracker) which made me want to ice skate, and we went to a concert of traditional Bolivian music, performed in a huge beautiful old theatre.
There is an elderly Bolivian woman who lives in our neighborhood, and who surprises us by speaking perfect English, with no accent. It turns out that she studied in Canada. A young Canadian couple lived in our house before Gary and I moved in, and the elderly woman was so pleased to meet people from Canada that they talked and talked. The next time they saw the woman, she said, "And where are you girls from?" They realized that she has Alzheimer´s disease or something similar, and that they can surprise and please her again and again by being Canadian.
That´s all for now. We´re planning to take a small trip over Easter weekend, and a longer trip to Brazil in April!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
