Zebras Directing Traffic

Yes. That's what I said. Zebras were directing traffic today. They had red and green flags that they waved around haphazardly, during the busy hours down my street by Plaza España. Tiny Bolivian men and women, (which isn't saying much, because they're generally small in stature), dressed up in zebra costumes, directing cars. One of the zebras asked me if I needed to cross the street, which I did so I said yes, then the zebra proceeded to stop a single taxi so that I could pass. Thank you, zebra, I couldn't have done it without you. One of the zebras' flags was just zebra striped....I bet that got confusing. As I was walking back from the store I passed by a couple of zebras walking up the sidewalk, I guess on break, in full costume just chit-chatting away. Very surreal.

There is a guy that stands on a corner telling buses, minis, trufis and taxis which way to go. He watches and counts how many go in each direction so he can assume in which direction they'll be able to pick up more people. Drivers typically tip him for his good advice, and that is how he makes his living.

In the early 90's, when the Death Road was in full service (200-300 people a day), a man stood on one of the more dangerous blind corners and directed traffic with a red and green sign. Drivers tipped or gave food. It started a trend and seven more human traffic lights sprang up along the road.

In other news, I am officially a trained guide for the "World's Most Dangerous Road," I played paintball with the whole Gravity team and made 60 balls last 6 games and was one of the last on the field every game, and I did four runs down a very very very steep and gnarly downhill trail and lived to tell you about zebras directing traffic.

How Chloe has still not quite yet found her groove

Right now, enjoying a Sublime (by far my most favorite milk chocolate candy bar), while I wait for the chili to get done. It's impossible to cook beans in a timely manner at 13,000 ft. They've been boiling vigorously for almost 7 1/2 hours and they still have a slight crunch. Oh well, I've become accustomed to late dinners -- class gets done at 9PM and Phil usually gets back from guiding around 8:30/9PM.

I've been in Bolivia for 1 month and have accomplished very little. This is partly due to a week-long promotional tour of southern Bolivia and partly due to...I almost died. Not really, but it felt like it. First I got a parasite. No big deal, the farmacia hooked me up. Then I got a cold from my housemate who now has pneumonia. No big deal, colds don't bother me. Then my weakened immune system let my old parasite come back and give me a full fledged stomach infection. Constant nausea and zero appetite kept me from getting out of bed for 36 hours. Fortunately, Gravity has a doctor on speed dial that makes house calls. She came to my bedside, diagnosed me, wrote me a prescription, went and filled my prescription, and came back to deliver my meds...all for a mere $30. Not too shabby.

I am currently teaching 2 classes, with a few more to come in the next couple of weeks. I enjoy teaching, but 2-4 hours a day isn't enough to make me feel busy and too much to allow me to do much else. I am also training to guide trips on the World's Most Dangerous Road for Gravity, but that's slow-going as I only have 3 days off work, soon to be only 2. At least cost-of-living is mad cheap here. One night, Phil and I lamented at our poor control over our spending: I can't believe we spent 100 bs today!!! Oh yeh, that's only $15 between the two of us, and we bought breakfast, 2 litres of beer, dessert and coffee.

Have I ridden my bike yet? Only a bit on the world's most dangerous gravel road...not on any real trails. Have I climbed yet? Nope, but there are easily accessible sport routes 30 minutes from my house. I plan on going very very soon. What I have I been doing? Cooking, reading and playing on Rosetta Stone....oh and sometimes I teach. I'm all about vacation and relaxation but I have my limits and I am ready for my busier-than-Jesus-extreme-sports-Chloe groove to come back.

Off to eat some good ole' chili n' cornbread (no the altitude has not defeated me in baking).

Getting There: an Epic

I made it to La Paz.

There is only one bus company that goes straight to La Paz without connections in Puno. This was highly important as I had too much stuff to pay extra for, twice.

This bus leaves Lima at 9AM and doesn't get to Arequipa until 3AM, typically.

Phil and I called the station at 11PM to check on the arrival. The bus will be here about 8AM. They're working on a bridge and can't pass. Get here at 7AM.

We get to the station at 6:59AM. The bus will be here around 9AM or 10AM. He tries to explain but I can't make sense of his words. Something about cars. He brings someone who can speak English. Oh! Thats why it didn't make sense. Because it didn't make sense. There is a car race and they won't let any buses pass. Phil and I make ourselves beds out of the broken chairs and sleep through the wait.

Buses from Lima start arriving. Our bus pulls in at 12PM. Finally.

We make good time, but still barely make it to the border before they close at 7:30Pm. We pulled up at 7:30PM. Everyone ran to get their exit stamp. As Phil and I left a guy offered to be our guide. No thank you. I think I can follow the mass of people in front of us just fine. People ran across the border. Phil farted while running. A girl behind us couldn't stop laughing the remainder of the trip.

Nobody knew exactly where to go. This way! Everyone scrambled to follow the call. Then another This way! We finally made it. I shoved my entire visa application, vaccination records, photo, money, into the hands of the immigration officer, he took a brief glance while a woman started filling out my information for my tourist visa.

We arrive in La Paz at 10PM and I get a few days rest before traveling to Sucre, Potosí and Uyuni to pass out publicity materials for Gravity Bolivia.

It's a 12 hour night bus to Sucre. We leave at 7PM, arrive at 7AM. Phil and I get lucky. Our seats turn into beds and they provide us with the popular blanket of Bolivia which I affectionately call llama. Look! We each have our own llama! Sucre is beautiful.

The bus to Potosí wasn't long but the budget buses don't have bathrooms and I realized an hour in that I had a problem. I looked around at all the people the driver had picked up on the road. They stood in the aisle the entire trip. They made it much more difficult to walk up and politely ask the driver to pull over. I finally ran out of alternatives and it became painful. Phil, I'm doing it. I'm going up there. I climbed over people and their luggage. I knocked on the door to driver's pit. It only opened from the other side.

Are you getting out? Yes, if I can. I need to use the bathroom. I can't wait.

I will stop but I need to finish climbing this mountain first.

15 minutes later he points at an abandoned white cement building. Is there a bathroom there? No. Behind. Ah. Perfect, yes please! The people traveling in the driver's pit get out to let me through. The bus has parked just beyond the building so I get to run past all the passengers looking out at me in confusion. The view was great, actually. We were very high up and the mountains looked glorious and I felt glorious. I ran back triumphantly, thanked the driver, climbed back over people and fell back into my seat. We arrive in Potosí an hour later. The highest city in the world has tiny winding streets and gets bitterly cold outside. The tourist attraction is mine tours. We unfortunately only had time to pass out materials and catch a bus the next day to Uyuni.

Longer bus ride, similar bus, but I slept most of the way. Only half of the roads were paved. I managed to wake up for a cute canyon, some incredible rocks and an oasis. The rest was desert. The entrance to Uyuni is a cemetery and what seemed like miles of colorful plastic bags. Uyuni didn't look like much from the window. It wasn't that much up close either. Wide empty streets filled with dust. The real attraction were the outlying salt flats, Uyuni's primary income through tours and salt trade. There was one central plaza with a clock tower and trees that spanned two blocks. Tourists gathered here. All good hostels and restaurants were within 2 blocks in either direction.

We decided to take a train out of Uyuni. The time table outside the train office says Monday, Uyuni-Oruro, 01:45 + 1. What the hell does that mean? Everything is in military time, so 1:45AM, but what does +1 mean? Well we found out the hard way.

All Sunday afternoon we had been killing time eating, doing nothing, getting drinks, playing travel monopoly with 2 girls from Holland in the Extreme Fun Pub, ready to go to the train station 12AM Monday morning, buy our ticket and make our way home.

At 1AM, the ticket officer finally shows up. I'm in line behind a woman from Europe. She asked about my travel plans. I'm going back to La Paz. She looked confused. The train doesn't go to La Paz, but we're taking a bus from Oruro. She still looked confused. I asked if she was going to La Paz. No, I'm going to Tupiza. Wait, this train is going to Tupiza? Yes, I talked to the man at the train station yesterday and he said the timetables are all wrong. Tonight this train goes to Tupiza. Tupiza is south of Uyuni. La Paz is 12 hours north of Uyuni.

Phil and I ring the doorbell of a hostal at 2AM. We have to ring it twice. They let us keep our room throughout the following day as long as we don't tell the boss. The woman said, tell him you're only resting for a few hours, nothing more! We were grateful. The bus to Oruro leaves at 1:22AM and it gets freezing once the sun goes down. By 2AM, we're on our way. The train seats aren't comfortable, but the roads out of Uyuni are bad. As we near Oruro in the daylight, I see 3 buses among other vehicles stranded in the road. Wheels stuck. Thank you, train.

We take a taxi to the bus station. As we get out, we are immediately bombarded by salesmen and woman selling us tickets to La Paz. We manage to leave 15 minutes later on the next bus out. We stuffed empanadas into our mouths and fell back asleep.

We were so sick of sitting, we walked home from the bus station, a good hour's walk. Home sweet home.

2,335 meters above sea level

In my condo in Arequipa, I am the resident mom. Vanessa, Anna and I live and study together. We are the only 3 TEFL students this session. I am writing this 3 days before my TEFL class is over and I leave Peru.

One week before classes started, I finally hear from my director. I am getting my certification through Vía Lingua and there is a house reserved for TEFL students close to the school.

Four days later, I arrive in Lima, Peru with two new comrades I met in the airport. One, a surfer from California, the other a backpacker and army veteran from Israel. I was lucky to meet them. That night we went salsa dancing in Miraflores, Lima and the next day visited the South American Explorers' clubhouse and hung out in the local climbing gym.

I then proceeded to miss my bus to Arequipa. My taxi driver, however, turned out to be my guardian angel. He waited with me 20 minutes in the bus station to help me change my ticket, took me back to my hostel, then woke up at 5AM the next morning to take me back to the bus station. He didn't leave me until I was handing my ticket over to board the bus.

My first night in Arequipa I spent alone and downed an entire box of Kraft mac n' cheese by myself. The bus ride from Lima was 17 hours and they only fed us 2 meals.

Three weeks, 90 hours of grammar & pedagogy, 15 hours of observations and 8 hours of student teaching later, things are wrapping up and I'm preparing for my next adventure. My head is spinning with grammar terms, I've formed relationships I will never forget, eaten amazing food, walked endless hours on the hilly cobblestone rodes of Peru's white city, and drunk countless pisco sours (a drink made from a grape liquor, egg whites, and lime).