To Uyuni! Oops!... To Torotoro!

So by now, many of you have seen the pictures of Torotoro National Park from April 4th and 5th. (Fun fact: Torotoro, when translated from Quechua, means something like Mud-mud.  Repeating the word at the end of the initial word simply adds quantity or intensity to the word--meaning, there is a lot of whatever they were describing in that particular place... in this case: mud.)

It was a holiday weekend and originally, Mike and I had planned on visiting Uyuni to see the famous Salt Flats.  So, on Thursday night, we packed everything up and Mike set his alarm clock for 4:30 because our flight was to leave at 6:30am and we wanted to make sure we had plenty of time to shower, recheck our gear, and make it to the airport without rushing around.  I asked him if he wanted me to set a back-up alarm, but he said he had it, and at that point I figured setting a back-up alarm would just show mistrust, so I let it go.  We went to sleep peacefully, knowing that we wouldn't get much sleep, but that it would probably be enough.  Some time later, I felt Mike nudging me and heard him saying my name.  I hadn't heard the alarm clock, but was content to find I felt more rested than I thought I would be; although, something seemed off... when I opened my eyes, some rays of morning sun were coming through the window.  When I asked Mike what time it was, we both freaked out-- it was almost 6:00am!  Poor Mike had set his alarm for 4:30PM, not 4:30AM.  (Who could be mad, though?  We've all done it at least once.  Plus, there wasn't time to be upset.)

We wheeled out of bed, changed, and grabbed some food as we ran out of the house within seven minutes.  I locked the door as Mike rushed down our steep hill to wave down a taxi, then sprinted down after him, praying I wouldn't trip and roll down the rest of the way.  Luckily, the taxi driver was expedient as well--even if he did get pulled over by a policeman (not for speeding... something about his ID or license...) in a line of other cars on the way to El Alto.  He must have had a silver tongue or a bribe or something, because we were on our way within a couple of minutes and arrived in front of the airport by 6:25am.  (A record, I'm sure of it.)

We sprinted into the airport, were allowed to hop to the front of the winding line by friendly patrons who had more time, reached the hostess, told her of our flight and dilemma (granted, we left out the part about the alarm), and... were denied getting onto the airplane to Uyuni.  It was the last flight from La Paz to Uyuni that day.  We weren't going to make the tour we had signed up for.  We pleaded and inquired and searched for another way, but there was none to be found that morning.  Mike felt terrible, which was just as disheartening to see written so plainly in his posture and face.

Well, I though about how I had been wanting to see Torotoro for a while, because it's littered with naturally well-preserved dinosaur footprints.  (DINOSAUR FOOTPRINTS.  Who wouldn't want to see those?!)  So, I asked him if he thought there was a way to get to Cochabamba and find a tour through the National Park.  He gained some hope from the prospect and we began to search for a way to make that work.  By 7:00am, praise God, we had managed to arrange a private tour and get our plane tickets simply changed without any fees.

In one hour, I had had one of the most eventful mornings of my time in Bolivia so far.  At this point, though, our flight wouldn't leave until that evening; so, we took the rest of the morning to shower, make pancakes, repack our things, shop a bit around the market, take a nap, and eat something for dinner before restfully taking our time up to the airport.

Day 1

Our tour guide picked us up from our hostel in Cochabamba and we began our four to five hour journey from Cochabamba to Torotoro National Park in the back of a minibus.  Once there, he took us to a restaurant, where we had a filling lunch and took our things to the room he had booked for us. Unfortunately for me, somehow diesel fuel had been spilled on my backpack, and unknowingly, I had set my jacket and scarf on the bag, and for the whole weekend, our room, my things, and I smelled strongly of the pungent fumes.  Oh well, at least we had arrived to Torotoro relatively smoothly.

Found in the bathroom at the hostel.

In afternoon, we went on a cave tour.  While this was an incredible tour, I certainly don't think it was well-advertised.  The presence of families with small children, cholitas in sandals, some with children on their backs, and large groups of teenagers and other tourists led me to believe that the tour would be similar to what I know cave tours to be in the US: a walkway with a railing and a guide to make corny jokes and provide explanations.  I expected it to be a nice event, but nothing too adventurous.  Ha.

There were no designated pathways, so much of the tour was walking, hopping, crawling, climbing, and lowering yourself from rock-to-rock.  There were also algae-slick, smooth, sloped rock faces that you had to slide down on the soles of your shoes at times (if you were to slide down on your pants, it would be hard to tell if you had sat in dirt or gotten quite frightened and simply lost control of your bowels).  Most of the time, at the end of the chute there was a puddle that you had to avoid, adding to the complexity of the situation.

Some places had a roped fixed into the rock, so you could repel yourself down especially large, textured, or slippery segments.  There were also places that didn't have a rope or any type of support, which forced you to climb up semi-slimy wall faces with only your courage and any dexterity you might have.  At some points, the tour required you to lie on your stomach and snake your way through sand and rocks, or half-crawl, half-creep your way through rock panels that were too close to pass through normally.

Toward the end of the tour we climbed down to see a lake that pooled at a lower point of the cave.  It  made for a brief, but lovely break in the escapade.  It even had eye-less, ghostly fish!  Then, we climbed up to see the waterfall that created the lake with it's dark, pooled water.  After a few moments we had to continue the climb and finish the tour.  This included more segments of cautious climbing and at one point, there was a horizontal rope affixed to the sloping, lubricious cave "floor".  There were a couple of points I hesitated in self-doubt, but a couple of firm guides shouting, "Vamos!" did the trick and I scurried up or down the difficult parts without much thought.

 

By the end of it all, I was just glad to be out of the cave.  Although, I found I had significantly more energy when we did leave the cool, dark adventure tour.  --Our guide even showed us some dinosaur footprints on the way back to the small town.

Day 2

On Easter Sunday, the focus of the day was to check out some dinosaur footprints, but first, we woke up just after sunrise to take a small hike to see the area a bit better.  On this day, Jalapeño, my plastic, green dinosaur, decided to come along as well.

I thought the landscape was simply beautiful.  Plus, the way the mountains here had formed reminded me of the backs of dinosaurs.  Jalapeño seemed to enjoy himself as well.  You will see him in most of the pictures... actually, the other people on the tour with us later that day really got a kick out of seeing me take pictures the tiny, green dinosaur, and a few people wanted pictures of me holding him --awkward! 

Jalapeño is here as well, but you'll have to look closely to find him!

After finding a shop that had breakfast for sale on Easter Sunday, we piled into an off-roading minivan to tour some more of the valley.  Here we got to see both herbivore and carnivore footprints that were fossilised into the ground before the dinosaurs became completely extinct.  The scenery in this part of the valley was absolutely stunning as well.

If you can pick out the three-toed footprint to the left of my right foot in the photo below, our guide told us this type of print belonged to a carnivore.

Below are some herbivore tracks.  Michael could have sat in one as comfortably as one sits in a beanbag chair.

Jalapeño really paled in comparison to this herbivore's footprint, but he did love the view that followed.  In the rainy season, the guide told us that the area in which we were walking becomes a cascade of waterfalls that stream into a river.

Then, the main attraction: a tyrannosaurus rex footprint.  Jalapeño is at the tip of some space between the second and third toe, but wow!  This is where a man and some others asked me to stand with Jalapeño, so they could have a size gauge.  This print was easily four to five feet long and perhaps two to three feet wide.  It was amazing.

Due to the currents caused by the rainy season, some parts of the riverbed were formed into natural bridges that were walkable.  Some parts were quite thin, but this section actually held in place, allowing groups of people to use it without problem.

After seeing the massive footprint of the king of dinosaurs, what could be more or just as impressive?  Well, this view, for one:

As a bonus, we then walked down the stone stairway (that was built into the cliffside) and got to swim in the waterfall that you see in the picture above.  The picture below was another waterfall that we passed by on the way. 

We also had the chance to see other stunning views, flowery vegetation, ancient rock paintings, and more waterfalls on our walk back to Torotoro.  The waterfalls that we swam in were warm, even though the water pools beneath them were quite chilly.  I expect the cloudless day had something to do with it, especially since the waterfalls were high enough to soak up more of the rays that didn't quite reach the pools in the gorge.

When we returned to Torotoro, we had just enough time to collect our things and eat lunch before climbing onto the huge tour bus that would return us to Cochabamba.  In the giant bus, the four-to-five hour trip turned into a six-hour trip, but after the hike, that was fine, too.  The guide was friendly,  informative, and honest; the National Park did not disappoint; and we did not miss our flight back to La Paz.  Definitely a successful weekend overall.

*The photos were a combination of memories taken by Michael Niemann and me.

Mardi-naval, Carni-gras, and Everything in Between

Eight months in and counting... that is, counting the number of kids in their parents' truck beds, running around the towns loaded with cans of spray foam and sheathing water balloons and water guns beneath their ponchos until the opportune moment.  From Thursday the 12th to Tuesday the 17th (of February), South America celebrates the pre-Lenten season with a huge party.  They call it Carnival, we call it Mardi-Gras, but however you nominate it, one might see it as the most festive event of the year in this part of the world.

Granted, as with every holiday, there are people who start early and don't stop until they're blue in the face and even then you have to wonder sometimes...  As for me, the festival began with Comadres on Thursday; a day originally intended to encourage a mother to celebrate godmother-ship with their child's or children's godmother.  Now, it's encouraged for every woman to take a night out with her best girls.  Without a doubt, this should be adopted into the American holiday calendar.  (There is a Copadres, for father-godfather relationships, too.  It falls on the Thursday before Comadres, but as it is, Commadres is a bigger event.)

A bit out of order, my workplace celebrates the Challa (a day of blessings) on the Friday after Comadres, but it's normally celebrated on the Tuesday after Carnival weekend (known as Fat Tuesday back home), so I'll go into more detail on this event soon, but at work, we "blessed" our good fortunes with food, streamers, confetti, and a firecracker or two.

After the fiesta, Mike and I made last-minute plans to go see the big Carnival parade in Oruro, Bolivia.  Now, Mike had told me that Oruro has two seasons, where the rest of Bolivia more or less has four: Carnival season and not-Carnival season.  Therefore, I was expecting this enormous party, and... I wasn't disappointed.

Our tour bus left La Paz right after breakfast at 4am on Friday morning.  When we arrived in Oruro around 8am, we rubbed excitement back into our eyes, received a care pack with a poncho (perfect for tourists, since gringos are favourite targets for the young-and-armed), a decorated eye-mask, a cd of the songs from the parade, a mini-squirt gun, and a whistle (for participating in the parade).  We would stay as a herd-- I mean, group for the entire day, which was honestly fine by me since this season is known for pick-pockets and other mischief.

Once we got to our tiny seats (perhaps about a foot across, if that... without any extra room and EVERY seat was filled in our area) and all of the tour groups had sorted out where their people would go, Mike and I got to enjoy our front-row seats to all of the chaos.  Traditional dances that told folk stories, hand-made, extravagant costumes, manufactured, vibrant headpieces and accompaniments, venders selling sweets, booze, and food--believe it or not, not ONE vender was selling water...-- and of course the hundred of musicians that marched and danced by in their marching bands.  From the time we arrived at 8am until the time we left, around 8pm, the dancers and musicians never stopped, even for the downpour that lasted for a couple of hours in the middle of the day.  We took so many pictures.  Photo credit goes to Mike for most of these pictures.

   

Each group is a "fraternity".  As the families and individuals in each fraternity grow and dance together, the sizes of their groups increased with them.  Children danced and paraded beside of elders,  young adults blended with the mixture of ages that surrounded them, twirling their costumes together in unison until you forget that the different ages mean anything at all.

The crowd participated in the party, too.  Spray foam wars broke out every so often among the spectators, making everyone more lively and more willing to participate in the day. --You just had to watch out for your eyes!  That was always the first target... I looked like a red, puffy, drenched mess when I left the parade-- even with my poncho.

Of the dances, I have two favourites: Caporales (bottom left) and Tinku (bottom right).  Both are traditional Andean dances and have strong ties to the history of Bolivia and the culture of its people.

The Caporales is important because the women can dance as the men do and wear traditional men's clothing.  It's an engaging dance that relates back to a character "Caporal" who was an overseer of black slaves, but it also is tied to religion (somehow).  The idea, as I understand it is to dance for the saint that protects the miners, as mining is a significant industry in Bolivia.  I'm honestly not sure how the two ideas were eventually tied together, but the dance is progressive, aggressive, and an utterly memorising experience.

The Tinku, on the other hand, has a darker story behind it-- and it's my absolute favorite.  As it's said, once a year in the springtime, everyone in the town would get together to drink, celebrate, and fight.  I've been told that the fights always resulted in at least one death and much blood was shed; however, these were positive results for a couple of reasons:
1) The people fighting had had an argument sometime that year, and so they were allowed to fight on this day until there was a winner.  Once the fight was over, it was over and done.  There would no longer be any bad blood between the contestants.
2) Any blood that was spilled on this day was considered a blood sacrifice to Pachamama, or Mother Earth, as we would say.  If a person sacrificed his or her life, the gift to Pachamama was honored because it was all the greater gift.

If it's not obvious, no one dies in this parade because they are fighting each other in a dance.  The modern rendition of this ritual is an artistic representation of the history behind the dance.  Thus, the movements are swift and slow.  They beat on the ground with their bare hands (which looks great in the rain!), jump, walk backward, and lean forward while swaying their arms behind them like wind-up toys.  The dance caught my eye because it's magnificently animated and is nothing like the hip-shaking dances that many of the other performers have mastered.  When I first saw it during a practice performance earlier this year, I liked it because they reminded me of storybook characters.  As it turns out, I wasn't too far off the mark.

    

By the way, there are also "osos" (bears) and "ositos" (little bears).  On two specific occasions, the crowd would chant requests to the performers.  My favourite chant was "O-so! O-so! O-so!" when the bears came around and they would shake and dance for us.  The other was "Be-so! Be-so!" ("Kiss! Kiss!") when a mini-skirt performer passed by.  Sometimes, they would oblige the crowd by dramatically blowing a kiss toward that section.



The entire day was exhausting, but fantastic.  The colors, the costumes, the symbols, the history... everything shuffled and stepped its way into my memory.  We returned to La Paz a little around midnight and, with my puffy-red eyes, and slicked-back hair, I felt a lot like this guy:

.  

AS IF THE FESTIVITIES WERE OVER! Nope.  So, on Sunday we definitely rested.  Shopped, cooked, had chocolates for breakfast to pay respects to the Valentine's Day that passed, and had a water-gun fight in honor of Carnival weekend.  While I didn't get pictures of the water dripping from the ceiling and streaming along the walls and windows of the apartment, I do have this for you:

 .

Monday was also a relaxing day.  This prepared us for Tuesday, the true Challa day, where we were invited to lunch with our landlord (which also means his family and friends and sometimes another tenant or two.)  However, before the meal, Mike and I met Antonio (our landlord) outside of the apartments to bless the homes--with fire, water, alcohol, and flowers.  That's what you can see happening in the photos below.

The sound of firecrackers chorused around the city for the entire day as people blessed their home.  Rubbing alcohol and wine were poured on the ground at the corners of every entrance and flower petals were sprinkled in front of the doorways and at the corner of the doors as well.  There were also streamers wrapped around the top of every doorway (I had to sit on Mike's shoulders to get ours to wrap around the spikes on top of our door.)  All of this in honor of Pachamama (Mother Earth), for what she had given everyone for the past year and what she will bless everyone with this year.

The meal itself was a joyful affair that lasted the entire afternoon and into the evening.  The courses of the meal came in stages: a salad while we waited for the sausages to cook, then sausage sandwiches with rice with cheese.  The main meat was a steak cut into strips and served in stages, so eventually, everyone was well-content with the experience.  Every five minutes, someone would break the constant flow of chatter to raise their glasses for the fine meal, people, or day.  Each cheer was readily accepted and honored.  I have no doubt that Pachamama was smiling on the festivities for that day and the festival as a whole, because it seems that the people here readily take part in every aspect of honoring her.

Hurricane Holidays

Phew!  It's already the end of January?  The last two months have been a whirlwind of family, friends, colleagues, students, landlords, and apartment buddies; dinners, side-trips, apologies, and work.  Who knows?  Maybe a cat will get thrown into the mix before long, too! (Granted, we still need to talk to Antonio, our landlord, about it...)  Let's begin with the december holidays: Christmas and New Year's Eve.

Some gifts from Mike's family,
assembled... in January.

I have had about four "Christmases" this year:

• First, IE had a staff Christmas dinner which was delicious and fun.  
• Then, Mike and I celebrated Christmas over a weekend in December because we would be traveling to the states separately and returning (hopefully) in time to celebrate the New Year together in La Paz.  On "Christmas Eve", we made dinner together (red wine-soaked steaks with new potatoes and other vegetables) and put our presents under our fig tree for the morning.  In the morning, we opened the gifts and went to see the latest (and last) installation of The Hobbit. I was entirely too excited about it.  That evening we danced and watched a movie.  It was really nice.
• Finally, I had actual Christmas with my immediate family, cousins, friends, and my brother's new fiancee!
• After it all, Mike and I had a second Christmas in January, when some packages from Mike's family made it through to the Gravity office, so we got to celebrate with foods and gifts and a tiny pine tree.  Truly, there were packages from October to December in that "kit".

Christmas back home was absolutely fantastic.  I greeted my family in a Christmas elf hat that shined, "Feliz Navidad" on the front.  We were all thrilled to be a whole family, in person, again.  I mean, Skyping them during Thanksgiving dinner in November was wonderful, but there's really nothing like being there.  Even Dad couldn't contain his smile!  It was fantastic.

    

                           

Not to mention, Max decided that he would propose to his then-girlfriend on the Tuesday before Christmas (she wanted to do a dress-up dinner, so he thought it would work well--and it did!).  I was so excited that I told ALL of my students at IE before I left and even mentioned it to a couple on one of the plane-rides to the US.  THRILLED.  So, we got to add in Max and his FIANCEE to the mix; it was a joyful setting indeed.

While I was only home for five days, it was entirely worth it.  Other travellers warned me both ways-- that it could feel way too short of a time to spend with them and I would miss them more when I left, and that any longer than ten days would feel too long.  True, I didn't get to see everyone I wanted to see or do everything I wanted to do (I haven't been lap-swimming since before I originally left for Bolivia and I'm still trying to fill that exercise hole!), but five days was enough for me to get a positive, non-restless taste of everyone and still miss them.  I am definitely excited to see them in June!
                                                                              ~~~

The week after Christmas, I was back to work at IE, but with the New Year holiday approaching, it was a short work week for me.  I was quite thankful for this, as returning to the altitude in La Paz had no ill-effect other than fatigue.  It was incredibly difficult for me to get up in the morning, even if I slept for 10 - 12 hours (this is normally UNHEARD of for me).  Nonetheless, I managed.

As the next holiday approached, Mike wasn't sure if he would return by New Year's Eve due to a complication, but everything ended up working out in spite of it all!  He arrived on New Year's Eve morning and for that day and the next few, we were stranded on a wifi-less island with all or most of our friends out-of-town for the holidays.  That night was pretty low-key: we shopped for food and "lucky" underwear for the New Year (it was being sold EVERYWHERE-- a red and gold Bolivian tradition), we played chess to pop and jazz music, ate 12 grapes in 12 seconds (and cheated the whole time) at midnight, admired the sound of thousands of illegal fireworks showering the new sky like rain, and build a blanket fort, in which we slept for the night.

Over the next few days, we cooked, deep-cleaned the apartment, played chess, went shopping (for the apartment), and watched movies during this time.  We just tried to enjoy each other's company before we both returned to work.
                                                                              ~~~

January was filled with a lot of work.  English classes at the institute are in demand, as everyone seems to have some deadline or new resolution, and it's fantastic, but incredibly busy.  Still over the weekends, I've found time to escape it all with some people.

Groups practicing for Carnival in the rain.

For example, on a rainy Saturday in mid-January, I met up with a friend, Ramiro, to go watch the dancing groups practice their routines for Carnival (in mid-Febuary).  It was awesome!  Every dance has a story behind it because the movements and sequences are all based on one folkloric legend or another.  I think my favourite dance is the Tinku dance, which is actually supposed to be a fighting dance, but the version I saw wasn't violent and looked quite fun!  They used all three levels of dance-space and there were a lot of arm swinging and alternation--really elaborate.


I was also invited to "help out" a friend's friend with her documentary.  She needed to attend a gringo party to show the different types of things she's done while in Bolivia.  Basically, I got to go hang out with friends while Sisa filmed her documentary.  It was a relaxed evening and I love Ashley and Bill's apartment because of the fireplace! (It's more than difficult to light a fire when there's such little oxygen.)

Sisa and her camera crew.

A Scottish flag was gifted by Ashley (Scottish) to
Tomas (Chilean) during the festivities.

                                                                             ~~~

On another Saturday, Mike and I hiked La Muella Del Diablo a second time with one of my friends and cohorts, Lizzie and her husband, Lew.  Here are a couple of photos from that trip:

                                                                              ~~~

Last weekend, Mike and I went to see the Cascadas (waterfalls) in Coroico (we ended up seeing them on the second day).  The first night we were there, we stayed in Carlos' (a biking friend of Mike) house, much of which he decorated himself.  The lush vegetation surrounding the house was almost beyond imagination.  While there, we hiked and visited with two German friends whom we had gotten to know in La Paz.  It was a nice break from the city.

                

This is a banana plant; a hummingbird is
on the bottom, right side of the flower that
is dangling from the bananas.

Mike, protector of the Bolivian amazon.
(Unfortunately, not of the mosquitos!)

The second night in Coroico, we stayed in a hostel called "Sol y Luna".  They must have prided themselves on their gardening and water-piping systems, as the flowers were vibrant and abundant, the views from the rooms were breath-taking, and the in-ground pools (2) and hot tub (1) were luxuries that Mike and I weren't used to in chilly La Paz.

An example of natural piping.
(My dad would be pleased, I'm sure.)

A nearby view, on the way to the waterfalls.

We almost walked into a thunder and lightening storm,
 but turned around in time!

Some of the plants at the hostel had faces. ^-^

More plants!

                                                                                 ~~~

Most recently, a friend of mine, Lorea, is leaving La Paz, so we've been spending a lot of time with her lately.  She's moving from her internship with the German Embassy in La Paz to Quito, Equador to do more internship work.  I'll certainly miss her!

These pictures are from a dinner Mike and I had this past week.  After a few snafus, we finally got a chance to eat the prized, roasted chickens around 11pm.  It was still a really nice time!  Everyone was enjoying each other's company.

                           

Though rapid, it's been a memorable past couple of months.  I'm excited to see what Carnival, other side-trips, and my experience on the Death Road (I haven't been on it yet.) will entail.  June can wait a bit longer, but I have a feeling it's not going to!