Friday, April 29, 2005

San Telmo

So I am in San Telmo district of Buenos Aires in Hostal San Telmo. The people in the hostal are great. I signed up for a football match tomorrow at 4pm on the local stadion. I don't know who plays with whom but everybody is so excited about the match that without much asking I told them to buy a ticket for me - it should be a nice experience with a really nice group of people.

Today I am totally relaxing. I got a bad cold - the cold morning in Cordoba did it. I slept 12 hours and feel a little better than yesterday evening. I got out of bed an noon and went to a cafe/bar on the nearest corner. What a great place this is! Looks like taken out from the beginning of the last century. The tango music played all the time is enchanting (I will have to get some CDs with tango). That improved my mood a little. I was reading the guidebook and it seems BA is very much like NYC: lots of cultural events every day, opera house, many many theaters, many restaurants (I found a Thai restaurant on the list - I hope to finally satisfy my craving for Thai food), bars, discos, lots of museums, parks, sports places... The city is huge. I think I will start with a tour around the city to get an idea where things are. Maybe I can find some bus tours like the ones done in big apple? The guidebook also says many things about security and about never, ever hailing a taxi on the street (because they cheat, rob people of their luggage, etc.) but use only radio-taxis if one must because even they are unreliable. There's a special office to report cases of being overcharged or cheated so it wasn't just my bad experience yesterday - it seems cheating and overcharging is the norm. How sad... Why do people who live in what still must be the richest country in South America, even with it's economic problems, fall into practices such as this? Why do those who have nothing are honest to the bone? One would think it would be the other way around. So I will have to continue to be cautious.

The other thing I noticed when I crossed the Bolivia/Argentina border is that everyone smokes cigarettes here, constantly. People smoke everywhere, absolutely everywhere: in stores, in the internet places, on buses, in public institutions such as banks, and most of all in restaurants and cafes where there's a thick cloud of smoke everpresent. I wouldn't mind it so much but I am, unfortunately, allergic to tabaco smoke and it seems it's the one allergy that is the strongest and doesn't want to go away. The only restaurants which are relatively smoke free are the places where old league spends their days - older men dressed in suits sipping espressos and capuchinos. They probably already had three heart attacks each and the lucky ones got by-passes so they stick to coffee only. I sometimes end in cafes such as this due to the smoke situation and they look at me from above the rim of their eyeglasses "What are you doing here bebe? Don't you see it's a place reserved for old lions only? And besides, it requires elegant dress and manners." And I look back at them and "tell" them "Pardon Senores but the circumstences forced me..." and I use my best table manners, skilfully operating with fork and knife with surgical precision, making sure no crumbs fall beyond the plate, chew small pieces elegantly and drink in small sips... In the end they nod with approval "She must be a royal one, fallen into poverty by the unexpected change of fortune." But that's when I am in a playful mood, when I am not I just "tell" them to piss off and don't judge people based on their clothes and age.

I am going to walk around in San Telmo. It's supposed to be an old part of the city with antigue stores, old cafes and art galleries.

Thursday, April 28, 2005

Rosario

Rosario turned out to be a very nice city. Very beautiful fin de sicle buildings, very nice parks, shopping centers, lots of cafes and cultural life seems to be booming. Che was born in Rosario and his house still stands but there's an insurance company residing now in the building (I read in the guidebook) so I didn't go to look for it. I would go if there was a museum or something like that there. The scenery outside the windows of the bus during my trip from Cordoba to Rosario and then to Buenos Aires resembles that of central Poland: fields of grain, little villages and cities along the way, there are trees along the roads leading to houses in the villages. There are evergreens and "leafy" trees. The only difference is the abundance of palm trees. I enjoyed the day but in general my experience in terms of people was not a very good one - taxi drivers try to cheat big time (they tell me the price in pesos and than claim they said it in dollars!), hotels want to charge more than what the guidebook says they should charge, people don't give me the right change in stores - it's rather tiring and embarassing to have to constantly be on guard... And it didn't happen to me earlier on such scale so I think I will just quicky go through the rest of Argentina. Don't cry for me Argentina... maybe some other time.. I want to meet with a few people in Buenos Aires whom I met in Peru: girls I met at the Inca Trail, Miriam, Laura and Lorena, and Juan Manuel whom I met on Isla del Sol in Bolivia. And then I will just hop down south - maybe it will be nicer in Patagonia.

Wednesday, April 27, 2005

Cordoba

I came to Cordoba in the morning, had a nap and toured the city. It's not as interesting as other cities I have seen. So far Argentina is to me the least interesting country of the countries I've seen when it comes to nature and cities but I haven't seen much yet. The cities look like run-down European cities. People are dressed in the regular "western" clothes. And there's an air of neglect (except in Salta - Salta was very lively and clean). We talked about this in Hostal Argentina Norte: if one once had a lot and lost it all, it's difficult to be happy with what one has. The economic problems of Argentina are clearly visible. When I walked to the hotel in the morning the city was dead. In Peruvian and Bolivian cities in the morning people scrub the sidewalks, clean the windows of the stores - there's life and happiness of a new day beginning. In Cordoba there's stillness. I had breakfast in one of the restaurants overlooking the plaza, to see the daily life happening, and I saw a woman in mink coat (it's rather cold here, it was 4 degrees Celsius in the morning) searching for leftovers in the garbage bin. What an exact portrayal of the economic downfall of the country! I walked through the town and visited it's many churches. The Cathedral is very beautiful inside: richly painted celeing, thousands of details, sculptured angels, lots of gold. But it was done with taste. I walked in the galerias with stores and many small and large cafes. During siesta, between 1-5, it's not possible to eat anything warm "from the kitchen", only cakes and sandwiches but people usually just drink coffee and mineral water which comes with every order, even just coffee. Stores close at 9 pm and after that the cafes and restaurants become busy again and hot food is served.

I got a bus ticket for tomorrow to Rosario where I will spend 4 hours mid-day and then I will continue to Buenos Aires. I will get there at 11pm.

Tuesday, April 26, 2005

Santiago del Estero

Marcinie upuszczajacy niewiasty! Wiedzialam ze do mnie napiszesz bo mi sie sniles! Napisze do Ciebie osobny e-mailik wkrotce - bo mi sie udalo zlokalizowac te adresy e-mailowe ktore mi sie na czas pewien zatracily.

Days in Sam Miguel de Tucuman got cold and rainy but it was really nice to spend time indoors with a really nice crowd of people in the Argentina Norte hostal. Some hostals are just terrible - the ones were people basicaly drink excesively and "party" all the time. And others, like Argentina Norte, are the places which attract people who travel not to party but to experience other cultures. The first crowd has nothing to talk about and plays cards and ping-pong or darts. The second crowd has many interesting stories to tell and it's possible to spend a night talking and drinking beer but not over the limits of endurance... In Argentina Norte I shared the room with an Argentinian student of medicine and a journalist from Australia. We talked at night, lying in our beds. It remainded me the shelter houses in the mountains in Poland and the various sailing and horseback-riding trips on which I went when I was a student. In the evening we watched the movies in the living room. A really great, peaceful and cozy athmosphere. I told them I wanted to go to Termas de Rio Hondo and Santiago and they said "It's dreadful there but go and see for yourself." So I got to Termas, another spa spot, yesterday in the evening. It it true it is not as beautiful as the other cities - it is basicaly a town built around the hot spring and all hotels are connected to the spring - but for me everything is interesting if I haven't seen it before. I want to see it myself and have my own opinion about it. And the place is not just the architecutre - it's the people and dogs and lot's of other things so there's always something interesting about it. In Termas there was a really nice and big outside swimming pool with the water from the spring. I went there in the morning and stayed in the water until my skin got wrinkled... It was wonderful. A pool with such clear water, without a splash of chlorine in it, is the only pool I like. I would love to live close by such a pool. I would be beginning and ending every day with a swim... Later I got to Santiago del Estero which was a first town built by conquistadores in Argentina. As the people in the hostal said, and the guidebook, it is a rather run-down city and not much of its oldness shows but it has a specific climate and people are amazingly warm. It's a different kinds of warmness and hospitality than in Bolivia. In Bolivia I could just feel the spiritual attachment and there was a slow exchange of ideas. Here people quicky and spontaneously hug and kiss me. I have been hugged and kissed here by the people in the tourist office, various woman and men in museums and little stores. In Poland there's a tradition of kissing but not random tourists. It's very nice. When they ask me where I am going and I tell them I hope to Patagonia they tell me to get a warm jacket and take good care of myself as if I was their daughter or a grandaughter. So the museums are not great, the churches are not beautiful (even the San Francisco church is rather ugly), the restaurants don't serve good food but the people make up for all this. I will remember Santiago as a place of very hospitable inhabitants.

At midnight I am going to Cordoba. In Argentina the buses are very comfortable, with WC, tv, great chairs, little bars serving coffee and snacks, but they do not travel as often as buses in Peru and Bolivia and there are virtually no collectivos here. The really great thing in Mexico, Guatemala, Panama, Peru and Bolivia was the fact that one could travel anywhere at any time day or night. Sometimes you have to wait and hour, until the bus or collectivo gets full, but as soon as it gets full you are on your way. Here it's not so easy... And the country is so big and some places are so desolate that it requires a bit more of planning and checking the schedule so that one is not stranded in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night... Good night everyone - I will be in Cordoba at 6 am.

Sunday, April 24, 2005

Rosario de la Frontera

is a tiny place among big estancias - farms with fruit trees and vegetables. People actually use horses for transport here. This is how the wild west in USA must have looked some time ago. In Bolivia and here I see many stores with horseback-riding equipment - beautiful, ornamented saddles, all kinds of shoes, blankets, sacks, etc. It's the land of the gaucho - the cowboy. 5 km from the bus station in Rosario is Hotel Termal. It's a huge old hotel build on a hot spring. It looks like the hotel from "Shining" except it is old and has deliciously old feel to it: peeling paint in some places, beautiful old tiles, a huge dining room for what seems like a hundred people with huge windows overlooking a big park and fields in the distance. The hotel is also a spa but in an old meaning of the word. It resembles the old spas - sanatorium - in Poland. I don't very much like the modern beauty spas but I love old medicinal spas. This one is like it. It's for people of all ages and both genders. There are deck chairs everywhere and mineral water (to cure different ailments) in jars for all-day drinking. I arrived in the morning and the spa services were so inexpensive that I decided to try everything on the list. I first went to the outside swimming pool with water greasy with minerals and 30 degrees Celsius hot. It was heavenly... Then I went to one-person jacuzzi bath with even greasier water. Then a break for natural juices and rest on a deck chair in one of the "galerias" overlooking the park. Then a face massage with hydrating masks and lotions and aromatherapy. Then a mud bath. The mud was stninky and I found all kinds of stones and twigs in it. It was very brown and also greasy, plop, plop. I fell asleep in it... After every treatment I was lied down, wrapped in towels and blankets for rest. And the last one and the best was an orintal massage. Mario, the massur, also has energy in his hands and I could immediately feel it. He too, like the Shaman, immediately knew about my third chakra problems and part of the massage was to energize the third chakra. I didn't think highly about massages because my previous experience was not good but this one was out of this world. It seems for the massage to be beneficial it is necessary to find a really good masseur - one who treats the massage as energy for body and mind, not just for the body. There was no vacant room at the hotel - there was some kind of convention scheduled for the evening and it was packed - so I decided to go to Tucuman in the evening. I went to the bus station and spend two hours talking with wonderful persons who were working at the bus station and who sold me the ticket: Liliana and her two-month old son Geronimo, Monica and Ivan. The baby goes everywhere with his mom and is also taken care of by Monica and Ivan when they all work together. We asked someone to take a picture of all of us so you will see it when I put all the pictures on the web one day. I hope to pass through Rosario again one day and visit them all.

I got to Tucuman at 1 am and got into Argentina Norte hostel which is located in a beautiful old house. I can't believe how wonderful the architecture is here. The rooms have really high celeings and part of the corridor is not roofed. This is what I like - you feel you are always outside. But that is possible in a climate like this, when it never really gets cold. Now it's "winter" so it's pleasantly cool. It's raining today. I feel so relaxed after all the treatments I got yesterday that I am in a "liquid" state, totally spaced out... I rolled out of bed at 1 pm, eate breakfast at 2 and walked around the main square. I saw an amazing courtyard at the San Francisco church (I think no one had such good effect on architecture as admirers of Saint Francisco) but very briefly because the church was closing for siesta. Details will come later then.

Friday, April 22, 2005

???

OK, so I see whatever I recreated earlier today did actually make through. Very strange...

I got information today about a marriage and a newborn baby. Emese and Kura got married at the NY City Hall and Rosana gave birth to a baby girl Gabriella. I rejoyce!!! And I am so happy for the newly weds and new parents! I have seen the picture of the newlyweds with Cheshire cat's smile on both hens' faces but I haven't seen nina Gabriella yet and I am awaiting her photo eagerly.

Buenas noches everyone. I am going to Rosario de la Frontierra tomorrow. It's a very tiny place so if there's no e-mail there, I will be in touch despues.

P.S. I said I would write in Spanish but since I left school in Guatemala all Spanish I acquired is by listening and talking to people - I don't know how to write! I will learn later, when I go to school and learn proper grammar.

Whatever I tried to put on the blog recently got lost

so I will try to put things in small sections. I tried different computers and nothing got posted on my blog. I am testing it on this computer... will be back shortly.

Salta

I came to Salta in Argentina Wednesday night. I boarded the bus to Bermejo in Tarija at 10 am. When I was at the bus station which is located at that road on which the accident happend the day before, I was watching people cross the street and some were cautious and some where not. A thought came to me that it is the only street of this type in Tarija, a street which is a little like a highway: it's possible to travel with a speed of 60 km per hour. Normaly cars travel at 30 km per hour because of the road conditions. So maybe the granny saw the car when she was approaching the road but did not look again because she didn't realize the speed with which it was going. Maybe it is better for the Bolivians that the roads are unpaved... and that usual speed is 30 k/h... When I was on the bus I also was thinking how when something bad happens to me or I see something bad happening to other people, my senses suddenly become very acute. As if normaly the body and mind doesn't realize the everyday-life dangeres because the senses are kind of dull. When something bad happens, suddenly the world is a dangerous place: you look left and right, back and ahead, again left and right, you look 360 degrees before crossing the street, you avoid the edge of the sidewalk, someone taps you on the shoulder wanting to ask something and you jump up startled, a waiter puts a spoon on the saucer and it sounds in your ear like an explosion of a bomb, or a mosquito passes by and it sounds like F-16 crossing the sky. It's very tiring, this state of acuteness, to the body and mind. I think that maybe people who are in the prolonged state of alert, like soldiers and criminal pathologists, get addicted to things which bring the senses back to their usual dullness...

The border with Argentina was a tiny station with a tiny immigration office where I got my exit stamp and a few stores with things to drink and crackers. I got local Bolivian and Argentinian beer for myself, crackers for the stray dogs who live at the station, and I gave the rest of Bolivianos to the shop keepers - outside of Bolivia nobody wants them. The border is a river. I stood on it, in a place where the painted Bolivian flag ends and Argentinian flag begins and I felt very emotional. I looked at the few soldiers and shop keepers and I felt sad leaving all these wonderful Bolivian people behind. I have to say again that they are amazing people. They are very warm. They are walking slowly, talking slowly, they are totally peaceful. Wherever they asked me if I liked their country and I said it was beautiful they immediately said: "It's so peaceful here, no?" I talked to so many Bolivians. They are the most natural, the most sincere, patient and hospitable people I met. I wonder if it's because their life is so hard. They may not realize it but I, who can compare it to life in other places, can say it is hard. They never complain. But they are very spiritual people. When I told them about my meeting with the Shaman and showed them my amuletes, they showed me theirs and told me about their past lives. They too, believe in karma and reincarnation. They don't call it karma but maybe destiny - they believe they are where they should be. I think that is why it was so easy for them to be exploited by gringos (and gringos here mean all non-indigenous, all "foreigners") because they don't rebel. Talking to the indigenous people gives me the idea of their culture and their values and why history happened the way it happened. Maybe the Quechua Indians from the region of Ayacucho in Peru are a rare case of Indians who don't agree with the present state of affairs - the Shining Path started in Ayacucho so there the indigenous people are more aware of the injustice and inequility. There are random protest here and there, like the one I saw in Cuzco, but they are not organized it seems... I am reading now about all the groups of indigenous people in South America. I will report what I have read soon. Now it was a digression... So I crossed the boarder and came to the Argentinian immigration station which looked like a regular North American or European boarder: lots of police, a few buildings (one for checking documents, one for luggage searching) , a separate station for checking individual passangers and for buses, etc. The bags were thoroughly, very thoroughly, checked for coca and agricultural products which are not permitted to enter Argentina. I took a collectivo taxi to the nearest village and then from there another collectivo taxi to Salta. It was a very pleasant three-hour ride with a very nice group of people: a very pregnant woman and two older man. All three of them felt very sorry for me that I was travelling alone and didn't have any kids and where listing suitable bachelors in Salta, hoping to marry me off there. They and the taxi driver where joking all the way and I had so much fun listening to them. When they learned that my ex-husband is specializing in psychiatry it started the avalanche of jokes about psychiatrists. I was ready to pee in my pants with laughter...

Salta looks like a European city. It's beautiful, wealthy, people are dressed with acute elegance. Not many kilometers from Bolivia but a totaly different world. And immediately problems connected to "civilized world": banks won't accept a 20-dollar bill because it has a 2mm rip on a side, there's commission when exchanging money, the waiter ignores me because I am not acutely elegant, the people at Citibank are as abnoxious as they are in all other Citibanks I have visited... Otherwise people are very nice. It's just the regular contacts with the corporate part of the country that made me feel like hoping back on the bus to Bolivia. Of the things I saw here the most interesting is the Museum of Anthropology. It contains the artefacts found in a gravesite on the peak of volcano Llullaillaco at 6,700 above sea level. Three perfectly preserved mummies of three children were found. It's amazing how well preserved they were. Here's a website of the museum if you would like to read about it: www.maam.org.ar. I am going to go to the website myself now to see what they have there.

Tuesday, April 19, 2005

Tarija

I came to Tarija at 8 am. I boarded the bus at 3 pm yesterday. We had three ours' delay because we got a flat tire and then had a collision with a jeep just after the sunrise. The road to Tarija is not paved - it's a dirt road - and it's so narrow and winding that it seems almost impossible for a bus as big as the bus cama to be on such road. Nothing happened to anyone - the jeep had a dented side. We were just all a little scarred...

I went to look for the vinyards on the outskirts of the city and on my way saw a tragic car accident. I saw every second of it because I saw a granny standing on the edge of the sidewalk and I was admiring her traditional dress and how beautifully she looked in it... and I saw her step out to the street and at the same time a minivan aproaching her who started to honk his horn. She stepped out in front of it without looking... The car went into a skid, hit her and landed on its side. I saw many car accidents and every time I want to run and help but I just stand completely frozen. I knew the woman was dead on the spot - no one could have survived such impact - but the driver was inside the wracked car. I stood for a long time, watched the people who stopped their cars help the driver get out of the car (nothing happened to him), the arrival of the police and ambulance. I heared them speculating how it all happened. The measurment of the skid would give them the idea but since I was the only witness I felt it was my moral obligation to report what I saw and that it was not the driver's fault. I went with the police to the police station and if they will need me still, I will stay here one more day.

I saw life end tragically and abruptly. One minute a person, another a lifeless body. It can happen like this. So, people, enjoy every minute of your life while there's time...

Sunday, April 17, 2005

Sunday in Sucre

Sunday in Sucre is quiet, like all Sundays in all South American cities. It's how it used to be in Poland: all public places and all stores are closed. Only restaurants are open (and then they are all closed on Mondays) and internet cafes. Families spend Sunday together, they walk in the parks and hang out in the family-run restaurants where owners-resteuranteurs sit together with their guests. I went to one of the parks in the morning and saw many people jogging (I pant even when I walk here so I couldn't believe they had the strength to be making all these loops around the park running) and dogs were playing and napping on the lawn. There's a huge section of the park just for kids with lots of aparatuses for climbing, all kinds of sea-saws, swings and sandboxes.

I had a really good breakfast at Joy Ride Cafe, a Dutch-owned place (it seems many Dutch and Germans settled in Bolivia), walked extensively around the quiet town, enjoying all the bautiful houses and balconies, and it's mid-day so the internet cafe is my hiding place from the heat. I have the time to write about a big part of my life which is DOGS.

This trip is mostly about observing and learning about different cultures, people, their customs, interactions between them, their corelation with nature, their believes, and about nature, architecture, history, politics, economy, art, food, traditional and non-traditional clothes, etc. And it is also about dogs. Because I always had a special relationship with dogs. I love all animals, big and small, but dogs are special to me. They have been domesticated so long ago that they always really want to be part of the human family and do everything to win man's love. They are man's best friend but man is not always best friend to them... I have been observing dog's life in all countries I visited. In general it it a good life because they are free - they are not tied to doghouses and not locked inside houses; they run around wherever they want. Sometimes I see them scratching the door of their houses at dusk when they come home tired and happy. There are no fast roads here and in many places there are speed bumps. Dogs also learn to avoid cars and to walk across roads and streets when it's safe to do it. I haven't seen any dogs killed on the road. They run around and when they get tired they just fall asleep wherever they drop, sometimes in the middle of the sidewalk, in parks, on the markets between the stalls. They are of all shapes, sizes and colors. They are usually mutts. Dogs are not fixed but males co-exist in peace. The hierarchy is established early and everyone obeys it: the younger submit to the older until the older get so old that they get out of the way of the younger. I have seen occasional fights but not to the point that they would rip each other apart. It's mostly to show dominance and it ends fast. Dogs know when to fight and when to submit. They are never agressive toward people. People are never afraid of dogs - they are their masters. I think all dogs' energy is spent running around so there's no agressive energy buildup. Some dogs are loners and stay away from other dogs, others travel in packs. They often play in the parks. I sometime see packs of wild dogs. They may not be in the greatest shape (sometimes they are skinny and sick) but they enjoy their freedom - I think freedom is everything to a dog (they want to belong to a man but without the freedom of running they are miserable). Then next comes the food. I can usually tell whether the city or a village is doing well or not by the shape it's dogs are in. If the city is doing well, the dogs are plump and clean. For some reason the places along the coast of Peru, Panama, and Mexico where the ones where dogs were really sick. Maybe it has to do with the climate and proximity to salt water. They often get skin diseases or fungus and it is then a sad sight to see them suffering... Everywhere else dogs were doing, I would say, fine. They look happy. Some of them come to me for patting. I have patted many many dogs. I will remember some of them for ever, the ones who come to me as if they had known me all their lives. In places I visit for the first time they are my first friends. Some of them come to get some food and I always have something to give to them. I also miss my dogs and I sometimes wonder if they would like to be doing this journey with me. I think Buffo likes comfort too much to be enjoying rough travelling such as this but Maksio would love it. He would love the running around, playing with the dogs, getting into fights, etc. Maybe when I go to Europe, and if I travel by car, I would take them with me. In Portugal I could do it because in Portugal all dogs are also running free and are welcomed everywhere. I will see where the wind takes me after this trip.

Tomorrow I am going to take the "Dino Truck" to a site where petrified dinosaurs' tracks where found a few years ago and then I will take a train to Potosi. Then I am planning to go south to Tarija, a winery region close to the border with Argentina. I will cross the border and head south to Patagonia. That's the rough plan. And now I will go find some park and nap on the grass, surrounded by dogs...

Friday, April 15, 2005

Sucre

All buses going from Samaipata to Sucre are overnight buses (and it's not really possible to travel in small sections because there are no places to stay along the way to Sucre) so I boarded a bus cama (and it was the most comfortable bus I have been on so far - the seats were really flat like beds) at 8 pm yesterday and arrived in Sucre at 8 am. I slept well and from 6 am observed the world outside. It was mostly mountains, rather bare - only low shrubs here and there - and dried out rivers. It looked like a very hostile environment for people to live in and the houses I saw along the way were mostly abondoned. I read in the guidebook that there were severe draughts in the 1980s and people moved to cities, mostly to Sucre. The city it again on the top of the mountains, at the altitude of 2,790 m. It was founded in 1538 and is also called La Ciudad Blanca because all buildings in the center are painted white. In 1992 UNESCO declared the city "Patrimonio Historico y Cultural de la Huimanidad". I took a nap right after I came to make the body adjust to the hights again. And since 2 pm I was walking around the town. I visited the Cathedral and the museum. A guide explained all the nuances of the sacral art. But I didn't find the church very impressive. The only thing which I found interesting were two huge white angels in the museum hanging from the celeing and holding candelabras. They looked very much like angel Gabriel from the movie titled "Constantine" which I saw in Santa Cruz (the movie wasn't very good - the only thing I liked about it was the portrayal of demon Balthazar who was a businesman dressed in sophisticated suit and residing in a corporate office of a skyscraper). Much more interesting was the Iglesia de La Merced. I went to the top, where the bell is, and the view of the city was wonderful from there - white buildings, courtsquares inside them and red-tiled roofs. The church itself was modest and dark but had a nice "old" feel to it. I also came across a community of houses being built on one of the streets very close to the main square. They are almost finished - men only work on details such as kitchen cabinets, closets and tiles in bathrooms. I met Silvana who bought one of the houses ($45,000) and she showed me around her house and the adjecent houses. They are modern inside but the outside architecture resembles the old colonial houses surrounding them so they are two-storey, red-tiled roofs, patios in front and small courtyards inside. Usually the kitchen is connected to the living room and the big glass doors overlook the patio. The bathrooms are mind-blowing. Very beautiful. I think I would love to live in a house like this one day.

There are so many interesting places to see in this city. I think I will stay here until Monday. Buenas noches.

Wednesday, April 13, 2005

Tres Cascadas

I spent the day in the park of the tree waterfalls and it was an amazingly peaceful day. The trail leading to the first waterfall runs along the river and there are orange trees on each side and a lot of sub-tropical plants. There are a few very nice cabins and a campsite right next to the entrance to the park. If you ever feel like getting lost for a while and spending time in a remote place, away from civilization, the park is a great place for such disappearance. Each waterfall has a nice sandy beach to lie down on and the water is perfect for swimming - not too hot and cristal clear. I went up the trail to the furthest waterfall and spend the whole day lying on the beach, soaking in the water, napping and reading. I was the only person there the whole day but not the only soul: there were many birds, very beautiful, and of peculiar colors, butterflies, dragonflies and sandflies which were driving me to madness before I applied insect repellent. One of the bird's singing resembled that of the cellular phone ringing so a few times I was woken up by it and for a split of a second wondered if I was transported to a different place in my sleep... I was relieved to find out I was exactly where I wanted to be... A collectivo was passing by right after I left the park and I was even lucky to have a seat, on a bag of rice.

I was reading today a really great book of literary essays by J.M. Coetzee STRANGER SHORES. I found it in Frank's "book exchange". Frank is German and has lived in Samaipata for some time. He runs Roadrunners - a travel and trekking agency. Many places owned by foreigners have book exchanges which are usually shelves with books left by tourists and it's possible to donate used book and get a different one or borrow books. Most of the book exchanges I saw before had only romances and other "beach books". I'd rather read labels on detergent or schampoo bottles than Barbara Bradford Taylor or Danielle Steel so I was thrilled to find Coetzee at Frank's. So the day spent among the watefalls and with a good book in hand will be very nicely remembered.

It is also confirmed, constantly during my trip, how small the world is. During supper at La Chakana - a restaurant with very nice food - a person came to my table and introduced himself as Bill. Frank told him I was Polish. It's such a small town that everyone knows what everyone else does and is, even if one is a foreigner. We started talking and it turned out one of Bill's books, Blueclay People, was considered by Ayesha Pande at FSG. It was eventually published by Bloomsbury. So, isn't the world small?!

Ps. Gosienko kochana! Pewnie ze pojade do Afryki, nie wiem tylko kiedy. Mam nadzieje ze do tego czasu Twoj okres kiszenia sie w Ameryce sie skonczy (zawsze sie konczy, kazdy przez okres kiszenia sie przechodzi) i bedziesz mogla pojechac ze mna. Jak skoncze z Ameryka Poludniowa to sobie kupie przewodnik po Afryce i zaczne robic "badanie terenu" i wstepna trase. Ucaluski dla Ciebie, kochana.

Tuesday, April 12, 2005

Samaipata

Instead of Concepcion I came to Samaipata. It's a lovely little town 120 km west of Santa Cruz. I took the bus at 4:00pm yesterday and came here around 7:00pm. It was a wonderful ride along the Piray george. Samaipata is on the altitude of 1,600 m so we were going up the winding road. I read in the guidebook that Bolivia's roads are in a shocking state. I wouldn't say "shocking" (I don't know if I will ever find anything "shocking") but strange: there are kilometers of nicely asphalted road and then suddenly the road becomes bumpy and there are fragements when the asphalt disappears and there's dirt road instead. The mountains around Samaipata are not as dramatic and high as the ones I saw before but nicely rolling hills, covered with dense, subtropical vegetation. The center of Samaipata is a very nice park with palm trees and benches. Today is Kids' Day in Bolivia and the whole day there were all kinds of festivities going on for kids and the whole park was vibriting with voice of the leading clown, disco music and various contests. It seems kids in Bolivia have as much fun as I had in elementary school. Our Kids' Day is June 1st. I wonder if they have the same tradition of not having to have to anything including not having to wash teeth and ears? Mid-day I took a taxi (there's no other transport) to El Fuerte, a pre-Inca ceremonial site which was later adapted and used by Inca for their purposes, a practice generally used by them. The Spaniards demolished all Inca and pre-Inca temples and ceremonial sites but Inca adapted whatever they found in the counquered lands and welcomed into their tradition what was beneficial to them from pervious religions and political, agricultural, etc. systems. El Fuerte is a rock carved into various shapes. On the sides there are niches, on top there's a circle used as a gathering place for the corus. There are carvings resembling snake's skin and cats. There are various theories as to its actual use but all are just scientific guesses... As with all other Inca and pre-Inca structures there's no definite proof of anything.

Samaipata is very peaceful and very unexpensive ($2 for a wonderful, clean and homely, bed and breakfast, and a few restaurants with very delicious food). The people are wonderful and very relaxed. All along the way from Santa Cruz, and espacially the first 20km outside of Santa Cruz, I saw very nice, brick and mortar, houses with front yards full of flowers and shrubs. The houses are small and simple but don't look poor. I was very glad to see this. It was afternoon when I was passing them by and the inhabitants were sitting in their yards, kids were playing, dogs were playing, cows, horses, pigs (some were enormous and very hairy), and donkeys were wandering around free, not tited to anything. The whole area of Santa Cruz looks like a wealthy region.

Tomorrow I am going to go visit three waterfalls 20 km away from Samaipata. There is no other transport than a taxi but taxis are cheap and if I don't get any ride back, I will just walk the 20 km. I recovered from my Andean hardship and I am ready for more walking!

Sunday, April 10, 2005

Domingo

Since it's Sunday and everything is closed I went to the cathedral to rest a little in the mid-day heat. I was cooling down and listening to Palabras de Dios and to the signing. There is no organ music in the church, only a piano and guitar. The music sounds like a mix of Celine Dion and Julio Iglasias, very popy and romantic. I think that if the constantly appearing word "Senor" was replaced with "Amor" the songs could make it to the top numbers of pop music hit list. No sadness so present in most all Polish church melodies. It's such a different kind of Christianity here... Entire multi-generational families come to mass. It's amazing how nicely behaved the kids are. There are so many kids in the entire city. It looks like every other person is carrying a baby. Because the baby carriages are not in use (also in Peru I haven't seen them). Moms and dads (in the country side usually moms, in cities usually dads) carry their babies. There are no carrieges of any kind, no backpacks or frontpacks, no baby bags used. The only thing used is a blanket which, especially in the countryside, fastens the baby to a mother's, or sibling's, back. Babies are "working" with their moms in stores, restaurants, markets, offices - they sit on blankets and look perfectly content. I haven't seen any wining. I think it's marvelous, that babies spent time with their parents instead of babysitters. And it's wonderful to see how affectionate fathers are toward their kids. We are used to grand motherly love in the west but here fathers look like they would love to brestfeed if they only could!

I looked at the schedule of buses and tomorrow I will go to Concepcion village with a Jesuit mission and try to find some river or waterfall suitable for swimming because I am totally roasted.

Saturday, April 09, 2005

Still in Santa Cruz

I am still in Santa Cruz, waiting for the yellow fever shot. I think I will get it the day after tomorrow. It got very hot immediately. The rainy season is over. But it's good for me because there's a less chance in the dry season of being bitten by mosquitos coming from selva and being injected with malaria or yellow fever. Santa Cruzeans walk half-naked in a cloud of expensive perfume and I walk in a cloud of insect repellent totally covered by long pants and shirts with long sleves. I put cream on my body and I spray my clothes, including my hat. Hopefuly this will keep the bitting and sucking insects away from me...

I saw the American movie "Hitch" and I laughed hard. I like situational comedy (since the days of Louis de Funes, RIP, movies) so all the ripped pants, people falling on glass marbles, falling of the boats are always very funny to me. But when I was watching the movie, about a consultant helping men arrange dates with women, a thought came to me that this movie must be double hilarious here in South America where the culture of dating is totally different. I don't think a Latino man would ever use a consultant and if he did and it came out, I think the only way to erase the disgrace would be to commit harakiri. Latino men just walk up to women, in parks, on the street, on buses, trains, cafes, etc., and tell them they are beautiful and they would like to meet them. If she shrugs her sholders and walks away it means "no", but if she says "no" it means "yes". It's the beginning of the chase... No woman is going to ask a guy out and she will not go the remaining 10%. If he can't say he likes her and kiss her, he can just get lost. The Polish culture of flirt was similar to South American, now it is a mix of South American and North American - girls do ask men out. But in the time of my early youth (now it's my little later youth :)) that was unheard of. Do you remember the "rip me, rip me! lick me, lick me?" scene from "Lost in translation"? It seems the Japanese culture in woman-man relations is still very different from all of the above - even a prostitute cannot be perceived as an "easy" woman and has to put on a fake resistance. Watching the movie made me realize how differently different cultures must see the picture.

I went to see the movie because all theaters, movie theaters, cafes with music and pubs are open. In the Cathedral there's a big picture of the Pope and special masses dedicated to him are held early evening. People go and pray but life goes on and they also enjoy it. I like this philosphy. When I talk to people they have similar thoughts to mine: when an old and very sick person dies, and especially if his life was fruitfull and noble, it is a reason to celebrate, that he was given the chance to live such long and fruitful life. When a young person dies a sudden death that is most sad. But in any case we are mortal and death can come any time and it's good to feel ready for it always and not be afraid. I like the fact that there's no melodrama connected to the Pope's passing here. Life for us who are still here continues.

The city is preparing for the V International Theater Festival beginning on 14 April. There will be 42 performances performed by various theatrical groups from South America and Europe in various theaters, cultural centers and city parks. The entrance to all performances is free. It looks like a collective effort of the entire town. Sponsors are the various governmental and non-governemental organizations and funds, all supermarkets and smaller stores, tv and radio stations, embassies and consulates, and many individual Senioras y Seniores. Maybe I will stay a few more days to see some of the productions. There's Sarah Kane's "Psychosis" which I missed when it was staged in Ann's Warehouse in December so maybe I can see its Spanish version. And I would like to see Manuel Puig's "Kiss of the Spider Woman" which I saw long time ago in Poland and would like to see again.

I also visited most of the museums around the city - most of them has free admission. I was always the only visitor. The collections are not that great but the buildings themselves are very beautiful with wonderful courtyards, balconies, heavy colonial doors and windows.

I also went to the Mandarin Chinese restuarant which was a very sophisticated place with a pond in front of it and bridge leading guests across, gold fish in the pond, and lots of vegetation around the patio, but the food resembled only a little the chinese food I know from other places... I am sticking to Fridolin.

Wednesday, April 06, 2005

Pastelaria Austriaca

I discovered Pastelaria Austriaca - a very nice restaurant with good food and grand pastries. I always prefer to eat local specialties but since it is not possible here I am eating pizzas, lasagnas and Austrian specialties. I found in the guidebook two Chinese restaurants and I am going to explore one of them today. Cravings for the NY food got to me, especially the dish with eggplants and fried calamari served at SEA in Williamsburg... There's no Thai restaurant here so I am going to see if I can get something familiar in the Chinese restaurant.

I visited today the US consulate because I got news via e-mail from the tax service I used to fill the tax forms that the state tax return was rejected as incomplete. I did it again, printed it out (since it didn't want to go through electronically) and decided to ask the consulate if they could put it into their post so that it gets to IRS (I heard the Bolivian post is not very reliable and it's impossible to send it Fedex or DHL because there's no name, just the P.O. box...). First I got to the address where the consulate was located until last year - a nice villa among other villas in a quiet district of the town. Then I got to the new address which looks like a fortress - high tin walls and gate with a barbed wire and lots of soldiers around... Inside is very "cold" looking. There's a picture of the President with his usual "deer in the headlights" stare. The photo of Collin Powell was leaning against the wall upside-down. Maybe he just fell of the wall or maybe they have no storage space for defunct government officials. I met with a consular agent who looked very much like the "Octopus woman" - the owner of the two eels "poopsies" - from The Little Mermaid. "Yeeees (my little dear poopsie), what can I do for you?" They couldn't help me because they only have a "pouch for diplomats" going to the States. I wrote a long letter explaining my particular situation, asking IRS not to fine me if the form gets there late. She agreed to put her official stamp on it, as proof that I am abroad and did everything in my power to get it to IRS on time. I told her how disappointed I was that they couldn't send it with the mail going out from the consulate. If they couldn't help me with a thing so little such as this what if I got into a real trouble abroad? It totally sucks. I will complain to the Dept. of State, foreign Affairs. Not that it will change anything, but as a principal - to report the malfunction of the service which should be "for the people" (who pay taxes for it).

When it comes to the malfunction of services I have to say that the only thing that brakes my peace during my travels is dealings with Geico, DMV, Sprint, IRS, EazyPass and the like. I spent a lot of time before I left to make sure everything was done and closed, and I gave everyone my e-mail address just in case there were any questions but there shouldn't be because I closed everything for good, good, good. Suddenly there are charges on my credit card concerning accounts which were closed early February! People! PLEASE, whatever you do in life, PLEASE don't ever work for costumer service! Because I can't believe they hire only imbeciles. I think people's brains become dead in the process... of training... to adhere to the SYSTEM. And the more detailed the system gets, the less effectively it works. Because life is full of exceptions, different paths, special cases, etc. and instead of a system, reason works better to solve these cases. But reason became obsolete. It was replaced by the system, usually computer system and no thinking on the part of the ones operating it is used. I wonder if Franz Kafka could foresee the future and the workings of such (corporate) systems. What I am dealing with lately is just totally Kafkaesque. There's no personal responsibility involved... A person, a thinking person, becomes totally helpless in the face of the system and brainless people... Now that I let some steam out of my head... I am enjoying the lazy afternoon in Santa Cruz. There's a cultural center here so I will see if I can see a movie or a play. There are a few museums on the outskirts of the town and I think I will visit them tomorrow. Today I was totally lazy because it got very hot... I spend the siesta napping in Hostal Santa Barbara. There's a three-months old Spitz puppy in the hostal and I am also spending some time with him. I sit on the nice patio with palms, the puppy accompanies me, and we both observe a huge community of very tiny ants and their interesting paths... looks like a system but a very intelligent one...

Tuesday, April 05, 2005

Resting in Santa Cruz

I decided to rest a few days in Santa Cruz because it is such a nice town. I am feeling much better already. I can finally breathe. The weather is perfect: there are a few hot hours mid-day (and siesta between 12-2:30) but mornings, afternoons and nights are pleasantly cool and fresh. Santa Cruz is an island of wealth in the sea of poverty... I haven't seen such a huge concentration of expensive SUVs as here... Yesterday I took a taxi to a hospital to ask about the yellow fever vaccine and I was going through a district of big, very beautifully kept houses. Maybe it's the coca mafia district... I was reading a little about the history of Bolivia and it seems not one president ever finished his turn naturally. Most were overthrown, forced to leave, one was killed publicaly, one committed suicide... The governments change from socialist to capitalist, a set of new economy rules is implemented with every new president. It must be really tough to live here, even for the privilaged... I am just walking around the town, enjoying the sights, parks, fountains and cafes. The only problem is still the food. It's very hard to find something fresh here...

(Gene, I haven't heard from you for a long time - is everything fine? Are you still in Florida or in NY? I lost your e-mail address.)

Sunday, April 03, 2005

Santa Cruz

What was supposed to be a 12-hour bus ride turned into an 18-hour ride but the bus was comfortable so it wasn't so bad. It's called "bus cama" and the seats really unfold to almost beds. The roads in some places felt like dirt roads - that's why it took so long. But it turned out good in the end because if we were not so delayed I wouldn't see the jungle in the daylight. From 7 am I could see its beauty. We passed through very lush vegetation, many broad rivers with murky milk-and-coffee waters and many clear-watered waterfalls. The houses in the selva looked very very poor. We stopped a few times along the way and it was sad for me to see the state of people and animals in this part of the country... When we left the jungle and reached the plains it got much wealthier and the outskirts of Santa Cruz looked like many outskirts of the Polish cities: a lot of nice buildings of foreign capital companies with well-kept grounds around them. Also many nice haciendas. Bolivia seems like a place of great contrasts. Santa Cruz looks a little like Florida - it has this feel of a warm place, full of palm trees and the specific architecture of such places. There's a nice town square with freshly painted buildings and a beautiful cathedral. Immediately after I arrived I went to look for food and I found this big restaurant inside some kind of a palace where whole families were sitting at long tables. They looked very elegant and highly mannered and were all of European descend - I think they were the people running this town. They also seemed to know each other. They were visiting each others' tables and kids were playing in the main part of the big room. It is very obvious here that there is this class of intelligentsia here which holds all the privileges and the very poor. There seems to be no middle class in Bolivia. The dinner consisting of an appetizer, soup, second course, desert, and fresh fruit juice (all for $2.5 with tip, for a tourist Bolivia is cheaper than Peru) was very nicely served, and in a very nice scenery, but not so tasty. This is so far my problem here - I have to be very careful what I eat. In La Paz the only place that looked and smelled good was Cafe Club de La Paz. It must be a place with a legend and history - I will heave to look for some info about it. When I went to eat there the only people there were middle-aged men in three-piece suits and they looked very noble. The club, I think, exists from early 40s. On the walls there were photos of La Paz in the 60s and they showed a very nice and clean city. It deteriorated badly since then... I went to the Cafe yesterday before getting on the bus and I saw on the tv the CNN live report from Vatican about the death of the Pope and the people around the world grieving (also in Cracovia, Polonia). I was touched... Thoughts of the day when the Pope was elected the Pope came back to me. I remember the day very well. Viola, who was a student and was renting a room at our house and who later became my very dear friend, came running to my room: "Asia! They elected the Pope and it's Karol Wojtyla, a Pole!" I didn't agree with many of the things he did (I don't agree with much of what the Church does) but I still respected him as a person as I respect all human beings who try to change the world for the better, even if it doesn't turn out for the better always... It saddens me that he passed away but I also rejoice because much of his life lately was suffering so this is the end of his suffering. His soul is free at last. For us it's an end to an era...

Saturday, April 02, 2005

La Paz

La Paz

It's 2:30 pm and I am in hostal el Solario in La Paz. There's a huge thunderstorm and I can hear the heavy rain falling on the glass roof. I got to La Paz yesterday. Early morning on 31 March I took a collectivo (did I ever explain what collectivos are? They are minibuses which leave to their destinations when they get full) to Yunguyo. From Yunguyo it's 1km to the border with Bolivia. I was ready to walk but as I got off the bus a man asked if I would like to use his riksha. So I hopped on. After a slow ride, and passing a beautiful scenery, we got to the border which was a few stores on the Peruvian and Bolivian side and two small immigration buildings. It turned out I exceeded my visa by three days and had to pay a $5 fine but the immigration officer told me not to worry when I come back, "Just ask for a 90-day visa next time." In the building of the Bolivian immigration office I met a group of Polish tourists (Pozdrawiam wszystkich serdecznie!) and it was the first time I met anyone from Poland since I met the few persons in Lima. It was a very nice meeting and there were only us, no other tuourists! A very quiet border... I got into conversation with the bathroom cleaner, a very nice man, and he asked me if I am going to go to the Isla del Sol. He said it was very nice and I said, yes, I will go, on your recommendation. I got to Copacabana, a small town on the Bolivian shore of Lake Titicaca and it turned out the boat to the Island of the Sun was leaving in 20 minutes. I immediately got a ticket and on my way to the boat I met Batia, a girl from Israel who completed her service in the Israeli army and is taking a 5-month vacation in South America. We boarded the chicken boat full of people, bags with food, toilet paper and bricks. We got to the island and had to climb 1 hour up to the peak where all the hostels were located. We were completely dead and out of breath when we got into our room. On our way we met many donkeys and I want to say that I am very much in love with them. Of all the hooved animals I think donkeys are the most gentle, intelligent, patient, brave ones and they have a great sense of humor. We saw a few of them playing like dogs. It was an amazing sight. They were playing tricks on each other: hiding, playing tag, tugging on the blankets on their backs... When the sheep where coming down, while we were going up, they would see us and run into all uncomfortable directions to avoid us, in panic. The donkeys walked the best way (the way up is like Inca trail, many steps) and when they saw us they would either wait for us to pass, passe Senioritas!, or we would step aside and they would go first. No panic, high manners. If I ever have the means to own a hooved animal I would like to have a donkey. After we recovered from the long climb we looked for a restaurant and there were a few family-run places, all on the very top of the mountain with beautiful views of the Peruvian and Bolivian side of the lake. We met Ladislaw from Slovakia and Marco from Tasmania, who also met on the boat, and they told us about the beautiful trail to the north of the island. We went to bed early because it was totally dark on the island, and cold. The next morning Batia left at 10 am to catch a boat back and I decided to go on the 10km trail from south to north of the island where, as Marco and Ladislaw told us, some nice Inca ruins were located. I was completely alone on the trail. I only met one indigenous woman on my way and told her how beautiful the scenery was. She asked me where I got my hat (a white alpaca Inca hat I got in Amantani). I pointed to the other shore of the lake. "Different country?" she asked. "Yes." Isla del Sol is a universe in its own - the only place people need to go is Copacabana to get what they can't produce on their own. The buildings look like the ones in a well to do Polish village, except there's no farming machinery of any kind. The land is plowed by men with oxen. I don't know if any machinery on these steep slopes would be useful. Village life is concentrated on the north and south ends of the island. I walked through its middle and the scenery was changing from lush green to desert-like peaks. There are many eucaliptus trees in Peru in Bolivia, brought from Australia some time ago, and there were many along the walk - I was walking in a very fragrant and thin air. I got to the ruins which were very ruined, only remains really of what looked like a two-story high palace of some kind, but beautiful and beautifully located. I spent some time there, enjoying this beauty, the beach below, and the distant shores of Lake Titicaca. I went to the south shore port and got on the boat which took me to the north but it was too late to make the last boat going back to Copacabana so I stayed another night on the Island. Yesterday morning I got on the boat and then after a short walk around Copacabana I got on the bus to La Paz. On the bus I met Krzysztof, who is Polish but has lived in England for four years, and his girlfiend Zoe. We got to La Paz at 5 pm. On our way I observed the scenery of Bolivia and it does look like the poorest country of South America - that's what the guidebook said. La Paz also looks very run down. It looks like a city in disintegration, like something that was built without any particular plan, or half built and never finished... It's smell is also the smell of decay. It's hard to describe it. It's the strangest city I have seen so far. The commerce takes place on the street - everything is sold there. Women cook food on the street so restaurants are on the sidewalks. The small center is in the valley and all around are shantytowns. The air is heavily polluted, the buildings look very abandoned, there's a lot of garbage on the streets. You may think that people are utterly misirable living here but I talked to some poeple selling various things and they were all asking me "Do you like our city? Isn't it beautiful?" Again, it prooves that what may be unbearable for people raised in a certain culture is totally fine, and even beautiful, to the people raised in this culture. I walked around the city, visited the San Franciso Church (very beautiful as all other churches dedicated to St. Francisco except the only lighting is the flourescent long bulbs like the ones used for offices in the western world), the Cathedral, the main square Murillo, and the esoteric market (with mumified baby lamas and all kinds of strange potions and amulets) and I am totally wasted because it's always climbing up steep streets. At 7 pm I am taking a bus to lowlands, to Santa Cruz because I have to rest somewhere from the high altitude.