Bolivia.... Part One

After getting our exit stamp from Brazil, we walked the 1000 feet to the Bolivian customs. There was another long line. We went to the back. After about 10 minutes we started chatting with a couple from the UK who were behind us in line who were trying to leave Bolivia and go to Brazil. Wendy and Gordon. They were in their late forties, and had quit their jobs in Bournemouth, England, rented out their house, and spent a year learning Spanish and volunteering. The places they had been and things they had done were amazing. They'd volunteered in the Galapagos Islands, in an orphanage in Bolivia, and been trekking deep into the Amazon. Things that I couldn't imagine doing at my age! Gordon was from Scotland and Wendy was from Wales.

After about two hours, the customs office closed. For the day. We had sat in line with no prospect whatsoever of actually getting our passport stamps, but the numerous soldiers standing around with their semi-automatic weapons didn't seem too interested in letting us know our efforts were futile. Wendy and Gordon had spent the night in the town the night before, so we took a taxi to their hotel with them. While we were driving we were telling our taxi driver about our border crossing issues, and by the time we had got to the hotel, he said, “Why don't you stay at a hotel near the border?” Good point! So we went straight back to the same spot we had got the taxi from, as there was a hotel right there. I was dubious about the cleanliness of the hotels, because the town was very run-down and dirty. But the hotel was very new, and was like a dream for us. It had a brand new remote-controlled air conditioner, a flat screen TV, a towel, soap and shampoo in the shower AND a brand new toilet roll with the wrapping still on it! And all for $21! We were so thrilled, since we'd just paid $50 for a crappy room on the Brazilian side.

We dropped our stuff then went out with Wendy and Gordon to grab a meal. We found a little place and got the chicken. They don't have menus, just typical local plates of food, so we just ordered chicken. Gordon and Jesse did some good beer drinking, due to the heat and frustrations of the day, and we ended up having 14 cans of beer and 3 plates of food for a total of $12US. Isn't that amazing! And about 2km from a town where all that would have cost probably $50. So strange, but great!

Then we went back and the guys played cribbage and we all chatted and hung out on the balcony. The next morning we got up at 6am and went and stood in line to get our stamps. We left our stuff in the hotel. Bolivia requires US citizens to pay $135 to enter the country (because they are pissed at the US for the “war on drugs” which pressures them to stop growing coca leaves, a big crop here, for purposed other then cocaine as well). We had researched that they would also want to see our yellow fever vaccination cards and want a passport photo. We had everything ready. After 4 hours we got to the front of the line and the ego-pumped customs soldier guy told us we needed photocopies of everything, including our credit cards. Yay! But that we could come back to the front of the line. So Jesse ran off and got those. Then we finally got into the office and handed our stuff over. We then had to fill out three different forms and stand in three different lines. It was crazy. It felt like we were trying to get into North Korea on fake passports. We finally got our visas, said goodbye to Gordon and Wendy, who were headed for the Brazilian customs line, and went back to the hotel for a nap. We were going to go straight to Santa Cruz, a 16 hour train ride, but we just couldn't get ourselves motivated, and we were loving our clean and cool hotel room. So we decided to buy our train tickets for the next day. But it turned out we couldn't have gone that day anyway, the tickets were sold out, and the buses weren't running because of a protest on the streets. Later that day, as we were eating more chicken, we met a couple from Cardiff, Wales, who were on their way to live in Canada for two years and squishing some traveling in before. They planned to fly to LA and drive up the Pacific Coast Highway to Vancouver!

We finally made it out of Puerta Quijello and onto the train. The train went really slowly, but we slept a lot, so it wasn't bad. We rolled into Santa Cruz, stored our bags at the bus station, and went to the center to wait for our couchsurfing host to get off work. We had the “Americano” breakfast at a nice cafe downtown for $4.50US. It included 3 eggs, 3 big pieces of bacon, some hashbrowns, a croissant, a big glass of fresh orange juice and a cup of tea. Amazing. It was just amazing.

At 4pm we took a cab to Katie's house. She lived in the wealthy part of town, as she teaches science at a private school. But even the wealthy part of town looks like a kinda not great part of a US town. She's 25, from Portland, and an ex-Mormon. She's here teaching Biology at the nearby private school for rich kids in Santa Cruz. She was a really sweet, mature, independent girl. We also met her boyfriend, Daniel, a Santa Cruz local, when he went with us to see a movie downtown. It was so lovely to see a movie! I hadn't been to a movie theater in 4 months, which is super long for me.

Then the next day we left for a town 3 hours away called Samaipata. It is, of course, an old colonial town. But very near are some ancient indigenous called El Fuerte. We went up and took a tour of them, and it was really cool. I was more enchanted then Jesse and the other girls on our tour. On the top of the hill is a huge rock sort of covering the tip of the hill. Ancient peoples carved symbols and seats and other things into the rock because they believed that it was a holy place, due to the location. The hill is in between the Amazon, the Chaco and Andes mountains, and the sun rises and sets at the points of the surrounding mountains. There were ruins of Inca houses as well as Spanish conquistador houses.

After the ruins we went to an animal refuge, which turned out to be one of the best moments of my life! There were tons of monkeys just running around and they would come and sit on your shoulders. There were also dogs, kittens, horses, parrots, goats, a turtle, etc. There was just one puppy, a fat, adorable little guy who I just couldn't put down. At one point I had the puppy, a mama monkey, and her baby all on my lap. It was just cute overload and I never wanted to leave!

Samaipata is in the region where Ernesto “Che” Guavarra began his attempt at revolution in Bolivia. Since Jesse studied Latin American history and we both had a keen interest in Che, we wanted to try and do the “Che Tour,” which takes you to the place he was captured, killed, presented to the public after death, and buried. We went to talk to a tour company about the tour, but it was $150 per person for one night and two days, so we decided no, that we would try to go to just one of the spots ourselves, Valle Grande, where Che was flown after being assassinated, and laid out for the press and locals to view. And where, in 1997, his body was found buried under the airstrip.

After asking around about the bus with about 8 different people (Latin Americans don't like to be unhelpful by saying “I don't know.”), we determined the single daily bus to Valle Grande would go by the highway between 11 and 2pm. We headed down there by 10:30, and while we were walking we ran into the guy who owned the tour company we had visited the other day! And Jesse told him we were on our way back to Santa Cruz! And then he started walking with us down to the highway! A bus to Santa Cruz even stopped to see if we wanted a ride! Jesse sheepishly admitted we were trying to see if we could get a bus to Valle Grande... he didn't seem insulted though!