Coca and Fate.

Internet is Cheap in La Paz. Everything is Cheap in La Paz. Today, at the flea market, I bought some soap (I left my soap in Lima.. that's how many days ago? eew.), some argyle socks, a belt buckle, a knit hat, and a badass chorizo sandwich for 50 bolivianos total, which is about 7 dollars.

I last left off in Puno, as I recall. Well, the morning I left, at 630am, while eating my 75 cent breakfast (egg sandwich, Maté de Coca) , a man ran into the cafeteria out of breath and was seized by some security guards and hostal personnel. Apparently he was a thief. Ididn'tt flinch for some reason.. good breakfast entertainment. Picked up at 7am, I left the Hostal Urus to take the bus across the border to Copacabana, on the Bolivian side of Lake Titicaca. I gave up my seat so couple could sit next to each other, and ended up next to a chatty Irishman named Gav, who I actually saw staying at my Hostal in La Paz last night.
The border crossing was a little hairy. ThePeruviann border guard told me I needed my immigration paper from when I entered in Lima, which was in my backpack in the bottom of the bus, which was quickly ascending the hill to cross over into Bolivia. I sprinted up the hill after the bus, wondering if anyone was about to shoot a man running over the border waving his arms, and caught the bus after it had crossed under the arch that signified the actual border (see picture). I wasn't even sure where my backpack was, as somebody else had put it under the bus for me. The bus folks weren't too happy, but I got my paper and was able to get through immigration on both sides with no problem. The Bolivian guards didn´t even look at my passport picture, they just stamped in the book and gave me a piece of paper. So much for security.

Arriving in the rain in Copacabana, I spent the extra 50 cents (about $2.75 for the night) for a room on the top floor that opened on to a patio with a sweet view. Alojamiento Aroma, it was called, a little ironically, as the bathrooms could have smelled sweeter. I napped until some partying Argentinians move in next door and took care of business: food - the best meal in town, stuffed lake trout with rice, veggies, bread, and papas fritas, for about 3.50, a ticket to the isla del sol the next day, batteries, etc. Right before sunset I climbed a big hill just north of town that looked out all over the lake. awe-inspiring. When I got to the top, some dude asked me for some of my water, and I told him I had just climbed the hill (it really was steep and tall), and he was the one that was thirsty! He was kidding, turns out. Those Bolivians! Anyway, I rocked out a little harmonica as it got dark and made my way back into town, to sleep as soon as the power fortuitously went out at 11pm, shutting my still-partying Argentinian neighbors, from whose room some pretty heavy clouds of smoke exited (along with fits of laughter) as I walked to the bathroom.

8:30 am oSundayay, I took the overloaded boat Amazonas for the 2 hour trip to the north of Isla del Sol. Inca legend says the first man came out of Titicaca there.. I was skeptical at first, as it rained the whole way there, and the island seemed rather dreary, but it turned out to be spectacular. I made some Jewish Argentinian friends on the way over, speaking mostly witEzekielal (Zeke, he said - and he could pronounce the Z properly! mosSpanishsh speakers call me 'Sack') about politics, school, etc. I thought I'd seen the last of them until one of them came to the hostal I had already chosen as my lodging - Hostal San Francisco, owned by the very soft-spoken elderly Francisco and operated by someone who must have been his daughtegranddaughtereniecece, Lili. I was in a room with three beds by myself, and said they could put a couple crazy Argentinians in there with me. And thus began my tenuous affair with Julieta and Liliana, the Porteñas (that's what they call folks from Buenos Aires) that Fate kept throwing at me. Lets call them L and J from now on.

Nice girls, both, I´d noticed them on the boat over. Julieta studies drama, Liliana international relations. I didn´t talk to them about my semi Jew-ness - wasn´t sure if that´d be a selling point. Anyway, we were friends immediately, as I was hanging my underwear all over the place. -I wasn´t even that irritated by Liliana´s yelling in her sleep "yes, thats how it is!", "No, he´s already left!" Curious.

Anyhow, I lunched with some of the boys from the Hebraic Association - who were very picky about their food, Dañiel, Johnathan, Zeke, and some other guy. I ate some overpriced spaghetti and soup and set off for a hike through the ruins. I had washed my clothes in a bin lent my by Lili from the hostal, and put them out to dry in the afternoon sun (it rains, but always clears up!). A spectacular hike, during which I certainly saw more burros than gringos, out to some ruins that date back over a thousand years. There have been people here for a long time, since before Lake Titicaca was a lake, turns out. (we know this thanks in part to Cousteau´s exploration). Anyhow, I found myself far from home and with no raincoat when the winds and rain came early, something like th Edmund Fitzgeraldnd , but without the death. or the boat. ok, not much like it. but kind of. unprepared, I was, lets say. I was cold and wet when I got back to the hostal, and my weren'ts sure werent dry.

That night, I went for dinner by myself to a ´restaurant´ near the boat docks. I was the only one in this room in some family´s back yard, and served bywasn´taitress who wasn´t as tall as I was sitting down. I asked and she told me her name was Rosa, and she was great. All the kids on the island were incredibly cutholahey all said holo, buecuriosityh such curiousity and wonder. Especially when I walked down the road playing some harp. I wondered if there was some conspiracy to send all the cute voices to one little island at the top of the world. I mean we have cute ones in the U.S., but there was something special about these grubby little hands, square faces, and rosy cheeks that really made me feel welcome. Anyhow, back to dinner. Rosa served me a great meal, and I set to journaling and sketching until some more Argentinians came in. I spent the next couple hours with two couples, Damien and Angela, Celeste (celeste is spanish for a light blue) and Javier Delfino (I know his last name as we discovered it was the same as Carlos Delfino, the Piston reserve whose bobblehead is currently Taking up Space in my room at home.) They were a trip. Very nice folks, and irritated with the loudness of other Argentinians that seemed to be everywhere.

I crashed...
interlude for Dreamlog -
(warning - if you had any part in my conception, this might be awkward for you.)

I was going to be a truck driver, so I had this big semi parked out in front of my house. Some blonde girl, my girlfriend - not a person in real life - said she wanted to park it at the bottom of the driveway. I told her she couldn´t, but she went ahead and did it anyway, crashing into my neighbor´s house. I told her I didn´t want to tell her ´I told you so´, as she jumped on my back piggy-back style and said she loved me. I saw myself and her (face obscured) on my back in the reflection on my dad´s jeep, and I didn´t look happy.
Next, I´m doing some fairly explicit foolin around with some person in some random house, which I guess is mine, when I hear my parents pull in the driveway. I put on some girls jeans and go out to say hello, see how their trip was. We walk in together, to see this girl wearing my dads bathrobe vacuuming the carpet in front of the fireplace. hmm. I guess this was a ´sex dream´, of sorts.

...and awoke the next morning to yet another torrential downpour (so much for re-hanging up my clothes), and set out along the coastal trail to the south of the island. Some incredible views. Pictures, you know, just don´t do these things justice. My companions along the trail were the following
first, a young boy named Nuño, who chatted with me until we reached his house
then, a huge cow, for about 10 minutes
next, an old lady and her herd of sheep
then, a baby pig along the beach
then, I came upon a campesino named Sebastian, who showed me where he lived and told me to stop be some time. He also informed me that the boat I was planning on taking didn´t actually leave at 130 when I thought, rather at 4, so I should take my time.
then, Sebastian introduced me to his friend Sergio, probably 10 or so. Sergio and I walked about a half mile, sharing the cookies I´d brought in case of starvation until he had to turn off.

I arrived at the southern end of the island looking for a boat. Some locals offered me a ride, which I should have taken, because it would have been an adventure and I would have arrived earlier, but at the time I wasn´t so sure about getting in a boat with some random folks. And, Fate wouldn´t have thrown those two Argentinian girls at me again. I was glad to wait it out for a couple hours, as the views from the South of the island were incredible. I had exactly enough money to buy one egg sandwich and one passage back to the mainland, totalling 20 bolivianos, about $2.50. I chatted with some Australians who were traveling for a year (!) and read a little as I looked out over the water. Awesome.

About the Island - the people were amazing, they all spoke very softly, and it seemed like they all would have welcomed you into their family in a second, if you treated them with due respect. The kids were incredible, as I´ve said. Tranquilo on the island, everything at a slow pace, soft. They live without TV, without internet - though I´m sure technology has invaded a few select households, and seem to be entirely content with their lives of work and leisure, and even with the tourism that is the islands main industry. I thought they might all view me with disdain, but they really treated me like a friend, especially when they found I spoke spanish.

I saw L and J at the south port of the island, said hello and goodbye. The trip back on the boat was long and tiresome, and I still had to secure passage to La Paz. I found a little Microbus, bought a ticket, and saw L and J briefly while I was checking some internet. The bus was leaving town, when it stopped for a minute to let huffing and puffing L and J onto the bus, into the vacant seats in my row. hmmm... After an hour or so, we had to get off the bus so that the bus could be put on a barge and pulled across a straight. We had to pay an extra boliviano to take a little boat across. jeez. We made La Paz about 940pm or so, and I split a cab with L and J down to the center of town, saying goodbye with a kiss on the cheek for the last time. I think.

I´m currently staying at the Hostal Maya here in La Paz, where Ryan and Jin are supposed to be arriving tonight. I was supposed to leave tomorrow morning (damn my planning, booking the Inca trail the 20th, friday, and a bus from La Paz to Cuzco the 18th. Waaaay to rushed). However, no busses are allowed to cross the border tomorrow, so I´m stuck. At first, I thought, "what luck! Now I have a good excuse to postpone my Inca trail and stay in bolivia!", but they won´t let my postpone my Inca trail start date, friday, so now I´m forced to take a bus the 12 hours on thursday, go to bed, and get up at 5 the next morning for a 4 day hike. Not exactly ideal. And this is the only thing I´ve paid real money for! fer chrissake!

Interestingly the song that was playing in the travel agency when I got this bad news was Bonny Tyler, "Total Eclipse of the Heart", which was the favorite song of two Frenchmen who lived with me in Spain. It also reminds me of the time I was in Planned Parenthood´s Teen Troup in high school, and we did a wierd interpretive dance to that song, in which one person was surrounded by the others, each one wearing a sign denoting a particular drug. Then a friend would pull the person out from the clutches of the drugs. I requested to be crack, I recall. Go Big or Go Home.

Right, now I must wait it out, but i will get to spend a day with a couple of friendly faces - if I am able to find Ryan and Jin in this big city - and at least I´ve got clean clothes (the ones I ´washed´in my shampoo on the island finally dried last night, and the rest I paid about 1 dollar to have cleaned at the hostal) and an updated blog.