In Bolivia, with patience

I arrived in Bolivia after some very cold days riding above 4000m in southern Peru and along the shores of Lake Titicaca. I decided to cross on the third day of protests and road blocks near the border where campesinos where protesting against increased water tariffs and prevented any vehicles passing by building bonfires in front of several bridges and putting large boulders on the Panamerican. I had to make some detours through a deserted and vandalized town, luckily during their midday march to the town hall, sneaking through the barrage of trucks to make it to the nearby border town. I made in to La Paz that night and met Jenn the following evening having flown from London to a significant change in elevation. Jenn is here for a couple months, we’ll be riding together as much as we can and she’ll catch buses between big towns as we can’t carry all our luggage together with Sixto.      

Bolivia is beautiful open spaces, it’s mountains, deserts and rainforests and dramatic changes in weather conditions, from sunny and mild lowland days to bitterly cold nights at height. It’s evidently poorer and cheaper than my previously visited South American countries. It’s cute children, reserved men and women in big skirts, round hats and brightly coloured sack on their backs. It’s dusty roads and eager dogs racing us by humble and deserted adobe villages. Most of the country is at high altitude and covers the majority of the Andes Altiplano - the high and dry plains between the mountain ranges.

The Tiahuanco were the first prosperous civilisation in modern day Bolivia with art, architecture and agriculture similar to that of Ancient Egypt, thriving for a millenium until being overtaking by the Inca empire.

When the Spanish arrived in the 16^th century, modern day Bolivia wasn’t affected significantly as it was so far from the Spain’s new world capital at Lima. Life continued as usual until silver was discovered in Potosi. Potosi’s Cerro Rico (Rich Hill) mines brought unimaginable wealth to the Spanish crown. Indigenous Bolivians were then reduced to slaves and farmers working to gain permission to cultivate lands they had used for many years. The first call of colonial resistance in the whole of Latin America came in the capital, Sucre, resulting in independence in 1824. Later on Bolivia’s geographic vulnerability led to attack by Chile in the 1879 Pacific War where Bolivia relinquished its coastal territory and subsequently lost valuable territory to all its other neighbours – Peru, Paraguay, Brazil and Argentina in other battles.

 

You wouldn’t believe it when seeing the conditions of its towns and villages but Bolivia is a world leader in minerals – in lead, zinc, tin and silver. The controversial leader, the first indigenous leader in Latin America, with little friends outside of Cuba and Venezuela is either loved or hated by his people, his name sprayed everywhere from previous elections to the upcoming one. It’s a relatively frustrating country to travel in, always with a lack of or unreliable information and patience is necessary when dealing with the people, a straight answer is hard to come by and what would seem like an efficient way of doing things is never the Bolivian way of doing things. With this brings a slow and relaxed way of living, passing one day to another. Every visit to the petrol station is interesting here. Internationally registered vehicles are charged nearly three times more than Bolivians for the one type of petrol offered. When I pull in, the attendant typically races over to check my plates when he sees me. He or she then confirms the inflated cost before filling up. I suggest a personal tip if they give me the local price, usually met with a stern no, pointing at the surveillance cameras until they eventually smile and agree except in cities where there’s almost always a strong rejection with many attendants and sometimes a policeman on duty.         

A few days in La Paz we take in some nightlife, join a walking tour and make the most of the local markets and their impressive produce, cooking at the hostal and enjoy the free locally brewed beer.

Once Jenn has acclimatized we venture out to the Sajama National Park, near the border with Chile and home to Bolivia’s highest peak at 6,542 m.a.s.l. It’s a great ride out together, basking in the sunshine along the well paved and desolate desert highway with a few days of luggage and snow-capped mountains in the distance. We arrive at the small tight-knit community living in a difficult landscape and within a day we’re invited to join in the annual vicuna shearing ceremony.

We set off in the back of a cramped pick-up truck one afternoon with women, children and a travelling couple we met to build a fence which the following day will be essential in capturing a group of vicunas – an imposing wild animal of the llama family which roam in the national park amongst the plains between the desert mountains. Every December members of the community join together to catch, shear then free the vicunas because of their valuable, fine wool. We’re told the wool is exported to Italy because of the lack of local textile machinery and the money is used to support the village.    

The elders set us off to work, digging holes, erecting the posts and fixing the fencing. It’s arranged in a V-shape with a circle at the ridge where the vicunas are to be directed to, trapped and fenced off.

Digging a hole

 

 

The following day we take Sixto out and follow the convoy back towards the plain, splitting in two groups to wait patiently on opposing sides. Jenn and I are given streamers to attract attention and divert the vicunas towards the fence once they finally present themselves.

We all advance once we have the attention of the herd and slowly enclosed them into the fenced area.

 

 

The vicuanas are given a chance to settle, some shiver and shake, others fight the fence with one escaping beneath it, but finally the remaining ten or so huddle together and rest. Some women arrange some refreshments – beer, Bolivian cola and coca leaves which are shared around in communal cups, firstly pouring some on the ground, an offering to Pachamama then drinking and chewing on the coca leaves.  

One by one the men tackled the vicunas, one hugging the upper body while another blindfolded them to calm them, then grabbing its legs, placing it on the blanket and tying its feet to a rope secured into the ground. The women then got to work, shearing away with stiff old clippers. 

 

 

 

The vicunas are returned to the enclosure until all have been sheared and were then blessed with confetti and released back out into the wild.

 

We spend more time in the national park, checking out some geysers and swam in the hot springs.

 

 

Hanging out with cheeky Carlos and his brother who’s family ran the hospedaje we stayed at.