Miniature Dreams and Expiration Dates

It appears that at the ripe age of 30, I have officially expired. According to my new 55-year-old Bolivian friend Ernesto, this is the only truth.

January is the month of abundance in Bolivia. At all the markets they sell miniature everythings - cars, homes, stores, beauty parlors, butcher shops, currency, babies, animals, food, significant others, etc. If you can imagine it life-size, it probably exists in mini for your buying pleasure. The idea is that you buy these miniature reproductions of real-life desires in hopes that they will come to life-size fruition in the coming year. I was absolutely fascinated by this in La Paz, where my friend Frani and I spent countless hours at the Market of Dreams searching for a doll who grants your wishes when you let him smoke cigarettes.

Because I arrived in Copacabana during the last week of January, prayer for abundance is in full force. Every day there is a line of no less than 30 automobiles parked outside the church waiting to be blessed. The owner of each car, truck, or bus decks out the auto in their choice of style and deco before parading it in front of the church where each has a moment of blessing with the priest. This is followed by many photographs of the family or auto owners in front of the car and drinking a lot of champagne in the street. Not sure how they feel about drinking and driving after this.

On Saturday, I headed to hike the hill overlooking the lake housing the stations of the cross. I was halfway up when I met the acquaintance of Ernesto. There were several stone tables where men and women were blessing all of the dreams of the locals. Ernesto explained to me all about abundance, and told me that I, too, should get blessed for myself and my family to have a prosperous 2012. He assured me there was no cost, just depended how generous I wanted to be with a donation. I told him I would come see him after I climbed the hill. 

I climbed to the top to find another small market selling miniature lives. Then I stumbled upon a family picnicking overlooking the lake on a blanket with a spread of mini cars, trucks, homes, and money. They were drinking beers and celebrating all that they were hoping the year would bring them. I asked if this was customary after purchasing this miniature life, and they replied that yes, it was.

I headed back down the hill, and when I arrived at Ernesto’s table, he had company. I didn’t want to interrupt, and simply waved on my way down. He motioned me over and introduced me to his “family”, seated around the stone table. On the table was a box full of fake US dollars ($20,000 to be exact), what appeared to be a small construction site, and a miniature hair salon. They were also drinking beer from miniature cups, and invited me to join them. They explained that they had come to see Ernesto to bless their dreams. The wife explained that she would like to own her own beauty parlor. In order to do that, they would first need the money, then would need to build the shop, and then they could have it all. For this reason, they had to buy each part of the dream to make sure it all worked out the right way. 

I warily accepted the toast, knowing Ernesto would find a way to charge me. The two men started guessing each other’s ages, and then I knew they weren’t related. They asked me about my life in the US, and how I liked Bolivia. The show-stopper was when Ernesto and this visiting family realized that I was 30, single, and childless. Ernesto looked at me with sad eyes at first, and then began to laugh, somewhat wickedly. “My dear, I am sorry to tell you that you have expired.”. “Beg your pardon,” I replied.  I wasn’t sure why something seemingly so serious was so funny. He put his hand gently on my shoulder and said not to worry, that being expired wasn’t so bad. It’s just that my time to find a husband had passed, and that probably no man in his right mind would marry a woman over 30. What?

I finished the toast, starting to make my exit, when Ernesto hinted that he expected some Bolivianos for his trouble. Thing is, I would say he did opposite of blessing my life. The father of the family noticed my discomfort and assured me there was no reason to pay, that I was their invited guest to celebrate their upcoming beauty parlor business. So I stayed, and as Ernesto downed more beers, he assured me that I probably wasn’t totally expired, but that if I didn’t find a husband by 33 I would most likely be doomed. I excused myself telling them I needed to get a head start on husband hunting. But I refuse to buy a miniature husband from the market of dreams. That just seems like taking it too far.

cigarettes make dreams come true. disclaimer - cigarettes do not REALLY make dreams come true.

Frani and I running around La Paz looking to buy dreams and taste all the local street food

 

 

church in Copacabana ready for celebration

ready to be blessed

entrance to walk the stations

picnic for cars and houses

pick your make and model

money, construction, beauty salon, beer

Altitude, rain and some road-side fires

The past week has been a mixture of hot and cold, high and low, city and nature. I went to La Paz with the idea that it would be my window to adventure. I had high hopes of adjusting to the altitude and facing the challenge of climbing Huyana Potosí (a 3-day 6,000 meter ice climb outside of the city). But La Paz was cold, and it was always raining. And I just wanted to be warm. Because of the forecasted rain for the week, I had to wait it out in La Paz to fully adjust to the altitude and make sure the rain would pass before setting out. But I got antsy. 

So I decided to do the downhill mountain bike trip down the most dangerous road in the world. We drove up to higher altitude and were greeted by blanketed white snow and freezing rain. As we began our descent, I couldn´t see 4 feet in front of me nor feel my fingers to break around the curves. I hoped I wouldn´t be one of the casualties this road sees every year. After about 20 minutes, the altitude got me. Not only could I not see clearly or feel my extremities, but the nausea set in, and it felt that at any minute I might pass out. The guide told me to hang in there as we would be about 500 meters lower in a matter of 10 minutes. Because I´m a self-proclaimed bad ass, I took that great safety advice on the most dangerous road. We stopped next in a little village where I chomped on coca leaves like it was going out of style. I immediately regained control over my body.

I finished the ride without a hitch, thoroughly enjoying the climate change from freezing white snow to humid green jungle. We lounged by a pool after lunch, and it was then I knew there was no way in hell I would be signing myself up to spend 3 days in freezing weather ice climbing at an altitude double that which made me sick during the bike ride. No thanks. Instead, I made plans to get myself out of the altitude and out of the cold. 

Enter my plan for a solo camping trip to Coroico. I took the bus down the mountain again and arrived mid-afternoon in the small village in the Yunguas. I had read about a great campsite less than 1 kilometer outside of town. Never believe when someone tells you something is less than 1km away because it´s probably a stretch of his or her imagination. The 45 minute uphill hike almost killed me, but I made it and snagged the last campsite where I set up camp, happy to be out of dirty, cold, and rainy La Paz and back to nature.

This excitement was somewhat short-lived as it rained torrentially the entire first night. Though I had thought ahead protecting the tent with a tarp overhead and underneath, the panic that my belongings would be soaked woke me up about every 15 minutes. So much for undisturbed peaceful sleep in the middle of nowhere. I awoke in the morning to find that everything was bone dry, which meant I wasted an entire night of sleep for nothing. NBD. The sun came out early the next day, and I spent the day reading and napping, moving from a lounge chair at the pool to the hammock under the shade. In the afternoon I hiked up tot he meditation room and treated myself to some yoga and more peace and quiet. It was luxurious, sunny and beautiful all day. 

Enter evening number two with another all-night torrential downpour. This time I wasn´t so lucky. When I went to bed myself and my belongings were dry. Then I woke up in a puddle of water at 2am. I wanted to cry, but for once didn´t. I stuffed my most prized posessions in a plastic bag up my shirt, and tried to sleep. But it was cold and I was miserable. In the morning I was soaked to the bone, my arms and legs covered in huge red welted mosquito bites. I decided then to cut the solo camping trip short and head back to hostel life for a spell. 

Once everything dried out I packed up, hiked out, and took the next bus to La Paz where I caught a bus toward Copacabana. Never a lack of excitement though. Wouldn´t you know that there was a highway protest that day, and we had to wait for over an hour to cross a certain section of the road. As we sat, patiently waiting to cross, we could see fires burning on the road ahead and as much as I wanted to get to the lake, I felt ok about turning back for La Paz. But we kept on, and eventually drove along the shoulder past hordes of protestors, armed police, still-burning and smouldering fires, and huge rocks in the road. Thankfully we arrived safely to the lake only a bit delayed.

a bit cold but all geared up to go

could still feel my hands at this point

look at that scenery. great weather for the world´s most dangerous road.

as we finally started making our way down it got a lot greener

we made it

and are rewarded by this

view from my campsite

footloose and fancy-free

and then the rain came. and the mosquitos. and it was over.

Walking On Sunshine (Salar de Uyuni Part 4)

The fourth and final day of this trip is maybe inexplicable in words. Not even sure that the pictures really captured what we were so lucky to have seen. I imagine it`s the closest you can get to walking in heaven still being on earth. With that, photos from the last day...

just before sunrise. dry salt/wet salt

reflections

photographer

here.

comes.

the.

sun.

dream team

shadows

awe

cactus

cactus flower

driving

excitement

hipster salt tasting

art

without pants

boxers in hand

tiny dancer

this is the pg cut

epic tour group

and scene.

hipster interview

my brother would be proud. this one´s for you michael!

Day of the Shower (Salar de Uyuni Part 3)

Wegot to sleep in until 7 on Thursday. The altitude had been messing with my body, and I slept horribly both nights of the trip. Maybe a total of 3 hours of sleep. I can´t imagine what it would be like to have insomnia. I thought I would go crazy eyes wide open all that time yet so tired.

Our first stop was the Árbol de Piedra, surrounded by other rock formations which everyone was climbing followed by 5 more lagoons. By the end of the lagoons we didn´t think we could look at lagoons anymore. I guess we could say we were lagooned out. I know, poor us, right?

rock tree

the guys checking stuff out under the hood

Flo - photographer/dj/social media expert/part-time model

i want a baby llama. so freakin cute.

dan and i watched the llama kiss about 5 other tourists before us. for some reason she wasn`t interested in us. sad face.

flo - dan - kelly - myth - man - legend

We stopped near another volcano where Dan and I challenged ourselves to a high-altitude hike before lunch. You have probably realized by now that we at no point decided NOT to do these things. Though doing activities at high altitude is NOT easy, we made it to the top and were rewarded by spectacular views and high-fives.

we reached the top

group photo after lunch

lunch table views

 

After lunch, the guides explained to us the next steps. Because it had been raining the past few days, we weren´t supposed to cross the Salar or stay in the salt hotel. They didn´t want to short us on those experiences, but wanted to make sure we were all comfortable with taking the adventure route. We agreed that we were. They are the best. We crossed the railroad tracks and there was no turning back. We crossed a small flat that took us to the salt hotel. Yes. A hotel. Made completely of salt. We licked everything to make sure.

no turning back - to the salt hotel!

 

 

We dropped our bags onto the salt floor and headed to climb the cactus-filled hill behind the hotel. Dan, Facu, Batiste, Veronica, and I climbed to the top, huffing and puffing as we went. At the top was a panoramic view of the entire Uyuni salt flat. If I hadn´t already had problems breathing it would have taken my breath away.

most amazing echoes ever.

panoramic

my 1st attempt at self-timer. FAIL.

win.

we got back from our hike we found a king in his castle of salt.

After tea time it was finally SHOWER TIME! After 3 full days of wearing the same clothes, greasy close to dreadlocked hair, it was glorious. $10 Bolivianos for a piping hot shower. Once we were all clean again, we had our last supper together and celebrated our awesomeness by toasting the night away with beer and wine. We think the other groups were jealous because they didn´t think ahead to buy booze as we did. Before hitting the hay, we took a group fieldtrip outside to check out the stars. Can you feel the love tonight?