Me

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La Paz, Bolivia
Riding a mechanical bull at the ISU Fall Fun Fair Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia

Thursday, September 29, 2011

The Bolivian Amazon, Indigenous Protestors and Running at Altitude

As I was running this morning (more on that later) I reflected that it's been nine weeks since Greg and I moved to La Paz, Bolivia; our experience so far has been somewhat the antithesis of Mongolia in various and sundry ways, yet similar in others. I will elaborate.

Upon arrival, we moved into the former head of primary's residence. We soon discovered that though the house was spacious with an indoor tropical garden and large yard, it was nonetheless inadequate for our needs, mainly our need to be warm. House location in relation to the sun is extremely important in La Paz as there is virtually no central heating in residences or offices. Our place had some good morning sun that was soon to be blocked by a large apartment complex that is rapidly being constructed next door. Other large buildings blocked our sun at various times of the day so that when we returned home from school, the house was more often than not, colder inside than outdoors. We bought several...okay, five space heaters in an attempt to circumvent the cold, but they were only adequate in heating spaces we could close off. So, we were confined to the bedroom (not so bad for newlyweds), the office and the kitchen. The rest of the house was open to the extent that ten heaters could not do the job of making it livable without a down coat. Remember, we're in the southern hemisphere and came to La Paz with about six weeks left of winter, and at 12,000' winds and clouds can blow in quite rapidly. I won't elaborate on the ants and the broken items that the landlady had promised to fix before our arrival, nor will I mention the kitchen; we decided to bite the bullet, pay some out of our own pocket and look for new digs.

After a tedious search we finally settled on a residence in Serranias de Calacoto or The hills of Calacoto, a district in the expat and upper class Boliviano section of La Paz. The first house was also in Calacoto but much closer to school; we could walk in about seven minutes but we are quite happy driving the Land Cruiser the school provides in exchange for our present comfortable house. Our new home has multiple levels with beautiful furnishings and a kitchen that inspires; it does get cold but nothing like the previous house and I must admit that I am okay living in our gated 'bubble'. We have Ana who comes Monday through Friday to clean, do some grocery shopping and make our oatmeal and freshly squeezed mandarin juice in the morning before work. Her son Javier is our 'garden fairy'; the lawn is mowed, flowers pruned and watered and my special flower requests are duly purchased, potted and awaiting my appreciative eye upon return from a long day at school. Many Bolivians have full-time live in maids and drivers; we felt this was too extravagant and would be uncomfortable for all parties; I like to run around in my underwear in the morning and after work and I'm quite positive this is not an acceptable practice in Bolivian culture and would be frowned upon by Ana and Javier. Well, definitely by Ana.

Despite, or maybe in spite of various people's advice and warnings that I would not, could not and should not do any sort of exercise for the first three months in La Paz due to the extreme altitude, I've been running. I actually forced myself to wait until we had been here two and a half weeks then I tentatively and cautiously began brief forays around the neighborhoods of Calacoto. I must admit that I was somewhat concerned that I had permanently damaged my lungs after my initial run; I wheezed and coughed for a couple days but was undaunted in my effort to maintain my mental balance. Today, I ran 4.5 miles although 'run' is a relative term. La Paz is not flat. So when I run, I am either going up or down, nothing in-between. It is such a gloriously freeing and satisfying feeling to feel the wind in my hair, the sweat flying off my brow as I beat feet as fast as is safe....downhill, all the while the nagging voice in the back of my mind is reminding me, no tormenting me with the cold hard fact that what one runs down, one must run back up. Or shuffle back up. This is closer to what I am capable of at this point in my tenure in the Worlds highest capital city; I do a slow jog/shuffle back up hill with walk breaks. I have worked my way up to 'running' back uphill about 2/3rds of the way. My goal is to eventually reach a level of fitness that will allow me to make it back up without walking. This may be totally unrealistic but I will doggedly tread on. In fact, there is rumored to be a marathon that is run on the El Alto which is at 14,000'. If so, I will definitely attempt it before we exit Bolivia. I told Greg that I'd like to specialize in ridiculously located marathons; gotta keep it interesting.

So out I go, mainly on the weekends but occasionally I can work in a run after school; we have been working such long hours that it is difficult to get home early enough to run with the inevitable dinner preparation and at-home school work I do. I could lighten my load by having Ana cook for us, but we discovered after week two that Ana's cooking repertoire is somewhat limited and very inconsistent; it's one of those things that's easier to do myself instead of being disappointed and pissed-off after a long day at work. In Ana's defense, I'm sure that if my Spanish was better, I could better inform her as to our preferences but again, it's easier to do myself. Plus, with our move to the new house, I am once again inspired to dabble in the kitchen with a whole new array of local produce, meats, cheeses, and grains to explore. Quinoa (see earlier post for a recipe I created) is a wonderfully blank canvas with which to layer flavors and textures and I am enjoying discovering South American spices and preparation techniques. I draw inspiration from a bounty of new taste sensations; local cheeses, salt from The Salar, artisanal organic breads, and both exotic and familiar fruits and vegetables. Despite this veritable Garden of Eden, Greg and I have both lost weight; about twenty-five pounds for Greg and around five or seven for me. Altitude makes digestion difficult so we are careful to eat lighter and earlier at night and we don't partake in the Bolivian tradition of eating the main meal of the day at lunch; makes me too tired to teach afterwards if I eat much more than a hearty salad. One last comment on food; chicken seems to have an interesting...tint. I'm not sure why chicken, even with the skin off, has an orangish hue. I have decided to ignore this for now, just as I was able out of self defense, to ignore the nearly albino-white yolks of Mongolian eggs.

You will note a couple pictures at the bottom of this blog entry; one is of me looking very dirty, sweaty and tired in front of an Amazonian waterfall. I had the amazing opportunity to take thirteen students to the Bolivian Amazon last week as part of ACS's Classrooms Without Walls (CWW) program. It had been a few years since the school participated in CWW trips as it was not deemed safe given the propensity of Bolivian nationals to strike at any time, anywhere, for any apparent reason. I have deleted most of the pictures with the kids unless they are of their backs for privacy reasons, but I think you can get a pretty good idea of our experience, nonetheless.

Click on the link below to view the pictures from my Amazonian trip:

As ACS's new superintendent, Greg was very interested in reviving this program for the obvious educational and experiential benefits it offers students (and staff). Protests have purportly diminished in frequency, however, we have already had two school closures due to protests in the city (today being one of those days). At the bottom of this entry, there are a number of links to articles that speak to what is happening in Boliva in general, and La Paz specifically. Do note that we have not seen or felt the effects of protests, other than greatly diminished traffic and city-wide school closures, because the protests mainly happen "Uptown" which is, well, uptown from our area. However, we don't take the potential closing down of the city lightly. There is another group that is agitating for taxation independence from La Paz; it appears that taxes are collected from towns surrounding La Paz but most of the benefits flow into La Paz, in particular, uptown and El Alto area. There are different trains of thought regarding whether this situation will blow up or not; they are the ones who have shut down the city today and there is talk that they could shut down the city for a couple weeks. This would mean no fuel or food would come into the city and apparently there is about a two-three day fuel supply, not sure how long food would last. So, we did a huge 'shop' last Friday so we have supplies for a good month and we've increased our water supply as well. I don't anticipate any problems but we like to be prepared. Our last month in Mongolia saw extreme fuel shortages to the point that we couldn't find enough fuel to leave the city for the weekend. It is so interesting living in burgeoning (or stagnant as the current case may be) democracies.

Bolivia's Evo Morales suspends Amazon road project (BBC):
Turning Point for Morales: Bolivian Police Repress and Detain Indigenous Marchers (Andean Information Network):
http://ain-bolivia.org/2011/09/turning-point-for-morales-bolivian-police-repress-and-detain-indigenous-marchers/

At any rate, the trip with the kids was absolutely amazing. We met at school on Monday the 19th at 4:00 a.m., got the kids ready (checked bags for non 'school appropriate' substances) and left for the airport. A short but amazing Amazonas flight deposited us in Rurrenabaque; amazing that forty short minutes can take one through the snowy Andes highland passes to the steamy jungle. We arrived at about 7:50 a.m. then took the local rattletrap bus into town to the travel office that the school booked through. A light breakfast of personal pizzas and chocolate croissants (I ate a PB&J I had brought) and a walk through town passed the time until our four-hour drive via 4X4 to the Pampas grasslands. We changed into shorts and flip flops before loading our backpacks onto two long boats for a three-hour ride through the river. The banks of the river were impregnated with Alligator, Caymans, Capybara (the world's largest rodents), blue heron, Fisher Hawks and copious other winged and clawed creatures. Our first camp was...rustic...but it served it's purpose as depository for our sweat and weary bodies after a day that began at 2:45 a.m. and ended at 10 p.m.

The following day, we took the boats on a short jaunt to take a walk through the Pampas, a grassland area during the dry season (which is just ending), and part of the river during the wet season. In fact, the river can rise up to 3 meters (about 9 feet) and is home to anacondas as well as the usual suspects found on the river. Our walk through the Pampas was hot and dusty though paradoxically, we were covered with a thick film of moisture from the river's humidity. We did not find any of the "famed anaconda" that lurk in the area but three of the kids did find wasps. I will admit straight away that it wasn't me; I know, I know, incredibly selfish but I swell up bigger than a balloon at a birthday party and I did not remember to bring my (just in case) epi pen. The kids were fine, very little swelling and really, they were more concerned with their copious sweating and layer of dirt settling into every crease and fold.

We ended up back in Rurrenbaque at the end of this day is a wonderously clean and hospitable hotel. Early the next morning we took off on another, larger boat (this one even had a canopy!) for San Miguel El Bala, an ecotourist lodge. The river was wider, deeper and more majestic this time yet lacked the overflowing abundance of wildlife of our other foray. San Miguel was a wonderful place to stay, run by local indigenous peoples who were formerly nomadic forest hunters who were encouraged by the government over the past 150 years to settle. And settled they did, living off of raised chickens, a bit of agriculture and the sales of their sugar cane that is fresh pressed the old fashioned way by hand (and a lot of elbow grease) with a wooden turn-crank. The boys enjoyed trying their hand at the crank, pushing with full force as fresh juice squirted and streamed from the sugar cane poles. We drank a glass with a squeeze of fresh lime from the surrounding gardens, truly ambrosia.

Long, sweaty, mosquito infested hikes took us to natural waterfalls, the local village and a survey of traditional hunting traps replete with rigged-up bows and arrows and piles of rocks to crush unsuspecting prey. All too soon it was time for us to board our boat once again for Rurrenbaque for a quick overnight in yet another 3-star hotel. Early the next morning we flew out with our thirteen exhausted 15 year-olds (and two equally drained adults) for La Paz. The plane ride back was uneventful once I asked one of the kids to switch seats with me; wedged into the back of the plane between Alvaro and two kids was nearly the end of me. Flying back to high altitude definitely caused me to slow down for a day or two as I it took a couple days for my extremities to stop tingling as I adjusted. About ten minutes on our oxygen tank helped enough for me to take a much needed nap after dropping the kids off at school to be collected by parents. This trip was definitely the hardest physically yet most rewarding I've ever taken with kids; I feel so fortunate that I was chosen to go to this particular locale and I'm so happy I was able to know kids I normally don't have contact with. What a great job I have!











The natural pool that we hiked to with the kids...our guides aid it was a mere kilometer through the jungle, felt like five miles to me with the mosquitoes, dank, treacherous terrain and humidity. At one point we had to maneuver down steps so steep we needed a guide rope to keep from plummeting down the hill. It was worth the extreme effort to reach our pristine destination and the kids couldn't get enough of the cool water.








The plane we took to and from Rurrenabaque...we flew out Friday morning the 23rd; the town residents set up flaming barricades on Monday the 26th to protect the indigenous protestors from being 'relocated' from the area. I am quite happy that I was not stuck in 'Rurre' for an indefinite period of time with 13 Fifteen year olds and rioters...would have made for a great story, though!











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