Today was packed with a lot of driving. Sam and I woke up and scrambled to get dressed. Fortunately for us, Ana, our NGO, had not arrived yet; however, it wasn't long before she did. The person at the front desk of our hostel had taken our passports as a deposit for our Wi-Fi password and key, which felt sketchy, but we got them returned all safe and sound. Ana, to my surprise, was a young engineer probably in her late 20's or early 30's. She was from Spain and spoke fluent Spanish and English. She detailed our plan for the day and was thorough with some paperwork we had to sign. She had a good energy about her. After packing the truck, our driver Jose drove us to Achacachi, which was our first stop on the way to Sorata. Before our drive, I noticed older women wearing the iconic hats that were present in Bolivian photos. They were very traditional, but I was surprised at the frequency of how many women wore them. Men wore a kind of fedora which was also interesting, and I gathered that the outfits and style of clothing was incredibly gendered.
Our drive was slow, to start. I noticed initially that there were dogs everywhere. It reminded me of Costa Rica a lot. They all looked so lazy and happy, but were thin and hungry as well. After leaving La Paz, we entered the altiplano, which was a massive span of tundra that was dotted with brick houses. The back drop of our drive entailed a few large, snowy mountains; I later learned from Jose that these mountains had snow on them year-round. This road was much smoother than the previous roads that were filled with potholes in La Paz. I learned that the altiplano is technically a part of La Paz, but is separated enough that it feels like a different city altogether. I say city lightly, because it was more of the same bleak homes with multiple little "tiendas" on the sides. Several people were selling stuff on the side of the road, and there was a lot of unfinished construction on the homes in which they had set up shop. We learned that they didn't have to pay full prices for an unfinished upper story, so there were several concrete pylons with rebar sticking out detailing this phenomenon. The drive there was even more boring after the charm of the back drop diminished, as the altiplano really was a plano in the sense that it was incredibly flat and dull. It reminded me of Nevada, in the way that you had very barren terrain with multiple mountains, although the altiplano was probably twice as high as Nevada's elevation. Our elevation was around 13,000 feet for the majority of our drive, and we felt it with every breath.
La Paz, view from the hostel
We stopped for about an hour in a small town called Huarina for lunch. There were numbered "restaurants" that had a few abuelas cooking with piles of fish hanging out of the sides of each stall. We sat at a picnic table while Ana ordered 7 plates of trucha (trout) and a cheese plate for Sophie, who was vegetarian. It came out in about 10 minutes, but was some of the best fish I've ever had. Our trout was served over rice, con una papa negra native to Bolivia, and a slab of some savory cheese. There was a yellow salsa dabbed on top that was a bit spicy but ultimately enriched the flavors of the trout. If it was served in San Francisco, it would be $30 at half the size and authenticity. The fish was breaded in some sort of flour/cornmeal before being well fried, and was incredibly tasty. Accompanied with our meal was a sort of peach tea drink that didn't taste saturated or sweet, and was delicious. Afterwards we had a second course of some sort of soup, which cleansed our palettes and concluded the meal. I'm usually fairly picky, but I found this street food/restaurant experience absolutely wonderful. The whole meal was $3 per person, which was crazy considering the amount of work this one woman was doing. After this, we packed up and went to Achacachi.
Achacachi was the reason that we didn't travel last time due to rioting and transportation roadblocks, but when we showed up, we only found a peaceful place bustling with markets and people. We were originally hesitant to explore at first, but needed to stop to go to the restrooms as well as grab breakfasts for the week. This was the first time that we were actually out interacting with the people, and our Spanish was fairly fresh, but we got by. We bought some scone-like breads that looked appetizing, as well as some apples and oranges. We looked for some nuts or peanuts, but multiple locals told us that they would not be available for purchase anywhere near Achacachi. Although speaking in a foreign language was nerve-wracking at first, the people were friendly to foreigners. Although I've experienced this elsewhere, the poorest country in South America did not detract from the fact that people were charming, witty, and socially intelligent. Not only that, but helpful. We hesitated to ask questions in the beginning, but seeing as how our driver would ask for directions from the locals, we followed suit and were pleasantly surprised by the friendliness of the average Bolivian.
After about an hour and a half of driving, we arrived in Sorata. We had to meet with Stefan first, who was a guy from Switzerland who owned a coffee shop and was in charge of our Quincucirca project. He didn't fully speak either English or Spanish, but was fluent in German. It was a very odd circumstance. We didn't have much time to talk to him, but he detailed that there were several pressure overflows in his water distribution system (Quincucirca). He felt that the composition of the water itself was the main issue, but we found that the amount of elevation the water went through to get to his system was causing his problems. For reference, it was at least 3 km, which John stated is a huuuge pressure drop. His pipes would regularly break and have air in them due to the sheer amount of force, so next year we plan to reopen the trip in more detail and find the documents that illustrate the technical side of the system. Other than the pressure breaks, I believe the distribution system for the water source was fine. There were a few houses that received little pressure and ones that received too much, but we didn't have time to go into more discussion about it.
After discussing Quincucirca, we traveled up the side of a cliff (literally) to Choquecoa. The road was super dangerous, but our driver Jose was very qualified and did a great job of navigating. Talking to him later (he only spoke Spanish, which helped me practice), he said that he liked his work with EIA, our NGO. The road was one way, and even though the cliff face was very steep, there were no guard rails. There was frequent flooding and potholes, and if a car came the other way, we had to find a bank to pull off to let them pass. Every time we would turn a blind corner, Jose would honk his horn to signal that there was a car coming up. I was enjoying the ride more than I should, and the scenery of the mountain was so massive and majestic I couldn't help but stare in awe. It took about 25 minutes to get up, and it was just about dusk when we arrived. Multiple women were with their children as we climbed, wearing handmade, colorful tapestries woven into ponchos and long skirts. The houses and other structures were made of brick, clay, cement, and rebar. To my surprise, there was a lack of wooden structures despite the presence of what looked like eucalyptus trees. We parked on the side of a street, and got out to stretch our legs a bit in our new home.
Choquecoa was beautiful, albeit sparse with homes and corn farms. We made our way up to our "school", which was more just like a big meeting room with a table and a side closet room. The climb alone was only 500 feet or so, but had us winded nevertheless. We were told that there was a latrine out back, so as Jose unpacked a few of us checked out the spot. It was barely considered a latrine, in the sense that there was a small pit surrounded by concrete, and would definitely not suffice for our 10 people there for 10 days. Sam and I figured that we would have to dig a new pit, so we spent about 45 minutes digging a hole next to the one placed for us. It was a bit of work, but we created something deep enough to last us for a few days. When we went back inside, the rest of the team had brought all of our bags. We took most of the evening to relax for a bit, and go over what we would be doing in the morning. The two women who were with us were our cooks, and made us a really good meal with steak, papas negras, and a few other things. Unfortunately for me, I didn't bring a sleeping bag, and although it was hotter during the day, the altitude caused a very cold night. I was able to sleep for a little bit using John's thermal blanket, but I definitely vowed to be more prepared the following night. All in all, an exhausting day full of travel and culture, but ultimately, that's what this trip is for.
“Restaurant” in Huarina
Trucha meal in Huarina
Our drive was slow, to start. I noticed initially that there were dogs everywhere. It reminded me of Costa Rica a lot. They all looked so lazy and happy, but were thin and hungry as well. After leaving La Paz, we entered the altiplano, which was a massive span of tundra that was dotted with brick houses. The back drop of our drive entailed a few large, snowy mountains; I later learned from Jose that these mountains had snow on them year-round. This road was much smoother than the previous roads that were filled with potholes in La Paz. I learned that the altiplano is technically a part of La Paz, but is separated enough that it feels like a different city altogether. I say city lightly, because it was more of the same bleak homes with multiple little "tiendas" on the sides. Several people were selling stuff on the side of the road, and there was a lot of unfinished construction on the homes in which they had set up shop. We learned that they didn't have to pay full prices for an unfinished upper story, so there were several concrete pylons with rebar sticking out detailing this phenomenon. The drive there was even more boring after the charm of the back drop diminished, as the altiplano really was a plano in the sense that it was incredibly flat and dull. It reminded me of Nevada, in the way that you had very barren terrain with multiple mountains, although the altiplano was probably twice as high as Nevada's elevation. Our elevation was around 13,000 feet for the majority of our drive, and we felt it with every breath.
La Paz, view from the hostel
We stopped for about an hour in a small town called Huarina for lunch. There were numbered "restaurants" that had a few abuelas cooking with piles of fish hanging out of the sides of each stall. We sat at a picnic table while Ana ordered 7 plates of trucha (trout) and a cheese plate for Sophie, who was vegetarian. It came out in about 10 minutes, but was some of the best fish I've ever had. Our trout was served over rice, con una papa negra native to Bolivia, and a slab of some savory cheese. There was a yellow salsa dabbed on top that was a bit spicy but ultimately enriched the flavors of the trout. If it was served in San Francisco, it would be $30 at half the size and authenticity. The fish was breaded in some sort of flour/cornmeal before being well fried, and was incredibly tasty. Accompanied with our meal was a sort of peach tea drink that didn't taste saturated or sweet, and was delicious. Afterwards we had a second course of some sort of soup, which cleansed our palettes and concluded the meal. I'm usually fairly picky, but I found this street food/restaurant experience absolutely wonderful. The whole meal was $3 per person, which was crazy considering the amount of work this one woman was doing. After this, we packed up and went to Achacachi.
Achacachi was the reason that we didn't travel last time due to rioting and transportation roadblocks, but when we showed up, we only found a peaceful place bustling with markets and people. We were originally hesitant to explore at first, but needed to stop to go to the restrooms as well as grab breakfasts for the week. This was the first time that we were actually out interacting with the people, and our Spanish was fairly fresh, but we got by. We bought some scone-like breads that looked appetizing, as well as some apples and oranges. We looked for some nuts or peanuts, but multiple locals told us that they would not be available for purchase anywhere near Achacachi. Although speaking in a foreign language was nerve-wracking at first, the people were friendly to foreigners. Although I've experienced this elsewhere, the poorest country in South America did not detract from the fact that people were charming, witty, and socially intelligent. Not only that, but helpful. We hesitated to ask questions in the beginning, but seeing as how our driver would ask for directions from the locals, we followed suit and were pleasantly surprised by the friendliness of the average Bolivian.
After about an hour and a half of driving, we arrived in Sorata. We had to meet with Stefan first, who was a guy from Switzerland who owned a coffee shop and was in charge of our Quincucirca project. He didn't fully speak either English or Spanish, but was fluent in German. It was a very odd circumstance. We didn't have much time to talk to him, but he detailed that there were several pressure overflows in his water distribution system (Quincucirca). He felt that the composition of the water itself was the main issue, but we found that the amount of elevation the water went through to get to his system was causing his problems. For reference, it was at least 3 km, which John stated is a huuuge pressure drop. His pipes would regularly break and have air in them due to the sheer amount of force, so next year we plan to reopen the trip in more detail and find the documents that illustrate the technical side of the system. Other than the pressure breaks, I believe the distribution system for the water source was fine. There were a few houses that received little pressure and ones that received too much, but we didn't have time to go into more discussion about it.
Me, posing with Coca leaves
After discussing Quincucirca, we traveled up the side of a cliff (literally) to Choquecoa. The road was super dangerous, but our driver Jose was very qualified and did a great job of navigating. Talking to him later (he only spoke Spanish, which helped me practice), he said that he liked his work with EIA, our NGO. The road was one way, and even though the cliff face was very steep, there were no guard rails. There was frequent flooding and potholes, and if a car came the other way, we had to find a bank to pull off to let them pass. Every time we would turn a blind corner, Jose would honk his horn to signal that there was a car coming up. I was enjoying the ride more than I should, and the scenery of the mountain was so massive and majestic I couldn't help but stare in awe. It took about 25 minutes to get up, and it was just about dusk when we arrived. Multiple women were with their children as we climbed, wearing handmade, colorful tapestries woven into ponchos and long skirts. The houses and other structures were made of brick, clay, cement, and rebar. To my surprise, there was a lack of wooden structures despite the presence of what looked like eucalyptus trees. We parked on the side of a street, and got out to stretch our legs a bit in our new home.
Choquecoa was beautiful, albeit sparse with homes and corn farms. We made our way up to our "school", which was more just like a big meeting room with a table and a side closet room. The climb alone was only 500 feet or so, but had us winded nevertheless. We were told that there was a latrine out back, so as Jose unpacked a few of us checked out the spot. It was barely considered a latrine, in the sense that there was a small pit surrounded by concrete, and would definitely not suffice for our 10 people there for 10 days. Sam and I figured that we would have to dig a new pit, so we spent about 45 minutes digging a hole next to the one placed for us. It was a bit of work, but we created something deep enough to last us for a few days. When we went back inside, the rest of the team had brought all of our bags. We took most of the evening to relax for a bit, and go over what we would be doing in the morning. The two women who were with us were our cooks, and made us a really good meal with steak, papas negras, and a few other things. Unfortunately for me, I didn't bring a sleeping bag, and although it was hotter during the day, the altitude caused a very cold night. I was able to sleep for a little bit using John's thermal blanket, but I definitely vowed to be more prepared the following night. All in all, an exhausting day full of travel and culture, but ultimately, that's what this trip is for.
“Restaurant” in Huarina
Trucha meal in Huarina
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