First Impressions (by Lawr)

Boarding the bus from Cusco to La Paz was a bit of a slap in the face for me.  It was my first time riding a Bolivian bus in 14 years, and I was immediately overcome with memories, some unpleasant, some funny, some wonderful, but each indelibly etched into my mind.  The rules of the road on Trans-Littoral Bus Lines are markedly less defined than those of the Peruvian bus companies.  Our bags were chucked indiscriminately under the chrome belly of the aged bus and the interior of the cabin had seen better days to be sure.  What was advertised as a luxury bus with folding bed-seats turned out to be a 1980s sub-Greyhound terrestrial behemoth.  Add to this scene the kids smoking cigarettes as soon as the lights went out and the "extra" passenger, laying prone in the pitch black aisle, over whose body I sprawled on the way to the bathroom in the middle of the night, and, well, it felt a bit like I was back in Bolivia again.

Our Sleeping Quarters

There is no denying that Bolivia is Peru's poorer cousin.  It's a place that feels rougher around the edges, less modern and less regulated.   Because of this though, Bolivia also feels more open and full of possibility.  There is no Machu Picchu here, no Pacific coast,  and not many paved roads.  It is a difficult country to travel through.  The runway at the Sucre airport, for example, is cleverly squeezed onto the only mesa in the mountainous terrain long enough to accommodate small jets landing--and it is barely long enough for those jets to come to a stop before pitching over the cliff at its terminus.  You won't easily find the first-world comfort foods here that are available in abundance on every street in downtown Cusco.  But aside from its lack of refinement, or perhaps because of it, Bolivia is an amazingly charming  country. 

Lake Titicaca farmland at dawn

Resplendent rickshaw at the border

The public restroom at the Peru/Bolivia border

A lack of imagination and a desire for a bit of tranquility after an all-night bus ride led us to stay the night at the very American Radisson hotel in the center of La Paz.  The view from our room of Illimani, one of the many 6000 meter peaks in the Cordillera Real, was stunning.

Because of the tight margins of the Sucre Airport, it is closed to air traffic if there is any rain at all.  Since we were traveling during the rainy season it should have come as no surprise that our flight the next morning was delayed and then eventually canceled.  So there we were, all packed up and nowhere to go.  We slumped back to La Paz, a bit deflated and bought bus tickets for the next day, just in case our flight was canceled again.  Thankfully, the clouds parted, we boarded, and arrived in sunny Sucre on December 21st. 

We hadn't been able to reach Antero and Martha from La Paz, and they were mystified when we didn't arrive on the 20th.  We were equally mystified when we knocked on their door, surrounded by our suitcases on the sidewalk, and there was no answer.  There was also no answer when we called their phone.  Perhaps they were still in Finland?  Maybe there was some mishap and we wouldn't meet in Sucre after all...  We found a lovely hotel to spend the night in and went back to their house to drop off a note.  Happily we were met at the door by Yolanda, their housekeeper, who explained that they were just out for the day.  Antero came to the hotel that night to welcome us and we moved into their house the next morning. 

Thus began what has been a wonderful reconnection with dear friends, all of us now with children,  houses,  jobs, and a few more wrinkles.  Even though we haven't seen each other in years, we get along as easily as we ever did and find a lot of common joy in getting to know each others' new family members. 

 

 

 

While we all really missed spending the holidays in Kansas, it was very special to be a part of the Bolivian/Finnish Christmas tradition.  We danced, we ate, we put together the tree, we talked about Finnish Christmas trolls and Santa delivering stockings and gifts, and helped set up the altar of the glass-enclosed baby Jesus.  

 

Sophia dressed as the Tontu, the gift-delivering troll

  

Antero and Martha schooling us in Bolivian Christmas dancing  

Picana, a traditional Christmas meal from Santa Cruz, prepared with love by Zoila (Martha's Mom) and Martha

I have literally just scratched the surface of our visit here in Sucre, but my fingers are starting to rebel and I am not accustomed to sitting still for so long.   The sun is shining and I am going to go out and enjoy my last, delicious Sucrense afternoon before we go.