Trufis, Blockades, and Solstice
So concludes my first week in Cochabamba — and “eventful” would be an understatement.
My family and friends keep asking me to describe Cochabamba and I’m really lost for words. Our house, up the hill on the north side of town, overlooks a seemingly innumerable spread of high-rises, only demarcated by the lake to the south and the mountains beyond. Despite its immense size, the city seems quieter than it should be on most days, with the exception of holidays. Last Thursday the 23rd marked the holiday of San Juan. We went downtown to explore and found a huge community celebration, with endlesshot dog stands. Don’t ask me why. Bolivians, on sparing occasions, come out in droves and love to party. The people, in general, seem to like to take it easy. Our coordinator Anna recalled that the Bolivians lost to the Chileans because they invaded on Carnaval, when the Bolivians were relaxing. Even the protestors, who stage bi- and sometimes tri-weekly blockades and demonstrations that effectively shut down many parts of the city, never strike on the weekends or holidays.
These protests are one of the most confounding things I’ve seen here, and are vastly contrary to my own experience. The Bolivian government, wracked with corruption (see: president Evo Morales’ three presidential terms when only two are written into the constitution) and heavily influenced by drug money from narcoleros, has left the people deeply unsatisfied, but with little to no ability to actually affect change. The protestors’ blockades, while peaceful, bog down every aspect of actual productivity. This week alone, we were forced to get out of our trufi (Bolivian public transit — think minivan Uberpool) halfway through the ride and walk to our destination. At the office, where we are preparing for the arrival of students during winter break, several of our meetings to coordinate technology and other concerns were delayed or canceled because the blockades were too expansive outside of town, rendering the people unable to reach the city. It’s really a wonder anything gets done because of the extent that the protests hinder day-to-day activities. Some mothers are forced to walk to their children’s school from work to pick them up when the buses and trufis stop running due to the protests.
Despite all this, my initial impressions of Bolivian culture are immensely positive. All the Bolivia Fellows attended la Solsticia Aymara, a beautiful winter solstice celebration of the indigenous Aymara tribe, on Tuesday morning. We took a bus to Quillacollo, a town just outside Cocha, before sunrise, where we were greeted with music, dancing, and fires burning offerings to the coming sun. We and hundreds of Bolivians watched keenly as the sun rose, and an old-fashioned Bolivian party ensued shortly thereafter. Even government officials in official-looking jackets walked around toting bottles of (what we were told was) traditional Bolivian liquor, and people waved flags and danced well into the morning. After we got home I proceeded to take an excellent four-hour nap.
So far, Bolivia is wonderful. The food is unreal, the people are kind, and not much compares to seeing the clear blue of the mountain sky every morning when we leave our house to walk to work. I’ll check back in soon. Thanks for reading!
Juliet