the last few days...

It's been a few days... we've been busy.

First, there has to be considerable mention of the Oruro Carnaval. This party literally never stops! We arrived at arround 3pm and had only just found the only hostel with an available room - we in fact had reservations, but they decided to give us the "matrimonial" room - a room with barely enough space for one person and her luggage let alone two girls who had completed the shopping spree of their life in La Paz. The bed was the size of my grandma's breakfast table and the lock on the door was broken... but we were promised it would be fixed that afternoon (it was never fixed during our stay there).

We immediately found a pizza place and had a leisurely lupper (not lunch, but not supper) and when we stepped out the door of Bravo's Pizza I was greeted by the Carnaval of Oruro with a big "SPLAT!" down the front of my shirt...... a waterballoon. Oooohhhh, that was why some people were wearing plastic rain ponchos on a sunny afternoon... Two girls standing outside the door with me did not fare well either. The blonde got the worst of it: foamed in the face and then shot mercilessly with a supersoaker gun. This was only the beginning. The battle had now begun. After I got hit again with a water balloon I chased the culprit down the street and stole another's plastic shopping bag of filled balloons.

I went immediately to purchase my own pack of balloons and my own water gun and wearing the traditional Carnaval mask we went to war. And lost. I was at one point very proud of my exceptional aim when I was attacked by a little girl and her father with the foam cans and every cavity was filled - nose, mouth and ears. I couldn't hear the jeering and laughter but after the sixth balloon hit me in the back of the knee, I buckled and went down - I was sprawled on the pavement like a wounded soldier yelling for the backup that never came - thanks Mel.

It continued. Everything continued and spilled over into the next day even during the parade (that went from 8am until 4am the next day)... When it was still warm enough the water balloons and guns and foam were flung across the street and into the scaffolded bleechers hitting anything and anyone... even the little old ladies sitting in front of us. I have to say, the parade and costumes were beyond incredible. I will let the photos speak for themselves because they are too detailed and ornate to describe in one blog.
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From Oruro we decided to book it downward and take the Uyuni Salt Lake tour. It was a three-day safari-like tour through the "Salar" and then to Laguna after laguna....after laguna. We saw a lot of landscape because the cool part was that because of the terrain the tours are given per a mid-80s 4X4 Jeep-like vehicle and it is really a matter of luck whether the trip really lasts three days since there is usually a 70% chance of a broken axle or broken motor, gasket, filter, pipe or wire - luck turned out good for us and it was only the tire - a mere half-hour later we were on our way again.

Interestingly enough, as cleansing as Machu Picchu was, I think this trip was especially different because I felt my awareness heighten and also my sensitivity to things happening around me. We had two "guides," really just a driver and a cook and the driver would occasionally tell us what we were looking at be it a lagoon, volcano, rocktrees, or flamingos. I was forced - by fate of my tiny tushy - in the front seat with these amazing people. From other Bolivians I understood their attitudes as complete and utter indifference to tourists unless that tourist had a boliviano in their pocket. This trip afforded a look at the people of quite a mysterious culture. I still can pinpoint it, but the way they interacted with each other - and not often with the foreigners - made me very curious. The cook, Señora we called her, always smiled and while everyone else looked like they'd been run over by the Jeep, she managed to remain so beautiful. The smile on our driver was rare, but since I was lucky enough to sit in the front seat with them, I was able to count 7 of them on the whole three-day trip. When he did smile I just about fell in love right there... but not quite. Such cultural distance and so much that I would love to know about and at some points during the trip - usually when Yuni laughed - I wanted so badly to be a part of it.