La Paz- Carnavale, Cemeteries and Cable Cars

LA PAZ IN CARNAVALE

We arrived in La Paz at 4am after a fairly grim middle of the night flight from Bogota. We are both agreed that we prefer bus to air travel. Using buses slightly alleviates my environmental guilt for flying round the world and for Rich it’s less queueing which, as already discussed, he hates.

We had allowed a day of doing absolutely nothing for our arrival day, given the ungodly arrival hour but also in case of any altitude sickness. La Paz lies at 3800m above sea level. Either luck, or our gradual acclimatisation plan, meant that we were both fine so after a few hours sleep out we went.

We had been vaguely aware that we were arriving in the middle of Carnavale, the minute we walked outside that became immediately apparent. There was surprisingly little traffic yet a huge amount of firecrackers, festive tissue strewn everywhere and fearsome children and teenagers loaded with spray foam ammunition. Fortunately not too much water as the use of it for play had been banned in La Paz due to water shortages.

Monday was the day for businesses to make offerings to Pachamama, more of her later. We watched as stall holders and shops set out a rectangle of bunting on the ground, usually tethered at the four corners by beer bottles, then an offering  known as Challas, of a poured drink, flowers or coca leaves was placed in the middle and firecrackers set off. The streets were strewn with colourful debris. My very good friend, Emma, who spent 9 months here in the 90s describes La Paz as chaotic and crazy, cold but sunny and friendly. I think Carnavale probably multiplies the chaotic and crazy somewhat. Later that day we found our way to the Carnavale procession, quite a display.

SAN PEDRO PRISON

Feeling as well as we were, we joined a city walking tour which started outside San Pedro prison. This in itself is a staggering place. It is right in the centre of La Paz and borders a very attractive plaza. The only thing that gives it away as a prison are the very small windows and the unmanned watch towers at the corners. Outside were sitting a row of women and children. These are the families of the inmates who live in the prison with them. Yes, really. There is no social security system in Bolivia so if the wage earner is sent to jail the family may well have no resources and have no choice but to move in too. Sounds crazy right? It gets worse. Prisoners have to pay an entrance fee when they are sent to the prison then they have to buy or rent their accommodation. For the poor this could be a space in a shared cell, for the well off this could actually be an apartment with a kitchen, bathroom and flat screen tv. When they are released they sell this on. If they are particularly well off they may buy two or three and rent them out or set them up as restaurants or shops. The women bring in the supplies for these enterprises. For this reason it is known as a city within a city. It is largely self governing, with the guards staying just at the perimeter. Women and children are protected by the laws of the inmates, anyone harming them will be dealt a hefty punishment.

San Pedro was also renowned as a drug factory. Coca leaves, which are not an illegal substance, were shipped in and converted into high quality cocaine. Orders were telephoned in, because of course the inmates that can afford them have mobiles, the order was then chucked out of a window at a predetermined time, wrapped in a baby's nappy. The government have supposedly stopped this practice now. The other practice they have stopped are prison tours. A previous inmate, Thomas McFadden, a UK drug smuggler had started running these tours for tourists whom he met when he was allowed out for evenings. The first was a tourist who he invited back to his place after a night out. His place just happened to be inside San Pedro prison. Out of this developed a well known tour amongst the back packing community. Not without risk of course, two tourists were killed and one raped before a stop was put to it. Having said that, we were offered a tour by an extremely dodgy looking character while we were sitting in the plaza waiting for our walking tour to begin. There is a book about Thomas McFadden's time in San Pedro that documents these and other incredulities, "Marching Powder" by Rusty Young.

MARKETS AND LLAMA FOETI

Both our initial independent pootling and the later walking tour took us through Mercado Rodriguez, a market that completely takes over the street on a normal day, add into that Carnavale bands and firecrackers, it was quite some sight (and sound) to negotiate.

Flowers and vegetables spilled riotously onto the street and at each stall sat an indomitable cholita, more of them later. Who knew that so many different types of potato existed in the world, let alone in one country?

From Mercado Rodriguez we made our way along an umbrella covered street, Calle Linares, where fortuitously lay our hostel and the Mercado del Brujas or Witches Market. Another feast for the eyes, but this time in the colours and textures of the Alpaca yarn, the beautiful woven fabric and leather goods for sale. Never mind the name, this was heaven for me. The four wedding outfits and one pair of high heeled shoes that I am lugging in my rucksack very nearly got dumped in La Paz. 

Further along Calle Linares we came to the stalls that symbolise the Witches Market. At first glance I thought they were selling toy llamas, but no, they were stuffed dead baby llama and alongside them hung some gruesome looking dried llama foeti. We were assured no baby llama or foeti  were killed, they were all natural deaths.  I am sure that wasn’t the case for the llama pasta I had that night, at least I hope not. The Aymara people, who largely  inhabit the Altiplano in the north of Bolivia, use these as offerings to Pachamama.

They are either buried in the foundations of a new building or added on top of a “mesa" plate of usually sweet offerings and wool which when burnt are meant to bring good luck to a house, business or person. 

Below these hanging curiosities were a multitude of remedies, I am sure every ailment or condition was catered for. I resisted the temptation to purchase any menopausal “cures". Pachamama, Mother Nature is still very important in South America and “witches" and yatiris (shaman) are called upon to tell fortunes, cure ailments, curse enemies and bring good luck. 

POLITICS, ECONOMICS BUT NO PHILOSOPHY

During our week in La Paz we saw so many people, usually Aymara, selling goods, not only in the markets but also just on the pavement. In a country with no social security people have to do anything to earn money. Bolivia ranks 127th out of 193 in a league table of GDP per capira, the lowest in South America apart from Venezuela and lower than a number of African countries.

Our tour ended up in front of the government buildings where we learned some of the political history. Since 1960 alone there have been 37 presidents, and we thought the UK was bad. Since Simon Bolivar, the first president in 1825 there have been 23 coups along with a number of bloody and violent demonstrations and quelling of these demonstrations, the bullet holes of which are apparent in the Plaza Murillo. It is little wonder the country seems to struggle so much with that history, despite it’s mineral wealth – salt, silver, ton, zinc, lead and the currently highly demanded lithium. However it of course, has no port and that is the subject of a long standing battle with Chile. This was all evidenced for us in the amount of poverty and hardship we saw and the emotion of the tour guide at the end of our walking tour.

CEMETERY AND SKULLS 

Later in our stay we took an extended walking tour with the same company, Red Cap. This time we hopped onto a collectivo to the cemetery, a sort of hop on hop off minibus that usually crams far too many people in and drives in a fairly lunatic fashion. We spent a few days with an Italian couple later on, who that same week were in a collectivo that lost control on a mountain road and tipped right over. The city ones don’t have the opportunity to build up any speed but until now we haven’t used them as with our limited Spanish and no actual bus stops there is no way of knowing where and when to get off them.

It seemed a strange place to visit, a cemetery. But when we got there we understood why. It is very different to a European cemetery. Bodies are not buried but put into holes in the wall horizontally, a bit like a reverse ATM I guess. In front of the door is a shrine that the family decorate in a quite delightful manner with nodding sunflowers, mini bottles of alcohol and coke, flowers, models of anything that person enjoyed and photos. It made us reflect on how dour our cemeteries are. We decided that if we were to decorate our graves in this manner Richard’s would be covered in Everton memorabilia, but I am still giving him a plaque that says “I’m just putting him here for now" (his catch phrase). He says he would cover mine in all that bloody  crochet scattered around our house with the plaque saying “I told you I was ill"!

The bodies are only allowed to stay for a maximum of 15 years, then the family have to take them away and have them cremated. We saw what looked like parking tickets pasted on the front of some. These were notices to say they had run out of time or not paid the rent. The Aymaran families often keep the skulls which are then decorated and used once a year in their homes at Dia de La Natas, the Day of the Skulls every November 8th. 

UP A HEIGHT AND A SHAMAN 

From the cemetery we took Mi Teleferico to get the best views of La Paz from above and to visit El Alto. Like Medellin the cable car system has been put in place to try and connect the poorer places on the valley sides and El Alto with La Paz for better social mobility. La Paz has experienced the same as Medellin in that many people migrate from the countryside, not to escape drug cartels in this case, but in the hope of better prospects. In reality they became trapped in slums that sprawl out from La Paz and the only way to sprawl is up. El Alto the 38 year old city built at the top is a largely Aymaran population and is twice the size of La Paz. It has a very different feel with many half finished buildings, very rough roads, litter everywhere (although the litter problem is Bolivia in general in our limited  experience) and where the dogs literally run in packs.

We did not venture far from the Teleferico stop, just to a row of what looked like sheds. Outside were several small fires, at one of which was sat a woman with a man wafting something over her head. These were a row of Yatiris where people come to have their fortunes told or to ask questions. If the answer or fortune they get is not good they can then pay more for this ceremony that we came across. The cynic in me wonders about the incentive of the Yatiri to give a good fortune or answer.

We were giving the option to have our fortunes told with coca leaves, or ask a question. I have never liked this idea, I'd rather not know, but I was intrigued by the process. I came up with a question to which the answer, I knew, would not cause me undue anxiety, whatever it was. I told the Yatiri I only wanted to know the answer, nothing else. He obliged with some strange mumbling and chanting and throwing around of coca leaves and sprinkling of water out of what looked like an old fizzy pop bottle, before giving me the answer. Nope, I’m not telling. Not until I know if he was right or just making it all up.

WOMEN

Now can we just talk about Bolivian women for a moment, in particular Aymaran or Quechuan women, or cholitas. I so wish I had better Spanish and had been able to talk properly to them, but what an indomitable force they seem to be. Dressed in wide skirts with many under layers which make their hips and bum look enormous.....good child bearing hips, and show their calves, because men value strong women. They wear two long plaits down their back, which are sometimes extended and bowler hats that perch on top. This is absolutely not a costume to please the tourists. It is every day wear. They are mostly seen to be carrying huge loads on their backs, wrapped in brightly coloured cloth. Often a child, not just a baby, was in these packs or some other great weight. I saw very few men carrying similar weights, but happily walking alongside their partner. This is a really good BBC article that talks about the rise of the cholitas and their changing place in society.

TIWIKANU

We took a couple of day trips out of La Paz. One was to Tiwikanu, a pre Incan civilisation that predominated in this area. The drive took us through El Alto and out into the Altiplano, the plateau between the high Andean mountains. It was a fascinating place which left me with more questions than answers. How did they cut those precise lines and patterns in hard volcanic rock which we can now only cut with a laser? The symbolism of the number 7, what’s that about?

The Spanish had largely destroyed it as idolatry. As an aside it was fascinating to us how happily Catholicism and Pachamama now seem to sit alongside one another. Only 10% of Tiwikanu has been uncovered. Just before the pandemic drones identified many more temples and pyramids underground, but it would take 50 years and a huge amount of money to excavate. It seems a shame for Bolivia as this could surely be a site to equal Macchu Pichu if fully excavated.

A TREK IN THE ANDES

Our other day was a trek higher up into the Andean mountains. We hired a mountain guide which meant we could tailor it to our ability, not knowing how the altitude would effect us. Up until now we were fine on the flat but the minute we had to climb a steep street, of which there are a LOT in La Paz, or a couple of flights of stairs we were very out of breath. The plan was to start at 4500m and walk up to Lake Chiarchota. 

We were very pleased to see plentiful llama and alpaca in the wild, as up until this point we had eaten more than we had seen. We managed the walk up fairly easily so we continued up in the direction of Pico Austria. We had no intention of making it to the summit of 5600m, not least because the weather wasn’t great that day, but also because at the speed we were able to go we would not have managed it in daylight. 

We did however, after a steep climb, make it up to a ridge at 4850m from which we got some great views of the glaciers and surrounding peaks. Our guide explained how massively these glaciers and the snow has receded, particularly in the last 20 years. What were completely white mountains in the 1960s are now largely black. The reservoir levels for La Paz should be full now at the end of the rainy season, yet they are only 60% full. This saved us from being soaked at Carnavale of course, but what is going to happen when these areas become uninhabitable. And we think we have a migration problem at the moment?!

It was a shame about the low cloud, the blue sky pictures we had seen were incredible, although the moodiness and ever changing view of the cloud around the mountains had a different appeal. What the guide hadn’t told us in advance, thankfully, was that the route down took us along a llama track traversing a steep scree slope.....fairly anxiety provoking but we did it. Richard has given me permission to share this photo....what you can't see are the colour his trousers may have changed to! In his defence, this photo doesn't do justice to the steepness of the scree.

FINAL THOUGHTS

So La Paz, in summary, an assault on the senses, in a stimulating if slightly exhausting way. So much experienced, learned and provoked. We were very glad we spent a good amount of time there but we also were ready to move on. We did have a 4 night break in the middle of the 9 days we were there up at Lake Titicaca but that has to be a separate blog as this one is already far too long.

This final photo has far too much going on in it......but, for us, that nicely sums up La Paz