"There is a mountain range, there in Bolivia, the Altiplano, where the Revolution could spread to the rest of South America."

Sunday, December 13, 2009

Whats El Alto?? - Day 1

12/02/09

My first few hours in La Paz are strange. I immediately start feeling the altitude as soon as I step off the collectivo. I instinctively start walking toward the absolute center, Plaza Murillo, which is always a good reference point regradless of whether or not it yields an immediate return. I soon realize that there are no hostels in the area so I start to ask questions. The first lady I ask sends me exactly where I need to be, and after a papaya smoothie on the street I find a great hostel without problems.

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So my first few hours are spent on taking care of the necessities. I was feeling sluggish and groggy, the fatigue and the altitude got to me, and although I finished everything that needed to be done, by 3:30 I could barely stand or keep my eyes open.

Trials only a few hours into my first day, at this point I was light-headed, zoned-out, exhausted, significant headache, incapable of anything beyond basic thought, and disappointed that I had to go to bed mid afternoon on my first day.

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The rest did me wonders, wanting to sleep an hour and a half I ended up sleeping three, and by the time I woke up I was definitely ready to go. I headed next door to the vegetarian place and they were finishing up, so I was short on options and they were short on patience. The way this place works is cafeteria style, you pay at the front and they give you tickets, fichas en espanol, and then you bring your tickets to the back seating area and they feed you there. Normally someone takes your tickets and brings the meal to your table, but since their working day was winding down, you had to go to the closed kitchcen window and knock, hand over your tickets to the person on the other side, and they hand you your food through the window. No one told me this, so I sat at my table for a while not knowing what to do, feeling like an alien, until finally somone helped me. The meal I was served was rice with a mixed concoction which included egg (I dont eat eggs anymore either), which is technically vegetarian, but I wasn't going to leave the mealk at this point, I had to eat something. The mix also had something that looked like soymeal, but it seemed like meat, and I seemed intent on convincing myself that it was. I wasn't comfortable with what I was eating, and I felt helpless.

Ok, I know what you're thinking, I'm making La Paz sound so far like its a horrible place, but its actually an incredible and beautiful city, I just had, as Raul later wrote in one of his emails, a typical first day. But it does get a lot better before day's end.

At this point, I start walking around, not really knowing where I'm going, and I find theres a hunger strike happening in the Plaza San Francisco. I start talking to an indigenous lady handing out flyers and she explains to me that the hunger strike is to protest a municipal policy, and specifically the mayor Juan del Granado who has put in place a law which is word to the christmas street vendors. Essentially what they are trying to do is to prevent the street vendors of the Feria de Navidad from setting up shop in their traditional stomping grounds in the Plaza San Francisco. These vendors take their positions inside the plaza only during the month of December, and the mayor is saying they are an eyesore, and is trying to move them to a new undesirable location which will not be good for business. Whats more, the vendors of the feria have issue with the fact that the amount they are taxed with licensing will remain the same despite the almost certain loss of revenue. The mayor is also claiming he wants to remove vendors from the streets alltogether, a ridiculous and absurd proposal which would crush La Paz's informal economy and create massive unemployment. This debate may come to the fore in the new year, and if the municipality tries to take action it will certainly provoke another resistance campaign from the vendors.

From the plaza I moved on to the Mariscal Santa Cruz where a small rally was taking place for the same campaign. Spoke briefly to a companero who gave me some good information, snapped some pictures of the giant majestic tricolour draping the street, and then I crossed over to fire off a quick email to Raul, and to chat with my beautiful incredible girl. I also found out about the closing event of the MAS electoral campaign to take place in El Alto the following day.

When I got back to the hostel I met Franz, the night employee, who not surprisingly is a fervent MAS supporter, and asked him for details on the event. We talked politics for an hour, and I made my first Bolivian friend and connection.

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After that I finally felt a much needed sense of purpose, and belonging. Unity and togetherness are extremely important in molding and complementing the mentality of the young activist-revolutionary. The psychology of the young activist is a theme that I will explore more in depth in the future.

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