Welcome to Bolivia and You're Not in Kansas Anymore

Since I've now been in Bolivia for over a week, I guess it's high time I started writing about my experiences here. I can definitely say I'm not in Kansas anymore. While Peru is definitely still a developing country, it at least has had many sustained years of tourism so there's a practised feel to buses and tour agencies, they have a routine down and know what they're doing. Bolivia on the other hand, hasn't had all the practice so it makes traveling and sight-seeing just that little bit more challenging. As in today a small child was in absolute awe that there was a gringo in the restroom and could only respond in one word answers to my enquiries of whether he liked the ice cream he was eating. Additionally my experience crossing the border wasn't the best which of course was my introduction to how things work around here.

While still in Arequipa I was fortunate enough to chat with a girl who had just come back from Bolivia. When she learned I was American, she gave me the heads up that border control is a real stickler for Americans crossing over. As in their bus left some Americans at the border because their papers weren't in order and they couldn't get it straightened out in time. This was not really welcome news, I had assumed they wanted the fee that only Americans have to pay and as long as I had my passport and yellow fever vaccination certificate, everything should be fine. With this heads up, I quickly got on the U.S. embassy's website and cruised through the documents they said I needed. I then used the rest of my time in Arequipa to make copies of documents and get photos taken for the visa. Thinking I had taken care of everything, I boarded the bus to Puno where I was planning on switching to Copacabana on the Bolivian side of Lake Titicaca.

As the bus ride dragged on and on, I found myself growing sicker and sicker. What had started out as a mild sore throat was now a full-blown cold with a throat that felt like it was on fire. By the time we arrived late into Puno, it hurt to ask to buy a bus ticket to Copacabana. And this is when things started to get stressful; I mean more stressful than traveling by yourself while sick in a foreign country because that's already not my favorite activity.  While getting on the bus, the driver looked at my American passport and started rattling off a list of documents I needed to cross the border. Which of course was different than the list of documents I had read online and had spent an afternoon procuring. Not much I could do, so I got on the bus and hoped for the best.

When we finally arrived at the border crossing, the driver stood up at the front of the bus and asked who was American. When only I raised my hand, he directly addressed me and told me that if I wasn't done by the time everyone else had gone through, I was getting left at the border. That's not really something you want to hear. He let me off the bus first to give me a head start I guess and I scurried over to the Peruvian side of customs. I exited no problem and headed up the hill to the Bolivian side. There I was asked for a totally different set of documents from what I had read online and that the bus company told me. Luckily with a bit of explaining I was able to procure everything they asked for. Then the kicker, while everyone else was getting their passports stamped and cruising through, I was asked for $160 American to enter. When I pulled out everything I had, which was exactly $160 since I was prepared for the $135 fee I read about online, I was handed back some bills because they were "too worn." As everyone knows I'm not the biggest freedom screaming, eagle riding, gun toting, most patriotic American out there, but I was actually offended that my money was somehow not good enough for him, but the country had the gall to ask for the fee in American dollars because they know it's the stronger currency. Of course being intelligent and actually wanting to get into Bolivia, I didn't say that. Instead, when I told him that was literally all the American money I had, he accepted some bolivianos I had just changed ensuring I definitely paid more to cross the border than I was supposed to. At that point, I didn't care, I just wanted the stamp in my passport. After taking probably the least attractive visa photo ever due to the sickness and the stress, I was finally in Bolivia. Usually carrying an American passport means you're basically waved across the border, so it was definitely a learning experience and an interesting change of perspective that holding an American passport in this case singled me out for special treatment. It was probably a good empathy building exercise for me, as American border control is notoriously strict, and I've seen people being hassled trying to get into my country before. The point of travel is to broaden the mind you know.

Cows hanging out on the Isla del Sol

In any case I finally arrived in Copacabana and promptly spent the next day and a half resting in my hotel room like I promised my parents I would do if I got sick on my trip. They still like to refer to the time I had just a small illness when I met up with them in Munich during my Europe trip, so being the obedient child, I listened to their advice and really didn't see much of Copacabana, except for a small day trip out to the Isla del Sol, which is where the Incas believed their gods and civilization originated from. It was  very peaceful as there's no cars on the island, it was a bit like being thrown back in time. In any case, after a few days I felt well enough to travel again, and set off to La Paz where despite a rather perilous/hillarious water crossing my adventures continued.

Our bus floating across Lake Titicaca

In La Paz, I seemed to get a little more explanation why I had such a rough time crossing the border. Among other things, the free walking tour brought us to the main Plaza which had been a site of major unrest in 2003 against the then president. Major unrest as in there are still bullet holes in the lampposts and some buildings. I guess the unrest ended with the president fleeing with half the national treasury to, you guessed it, the United States, which is refusing to extradite him. I can see why there might be some special treatment for Americans trying to enter.

Left over bullet hole 

Along with the bullet holes, we saw the outside of the main prison in the city where, get this, people are guilty until proven innocent and there's no such thing as bail. Of course I had many questions about this totally alien concept, like "if they're found innocnrt, are people compensated for being unjustly kept in prison?" and "does anyone protest against this system?" Both were answered with kind of baffled no's, like that wasn't something people would think of. This and the fact that families and children live in the prison because they can't afford to pay a double rent (yes the prisoners have to pay to live in the jail) really for the first time hammered in the fact that I wasn't in the United States or even a comparably developed country anymore. That's ordinarily the kind of thing you read about in the news happening far away, not next to where you're standing. Additionally, when the tour guides wanted to talk about the current president and political system, we went inside a private room so what they had to say wouldn't be overheard and misinterpreted by anyone. Not all they had to say was bad, but one thing that stuck out is that there's a referendum coming up allowing the president to rewrite the constitution and keep running for office for the rest of his life. Seems like we're in Oz, Toto.

Despite the hassle and culture shock, Bolivia is so far a lovely place and I've been having a good time here. Since this has already turned into a wall of text, I'll end here and leave what I've been up to for next time.

Dried llama fetuses at the Witch's Market