The Coca Tea Myth and other legends from Bolivia

We'd read a bit about Coca Tea before venturing into Bolivia, mainly that Bolivians and foreigners alike drink or chew it to

help with the altitude and a variety of ailments. It would be, I suppose the Tylenol (or insert your catch all drug) for the Andean people.

Well, I'm here to tell you that it is not all it's cracked up to be. After getting wildly ill on a 4-day jeep tour through the Southwest of Bolivia, I was offered Coca in every form: tea, chewable, pill, you name it, and each time, my body violently rejected it. So much for centuries of knowledge. It did, however, become humorous after a bit. The Bolivians couldn't comprehend that the tea might not actually be making me feel better, so they'd switch teas and give me some concoction of coca tea mixed with another herb. Nothing helped.

All that said, and advice here stated: DO NOT GO ON A 4-DAY JEEP TOUR (I think I came to the same conclusion after our Safari in Tanzania. No matter how great what you see is, you still are spending your entire day bumping around in a jeep -- and that sucks), we still had a amazing time seeing the Salares.

We woke up for the sunrise, which was incredible.







Then we proceeded to take funny pictures:
See -- it looks like Nick is eating the car








And in this one, I'm holding the car up,








And here I'm jumping out of a can,








And finally (this was Nick's idea), he's dancing on my fingertip!

Here's to feeling better and being coca tea free . . .

Chaco sin Fronteras!

We decided that it was only fitting to exit Paraguay through the vast and uninhabited area to north called the Chaco. After an overnight bus ride and two middle-of-the-night stops at immigration, we made it to our first Bolivian destination, Villamontes.

Now, Villamontes isn't just any old stopover town between Bolivia and Paraguay, it's the self-proclaimed heart and soul of the Gran Chaco. (The Chaco is a desertish landscape that spans the northern parts of Argentina and Paraguay and the South of Bolivia.) And, as such, just a 20-minute ride outside of Villamontes made the perfect setting for "Chaco sin Fronteras," or "Chaco without Borders" -- a weekend festival bringing together the best Chaco cowboys from Paraguay, Argentina, and Bolivia.

We were only able to see it for a few hours in the afternoon before we caught our next overnight bus, but that didn't stop us from fully participating in the cowboy fun ;-)

The winning horse!

Iguazu Falls

I've decided that the guttural sounding language of guarani is about as close to what we would all speak had the tower of babble not fallen. There is something simplistic about the language. Iguazu - the second largest waterfalls in the world (to the Victorian Falls) comes from the two guarani words "i" meaning water and "uazu" meaning big, tie the two together with a grunt and you've got Iguazu.

The falls are certainly big, massive in fact, but they are also breathtakingly beautiful. I've never seen so many rainbows in one place.

We spent an entire day walking around the Argentinian side, and another whole day at the Brazilian side.

And then we started getting fancy with the camera features . . .

Buenos Aires

When I think of Buenos Aires, I think of 3 things:

Tango









Steak









& Wine!









(ok, there's a whiskey and coke in there too . . . but wine gets a bit old after a while!)

Mix that with my favorite people in the whole world, and you get the best little vacation from a vacation ever!Honestly, I fell in love with Buenos Aires. We saw great architecture, some decent museums, a super spectacular tango show, and ate the best food I've had since coming to South America. The saddest part was that we crammed the whole thing into a short week!

Never fear, I'm already planning my return. If the lawyer thing doesn't work out --- I'm thinking professional dogwalker in BA . . .

My work in Paraguay

I finished up my work as a volunteer at Centro Estudios Judiciales last week. Since I was there first "intern", they decided to create a whole little section of their webpage dedicated to what I did. Click here to see it. It's all in Spanish, but just trust that it's super flattering ;-)

Sundays in Paraguay

. . . tranquilo, no más.

Los Colectivos

For the key to unlocking the intricacies of Paraguayan culture, look no further than los colectivos. Just the fact that they call them "colectivos" (collectives), rather than "autobús" or "ómnibus" or "dalla dalla" or the million other words in the world for public transportation, describes the sense of sharing that pervades everything in this germ-swapping nation (super common for everyone to share a cup -- see Nick's post on tereré). So, in the sharing spirit: everything I learned about Paraguay, I learned on a bus . . .


No Bus Stops:
That's right, there are no bus stops in Paraguay. You might be wondering, how exactly do you catch a bus if there aren't any bus stops? And the answer would be, well, quite simple really, you just wave it down like it's your personal taxi. Similarly, when you reach your destination, simply ring the bell and like a Pavlovian dog, the bus driver will slam on the breaks. Yes, this system is incredibly inefficient and often means that a bus stops to pick up one passenger, only to stop ten meters down the road for another. However, it is also rather convenient . . . when you're the one getting door-to-door service ;-)

But aside from that brief feeling of celebrity, when the bus stops directly in front of my feet in the morning, I spend the other 45+ minutes of my ride reflecting on how we're all getting to our destinations 10 minutes later because the government never got it together enough to create a system of bus stops (let along good traffic lights, recycling, and other public services). And the tragedy of the commons continues . . .

Lesson 1: Inefficiency is practically law in Paraguay.

2,100 Gs (40 cents - más o menos):
The cost of a ride is not fixed. It's not tied to the distance or the popularity of the route, nor is the fare that convenient for the driver who has to simultaneously drive the bus and count out 9 separate 100 G coins in change when you hand him 3,000 Gs or a 5,000 G bill. (also as a side note, there are several different guarani currencies in circulation right now, making the size and shape of coins totally unhelpful in distinguishing their denomination). At first, I thought the fare was 2,000 Gs and I got away with paying the discounted rate well into our first month here. Nick, on the other hand, has been short-changed more than just a few times. It seems the fare has more to do with the mood of the driver, than anything else. How's that for a lottery system?

Lesson 2: Life's inexpensive in Paraguay, but not always fair.

Life Insurance (Seguro de Vida):
In exchange for your 2,100 Gs, the bus driver rips off a little ticket for you. On the back is printed: "No devuelva el boleto este es su seguro de vida." Hmmmmm. Well, since when I got here my Spanish wasn't all that strong, I asked my trusty amigo, GoogleTranslate, the meaning, and confirming my suspicion, GT replied "Do not return the ticket this is your life insurance."
Only in Paraguay can you buy life insurance for 40 cents on a bus! But seriously, this one has me stumped completely. Is there some amount of money attached to my ability to hold onto this ticket through a deadly bus crash? Should I write my beneficiary on the back? I just don't understand . . .

Lesson 3: Not everything makes sense in Paraguay.

The 16.2:
If you want a guide to the bus system in Asunción, you're out of luck. There isn't one. More, the naming/numbering system can make your head spin. Sometimes buses with names like "Aregua" go to the town of Aregua outside of the city, but sometimes they don't and you really don't know which ones are which unless you ask. The numbered buses are equally unusual. There's a 1, 3a, 3b, 7, 16.2, 31, 52, and 85 (among others). There is not however, a 16.1. I take the 16.2 from where I volunteer downtown a long ride to the other side of town for my Spanish classes, and for everyone that I've asked -- the 16.1 doesn't exist.

Lesson 4: Repeat Lesson 3: Not everything makes sense in Paraguay.

Los Mercantes (the people who sell stuff on the bus):
Depending on the day, time, and how crowded the bus is, a whole range of people get on to sell things. Sometimes they sell fruit, or cooking oil, or gum or chipa (paraguayan snack), but sometimes they sell shoelaces, or kitchen knives, or teach-yourself English books, or all three put together in a nice little tote for only 10,000 Gs! People also come onto the bus, sing/play a song or two and try to sell music lessons or they pray for your soul and then ask for money. I've even seen a stand-up comedy routine! The strangest thing about this system, though, is that it works. Rarely does a mercante not make at least one sale or does a musician, beggar, comedian, or missionary walk away empty handed.

Lesson 5: Note to the unemployed, there' s a job for you in Paraguay.

I don't want this post to come across as negative, because it's not. I've had some of my favorite cultural experiences on buses in this country. There's also a great culture of giving up seats for the elderly, women with children, or pregnant women (of which there are tons!) and, like Nick, I'll miss the mercantes a ton when we have to say goodbye. It's just that, like everything in Paraguay, the great culture and amazing people get overshadowed by the incredible inefficiency and absurdity of the nation in which they live. They, however, take it in stride. Tranquilo no más . . . so is life in Paraguay . . .