Like you all have read, the life of a miner is anything but glamorous, but I can attest to the fact that they all know how to party. I guess when going to work everyday involves the distinct risk of death, when you get those precious one, two or three days for a town wide fiesta you make the absolute them.
Mike, Annabel, Gemma, and I decided that it would be a good idea to spend our last day in Potosi checking out this exact fiesta. The miners had two days when they did not have to work in the mines, Saturday and Sunday. Normally they hold a job that is 7 days a week. But not this weekend, the whole town stopped and partied just for them. Every mining corporation, of which there are 30 or so from what Ive been told, put together a band that has its own uniform, and the miners all dress up in wild and bright colors and dance down the streets in groups with bands following them. The miners, and bands, take a good deal of pride in these performances, and it seemed to me tried their hardest to be as drunk as possible when they set off from their starting point in the mine. Each group walked, marched, danced, or stumbled, depending how you looked at it from the mines all the way to the city center, and then it turned into a single raging mass of people drinking for the next day and a half. To go off topic or a moment, The native or traditional Bolivian dress for both men and women to quite bright. It is a combination of very bright blues, pinks, yellows, reds, green, etc... seeing these drunken male miners and their wives, in different groups, dancing down the street in neon pink and yellow shirts and equally ornate and colorful headdresses is certainly a sight. Back to the point, from what i was told, by a whole multitude of drunk Bolivians was that the point of this festival was to honor the miners and the Bolivian traditions. This festival has apparently changed very little over the past 100 years or so from what I was told. The second objective of the festival was to get blind drunk. Like i said, I do like the Bolivians.
I have to go at the moment, but when I write again ill add on the more less culturally valuable but certainly more amusing aspects of the festival: this involved water balloons, buckets of water, super soakers, projectile shaving cream, coca leaves, 96% alcohol, and at times the urge to kill someone when blindsided by a water balloon. Later it will come. By the way, I'm in La Paz right now and it is absolutely crazy.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Sunday, January 20, 2008
As close to Hell as I ever want to be before death.
I am sitting in Sucre, Bolivia right now. One of the two capitals of Bolivia. But depending on who you ask it may or may not be the one and only capital. Its weird. I would like to say one thing about Bolivia as a whole. The Bolivians, as a whole, are some of the nicest people I have ever had the pleasure of meeting in my life. The country itself is also one of the most beautiful I have ever seen in my life. If not for the fact there is only one paved road in the entire country and the rest of the roads are plagued with frequent floods turning said roads into raging rivers and the very common landslide, I`d say this country was perfect, if not poor as hell.
Anyway right now I would like to take some time and explain about my trip toward hell. Potosi, Bolivia my last stop is the highest city in the world, with the city center topping out at around 4,060meters high. Needless to say, I was essentially gasping for breath my entire time there. Potosi is also home to a reasonably large collection of silver, zinc, gold, copper, and other mineral mines. I was lucky enough, lucky may not be the correct word, to be able to go on a tour of one of the mines. Let me tell you miner is never a profession that I wish to have. The entrance to the mines is about at 4,200 meters. I went with a tour group and our group leader was a former miner.Before going to the mines he was very eager to tell us about all the problems the mines have especially the dangers involved in working in them and the accidents that have occurred within them. Just a little example, about 30-35 miners die every year actually working within the mine, and countless others die every year from various illnesses they contract working in absolutely heart wrenching conditions. By the way, geological experts came to the Potosi mines some time ago, and they estimated that the mines were suppose to collapse in 2004. Comforting. But hey, this is a country filled with adventures. We were picked up at 8am, and then driven to the "office" of the tour company. Again, like many words I use to describe Bolivia, I use the term very loosely. This was more an alley with clothes hanging in it then anything else. We Were given a pair of pants, very thin jacket, some rubber boots, and a hard hat with a miners light. From there we were driven to the miners market which is normally where the miners buy the materials they need to work.
We were at the market to buy "gifts" for the miners that we would meet within the mine. The gifts were great. We bought the miners booze (96%), cigarettes soaked is Anis, coca leaves, soda, and my personal favorite dynamite. You read that correctly, we were allowed to buy dynamite. It is totally legal and anyone is allowed to purchase it. As I was very nervous to enter the mines, I ended up stuffing a huge wad of coca leaves in my cheek to calm the nerves. When chewed, and left to sit in your mouth (similar to dip) coca leaves give one energy, curbs hunger, makes the person less susceptible to the temperature, and they also cure altitude sickness. So we arrive at the mine, and before we go in we take a tour of the mineral processing plants and some of the other areas outside the mine. The miners we saw coming in and out of the mine looked absolutely haggard; soaked in sweat, breathing heavily, and seemingly unhappy to be alive. I`d also like to explain again that the average Bolivian is about 5`4 or shorter. This is an ideal height to be a miner. Our group of Gringos probably averaged about my height, not ideal for inside a mine. We donned our head gear, and with me chewing my coca leaves furiously trying to take my mind off the fact that we were on a journey to hell, we entered the mine. The first level wasn`t that bad. We had to bend down a little bit, but the temperature was fair and there was the occasional electric light. There were tubes running down the length of every wall in the mine carrying pressurized air for the jack hammers. Both the tubes and the jack hammers were excruciating loud when you were in a confined space, like a mine shaft. The first stop we made was to a room dedicated to Tio. Tio is the name of the devil that the miners worship to keep themselves safe. He is the one who controls their fates when they are within the mine. Talking to a miner the day after I was in the mine, he told me I was lucky to make it out alive because Tio likes white meat. There is a statue of their devil in this little room. His feet are buried under piles of coca leave, there are two cigarettes in his mouth, and he has a beer and the 96% alcohol bottle in his hands. These are all offerings that the miners give to the controller of their lives in exchange for their safety. These offerings don`t always help them however. Many still die, and at this point, Tio has probably killed more people than Stalin.
After giving an offering to Tio and stuffing another generous wad of coca leaves in my mouth, which was now packed, but still no match for the baseball size wad every miner I saw had in his cheek we headed further into the mine. After about a thousand feet of walking through increasingly shrinking passage ways we come to a ladder. "down" says our guide. "fuck off" I think. WE go down. It is now, a significant bit hotter, smaller, and entirely dark when the head lamps are turned off there is no light or fresh air in this place, and the air is think with dust, dirt, and rock particles. We continued along at this second level and then came to a steep hill of sorts. It was slippery because it was caked with wet dirt, how the dirt got wet I don't know, nor want to. We clamber down this with much less grace than our former miner guides, and come to the third level. It is even hotter. WE then army crawl through a very small space. It was a tunnel about 2 feet tall and not wide enough for more than one person. From there we walk through a tunnel that you can actually stand in and ome across a group of miners leaving for the day. They were all caked in mud and sweat and looked like walking death. (The average day for a miner is about 9-12 hours. Their average pay 80 bolivianos, or a little more than 11 dollars.) WE then come to another ladder leading to the fourth level which was about 150 feet below the surface of the earth. Lacking many things I have taken or granted in my life like sunlight, fresh air, and a reasonably good chance of survival. If the mine collapsed on us we were all dead. There was no illusion here. So, I stuffed my mouth with even more coca leaves. The fourth level was about 105 degrees, the surface was about 55 degrees. WE come across two miners actually working at this point. They are crammed into a very small space, both sweating profusely, one shirtless, as they try to drive a medal spike into the very solid rock deep enough to be able to use some dynamite to clear more space and hopefully find some minerals. The spike was driving into the rock using only a hand held hammer. They needed a hole that was about 20 centimeters deep, to reach that depth it would take about 7 hours. There was no using a jack hammer cause the vibrations could cause their area to collapse. At least with dynamite, they could give themselves times to escape a possible collapse. We sat in the sweltering darkness with our guide telling us about his experience in the mine for about 30 minutes. We were all sweating profusely, beginning to get claustrophobic, and hearing explosions above was making us increasingly more nervous of the imminent collapse of the mine. "time to go" he said "back up the same way we came down." More coca leaves are shoved into my mouth. We leave the two miners with a gift of cigarettes, soda, some coca leaves, and a stick of dynamite. We had four left.
Back up we go, with every higher level an increasing feeling of our emergence into the light getting stronger. Up the mud caked hill, the two rickety ladders, ignoring the lack of oxygen and the pain in strained legs. We had to get out. We made it back to the entrance, and to the chagrin of our guides we all sprinted into the sunlight and inhaled as deeply as we could at our present altitude. Two hour and 15 minutes we spent in that mine. It felt like a lifetime. How could people do that or entire days? Who would want to? I guess if you have no choice.... We stand outside the entrance of the mine basking in the sunlight, and then our guides ask us possibly the best question I have ever heard "so, do we want to set off the dynamite?" YES. We each get a chance to mix all the ingredients into a plastic bag, the dynamite was not formed in a stick like we have all seen in the movies. The fuse us out in and lit. 2 minutes before it goes off. We all get a chance to hold it and get our picture taken with it. The moment the photo is snapped we throw the dynamite like a hot potato to the next person. We all realize this shit might kill us if we hold it to long. After a minute and change and countless photos. Our guides grab the bombs and book it down a hill where they hastily dig holes with their feet drop the dynamite and run. One, two, three, four....26, 27. Its not going to go off we think. Just then BOOM!!!! Your whole body shakes with the blast. The noise is deafening, rocks and debris fly everywhere. BOOM, BOOM, BOOM!!!! the other three go off. WE all stand their dazed for a moment. That was awesome. "we leave now" says the guide. Sure, we are all still alive, and we got to play with live dynamite. Awesome. I`d like to make it very clear though that no one should ever have to work in the conditions that these miners suffered. The average life expectancy of a miner was about 10 years after they began working. They can start as early as 14. It is terrifying, and I am glad I am lucky enough to never have to be in that situation. Tio is not a god to be trifled with and all the miners know that. sooner or later, Tio will come for them, and they all hope that they wont have to work in the mine for that long.
Anyway right now I would like to take some time and explain about my trip toward hell. Potosi, Bolivia my last stop is the highest city in the world, with the city center topping out at around 4,060meters high. Needless to say, I was essentially gasping for breath my entire time there. Potosi is also home to a reasonably large collection of silver, zinc, gold, copper, and other mineral mines. I was lucky enough, lucky may not be the correct word, to be able to go on a tour of one of the mines. Let me tell you miner is never a profession that I wish to have. The entrance to the mines is about at 4,200 meters. I went with a tour group and our group leader was a former miner.Before going to the mines he was very eager to tell us about all the problems the mines have especially the dangers involved in working in them and the accidents that have occurred within them. Just a little example, about 30-35 miners die every year actually working within the mine, and countless others die every year from various illnesses they contract working in absolutely heart wrenching conditions. By the way, geological experts came to the Potosi mines some time ago, and they estimated that the mines were suppose to collapse in 2004. Comforting. But hey, this is a country filled with adventures. We were picked up at 8am, and then driven to the "office" of the tour company. Again, like many words I use to describe Bolivia, I use the term very loosely. This was more an alley with clothes hanging in it then anything else. We Were given a pair of pants, very thin jacket, some rubber boots, and a hard hat with a miners light. From there we were driven to the miners market which is normally where the miners buy the materials they need to work.
We were at the market to buy "gifts" for the miners that we would meet within the mine. The gifts were great. We bought the miners booze (96%), cigarettes soaked is Anis, coca leaves, soda, and my personal favorite dynamite. You read that correctly, we were allowed to buy dynamite. It is totally legal and anyone is allowed to purchase it. As I was very nervous to enter the mines, I ended up stuffing a huge wad of coca leaves in my cheek to calm the nerves. When chewed, and left to sit in your mouth (similar to dip) coca leaves give one energy, curbs hunger, makes the person less susceptible to the temperature, and they also cure altitude sickness. So we arrive at the mine, and before we go in we take a tour of the mineral processing plants and some of the other areas outside the mine. The miners we saw coming in and out of the mine looked absolutely haggard; soaked in sweat, breathing heavily, and seemingly unhappy to be alive. I`d also like to explain again that the average Bolivian is about 5`4 or shorter. This is an ideal height to be a miner. Our group of Gringos probably averaged about my height, not ideal for inside a mine. We donned our head gear, and with me chewing my coca leaves furiously trying to take my mind off the fact that we were on a journey to hell, we entered the mine. The first level wasn`t that bad. We had to bend down a little bit, but the temperature was fair and there was the occasional electric light. There were tubes running down the length of every wall in the mine carrying pressurized air for the jack hammers. Both the tubes and the jack hammers were excruciating loud when you were in a confined space, like a mine shaft. The first stop we made was to a room dedicated to Tio. Tio is the name of the devil that the miners worship to keep themselves safe. He is the one who controls their fates when they are within the mine. Talking to a miner the day after I was in the mine, he told me I was lucky to make it out alive because Tio likes white meat. There is a statue of their devil in this little room. His feet are buried under piles of coca leave, there are two cigarettes in his mouth, and he has a beer and the 96% alcohol bottle in his hands. These are all offerings that the miners give to the controller of their lives in exchange for their safety. These offerings don`t always help them however. Many still die, and at this point, Tio has probably killed more people than Stalin.
After giving an offering to Tio and stuffing another generous wad of coca leaves in my mouth, which was now packed, but still no match for the baseball size wad every miner I saw had in his cheek we headed further into the mine. After about a thousand feet of walking through increasingly shrinking passage ways we come to a ladder. "down" says our guide. "fuck off" I think. WE go down. It is now, a significant bit hotter, smaller, and entirely dark when the head lamps are turned off there is no light or fresh air in this place, and the air is think with dust, dirt, and rock particles. We continued along at this second level and then came to a steep hill of sorts. It was slippery because it was caked with wet dirt, how the dirt got wet I don't know, nor want to. We clamber down this with much less grace than our former miner guides, and come to the third level. It is even hotter. WE then army crawl through a very small space. It was a tunnel about 2 feet tall and not wide enough for more than one person. From there we walk through a tunnel that you can actually stand in and ome across a group of miners leaving for the day. They were all caked in mud and sweat and looked like walking death. (The average day for a miner is about 9-12 hours. Their average pay 80 bolivianos, or a little more than 11 dollars.) WE then come to another ladder leading to the fourth level which was about 150 feet below the surface of the earth. Lacking many things I have taken or granted in my life like sunlight, fresh air, and a reasonably good chance of survival. If the mine collapsed on us we were all dead. There was no illusion here. So, I stuffed my mouth with even more coca leaves. The fourth level was about 105 degrees, the surface was about 55 degrees. WE come across two miners actually working at this point. They are crammed into a very small space, both sweating profusely, one shirtless, as they try to drive a medal spike into the very solid rock deep enough to be able to use some dynamite to clear more space and hopefully find some minerals. The spike was driving into the rock using only a hand held hammer. They needed a hole that was about 20 centimeters deep, to reach that depth it would take about 7 hours. There was no using a jack hammer cause the vibrations could cause their area to collapse. At least with dynamite, they could give themselves times to escape a possible collapse. We sat in the sweltering darkness with our guide telling us about his experience in the mine for about 30 minutes. We were all sweating profusely, beginning to get claustrophobic, and hearing explosions above was making us increasingly more nervous of the imminent collapse of the mine. "time to go" he said "back up the same way we came down." More coca leaves are shoved into my mouth. We leave the two miners with a gift of cigarettes, soda, some coca leaves, and a stick of dynamite. We had four left.
Back up we go, with every higher level an increasing feeling of our emergence into the light getting stronger. Up the mud caked hill, the two rickety ladders, ignoring the lack of oxygen and the pain in strained legs. We had to get out. We made it back to the entrance, and to the chagrin of our guides we all sprinted into the sunlight and inhaled as deeply as we could at our present altitude. Two hour and 15 minutes we spent in that mine. It felt like a lifetime. How could people do that or entire days? Who would want to? I guess if you have no choice.... We stand outside the entrance of the mine basking in the sunlight, and then our guides ask us possibly the best question I have ever heard "so, do we want to set off the dynamite?" YES. We each get a chance to mix all the ingredients into a plastic bag, the dynamite was not formed in a stick like we have all seen in the movies. The fuse us out in and lit. 2 minutes before it goes off. We all get a chance to hold it and get our picture taken with it. The moment the photo is snapped we throw the dynamite like a hot potato to the next person. We all realize this shit might kill us if we hold it to long. After a minute and change and countless photos. Our guides grab the bombs and book it down a hill where they hastily dig holes with their feet drop the dynamite and run. One, two, three, four....26, 27. Its not going to go off we think. Just then BOOM!!!! Your whole body shakes with the blast. The noise is deafening, rocks and debris fly everywhere. BOOM, BOOM, BOOM!!!! the other three go off. WE all stand their dazed for a moment. That was awesome. "we leave now" says the guide. Sure, we are all still alive, and we got to play with live dynamite. Awesome. I`d like to make it very clear though that no one should ever have to work in the conditions that these miners suffered. The average life expectancy of a miner was about 10 years after they began working. They can start as early as 14. It is terrifying, and I am glad I am lucky enough to never have to be in that situation. Tio is not a god to be trifled with and all the miners know that. sooner or later, Tio will come for them, and they all hope that they wont have to work in the mine for that long.
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Quick note
The fact that the car still ran at the end of those four days is a testament to the fact that it would probably take and act of god to kill it. Submerged, stalled out, gears grinding, just beat to hell in general, it still worked. We all know Keith Richards. That man might actually live to 1,000 even with the abuse he has put his body and mind through through. So, I salute you Keith Richards the car because both we and you are still alive. Good god damn work.
Keith Richards can´t be killed by conventional methods. Surviving a Bolivian Salt Flat tour.
Well I made it into Bolivia. We even made it to Tupiza. The idea, which we did end up going through with was to hop on a 4 day three night Salt flat tour, from Tupiza to Uyuni. Mind you, this tour is usually done in the dry season. It is not the dry season now, and we had been warned that it can be significantly more dangerous in the wet season. Dangerous? No, can´t be that bad I thought. Boy was I ever wrong. Those four days, technically three, but ill tell you about that later were possibly the scariest days I have ever experienced in my life. Cliffs, a 1989 Toyota Land Cruiser we dubbed Keith, muddy roads, and rivers combine to make the Bolivian driving experience unique to say the least.
First of all, there is only one major high way that is paved and runs across Bolivia. At no point during our trip did I see anything resembling a paved road. Everything was dirt. You don´t need to be all that smart to know that when dirt is mixed with massive quantities of rain water, mud forms. "Keith", our car was suppose to be four wheel drive. It wasn´t the front wheels never moved. This would become a serious issue later on in the first day. So we left the hotel we were staying in that cost a whopping $6 a night at about 10am. The day started out innocent enough. None of else felt all that great because the town we were in Tupiza, is about 8,000 feet high, and we would only be getting higher as the days went on. Altitude sickness in a car going over a bumpy ass dirt road is another terrible combination. WE all managed to hold it together though. We being myself, Natalie (Israel), Annabel (Australia), and a couple Anthony and Vanessa (Australia). Our driver, who was inexperienced to say the least was named Daniel and we had a cook with us as well, her name was Marta. The beginning of the first day was actually quite spectacular. We were driving on a one (and a half) lane dirt road that winded through the mountains. There were giant cliffs that were a bit intimidating, but at this point the road was dry so we didn't think much of it. We stop for a pretty decent lunch, and then we proceed on as normal. Then it begins to rain. Let me stop for a moment and explain rain in the mountains of Bolivia in the wet season. It is not a sprinkle. It is a downpour of epic proportions that causes rivers to rise quite rapidly and causes the roads to deteriorate into piratically undrivable quagmires. Anyway, our driver being new at this whole trip is relying on our cook who has been doing this for two years for directions. We come to a fork in the road. Left or Right. We chose right. I will forever regret going right because right was low ground now a good place to be in a torrential downpour. As we are driving we are fishtailing ever 20 or so feet, and this becomes a very nerve racking experience when you are fishtailing while next to a sizable cliff with no guardrails. Guardrails, seat belts, stop signs, speed limits, and the rest of the common sights on the roads in the states are non existent here. As far as I can tell on the road the bigger car or truck going faster gets the right of way, and if you get in an accident there isn't going to be anyone coming for hours anyway so who needs safety precautions. There is probably a better chance of freezing to death in those mountains if your car breaks down then having someone come and find you. The mountains are quite cold by the way especially at night around 15,000 feet. Anyway, back to going right, we end up driving along fish tailing and what not and then we come to a river. I´d say it was about 40 feet wide with a small island of mud in the middle. Daniel gets out of the car. He surveys the situation, we turn around we lose two hours, we go through it we´re on schedule. Keep in mind the river is getting progressively more treacherous because of the continuing rain. So what does Daniel decide, go across. Stupid, stupid, stupid decision. We floor it. We make it to the mud island, and then the inevitable, the back tires dig into the mud and we are stuck. The front tires on our "4 wheel drive" vehicle fail to move, this will be a problem for the rest of the trip. Four wheel drive is necessary driving like we were. Bu no, not in Bolivia. Daniel tries rocking us out of the mud, no dice. He then tries to dig us out, no dice. The water is rising and our cook is beginning to panic, because as she told me "we are in a very dangerous situation". Alright everybody out of the car. We step out, barefoot, into a mix of ankle deep mud and freezing cold water. It is unpleasant. Daniel hands me a pick and tells me to walk across the rover to dry land and begin to dig bushes and whatever else out of the ground so we can throw it all under the tires. So I do. Swinging a pick at 12,000 feet is an unbelievably tiresome ordeal. After 5 minutes I was dying. Once we think we have enough brush for the car to sufficiently grip. Daniel floors it again, nope, not moving. We go in even deeper and now the river is coming up onto our little "island" filling the hole the tire is in with mud. Bad news. All right, everyone stand in the river behind the car. We are pushing this bastard out. The water was moving very fast, it was very cold, it was mud brown so you could not see where you were stepping and it was thigh deep in some places. Who cares we have to get out of this spot. So we get behind and push. 20 minutes later we are dirtier, colder, and wetter then we were before, but we are still in the mud. It has been an hour and a half of this by now, and we are tired. Luckily, two tour trucks like ours that went the intelligent direction, left, are driving by about a half mile away and they see us. They drive to us, and out hop all of the tourists with their cameras to take pictures of the other tourists, us, who are stuck in the mud. About thirty minutes later, with the help of more people pushing, the winch of one of the rescue trucks, and mother nature for stopping the rain so our tire hole drained we dragged Keith out of the mud. He seemed to be no worse for the wear, but all of his passengers were wet, cold, and sore. Anyway, the other two drivers, recognizing a novice driver when they see one, tell Daniel that they will follow us the next five hours to the place where we all are suppose to stop for the night. Great.
We continue driving the road is still muddy, we are still fishtailing however there are fewer cliffs to be frightened of. But the possibility of flipping the car was still very real. About 2 hours after we were freed, we are going up a hill, and Keith stalls out. By this point in the day Daniel had managed to stall the car about 30 times so I don't think much of it. He turns the key, the engine whines, and doesn´t turn on. Again, same result. Shit. Stuck again, at least there is no water anywhere near us. Daniel and the two drivers following is spend the next 35 minutes apparently hitting the engine with a wrench and yelling "¡dale!" to whoever is behind the wheel until the car starts. Great, everybody back in. So we continue on.
About 2 hours later around nine at night we come to a town. We have a choice, sleep here, or continue another hour and a half to two hours in the dark to our actual final destination. By the way, every town we went through was tiny, cold, and filled with pit toilets and not enough electricity. It is third world, so one town is the same as the next. We choose to go on, and for the second time I would forever regret a decision that Daniel made. Being followed as before we continue through the darkness and certainly close to freezing temperatures. Keith had no heat and no defroster. I could see my breath in the car, and no one, including the driver, could see out of the window in front or next to them. This made for interesting off road driving. about 30 minutes away from the town we come to our second river of the day. Again, it is river, little island this time more solid cause it had not rained there, and then more river. We floor it to the island. WE make it. Daniel stops and surveys the crossing. He gets back into the car and say "I cant see the road on the other side." Logical decision? Gun it. We fly into the river at reasonably high speed. We are making it! Then, We hit the opposite bank, hard. The front bumper bends, and the car is at a 45 degree angle. The back wheels are not getting out of the river no matter what Daniel tries. about a minute later Vanessa informs us that the back is filling up with water. We are sinking deeper into this river. The cook bolts out of the car like greased lightning the moment she hears us say there is water in the car. Her and the driver are the only two that can get out without getting wet unless us in the back wanted to go out to the window. Daniel now decides the good decision would be to back up and try to go forward again. ¡Stupid! We go backwards, the front tires drop from the bank and plunge into the wet ground. Now we are really stuck. The water outside the car is up to the door handles. There is water on the floor steadily rising. What do we do. We decide to get out. I am upstream, and I decide to open my door first. Not a good idea. I open my door fighting the current and as soon as it is cracked water rushes in. We are now seat deep in water, and panic is setting in we have to get out of this car. Because who knows what is going to happen. We open the other back door, the downstream door, water actually begins to flow out. We all decide to make the 15 foot or so walk to land. We take off our shoes and roll up the pants. What we fail to realize is the water is waist deep, and there is a whole along the path we need to walk to get out that will soak all of us thoroughly. Natalie actually completely falls in. We clamber through the stream and emerge onto dry land. We are very very cold and very very wet. It is 1030 at night and we are very high up in the mountains all barefoot and wet. Not a good combination. Daniel is still in the car, which now won´t start because the engine is under water. The two jeeps behind us manage to spot the road and head across the river in its direction. They make it out no problem. Finding the road would have been logical, but logic is not something commonly found on these tours I discovered. the drivers spend the next hour trying to winch, drag, , push, and pull the car out. Nope. Keith is stuck. my friends and I were all given blankets to try to warm up with. I set about trying to start fire to every piece of shrubbery I could walk to barefoot, but to my dismay it was all to wet. No one in my group can feel their feet or their legs for that matter. The people in the other group let us sit in their cars to warm up. Two Irish guys had Valium and let me tell you in that situation that shit was a god send. Everyone took one We were still freezing but we felt better. After some time we end up all piling in the other cars leaving Keith with all of our bags on top of him in the river for the night. The drivers actually went back later to try to get him out but it didn't work. We arrive at this little town in the middle of no where. myself and my group all immediately pass out underneath llama blankets without even saying goodnight or thank you to the other groups for the lift. We wake up in the morning and we are informed that we will be getting a new car and driver later in the day but we have to stay in this town for a day. It is Sunday, it is Annabel´s 27Th birthday. So we scour this town that has one and a half main streets and is probably no bigger than a square acre for beer. We find it. We begin to drink at noon and continue all the way until 10 at night. Altitude helps in the getting drunk process especially at 13,000 feet which is what we were at. About halfway through our birthday drinking session however we hear a truck stop outside our little hut where our beds are. We look outside and there is Keith. Looking no worse then he did when we first got into him. He even turned on. Those Toyota people sure make a bad ass car. We are then told we will be going back with Daniel and Keith for the next two days. We are also informed we will be leaving at 5am the next morning. Great. WE end up finishing out the day taking some funny photos in the process of me chasing llamas and an assortment of other stupid crap. (They will all be on facebook eventually). As I said we go to bed at 10 and wake up the next morning nervous as ever for the rest of our drive, partially because it poured the night before. We pile back into Keith, and off We go. The first three hours were the scariest I think of the trip. It was a mud road with a large cliff next to it for the majority of the morning, I cant tell you how many times I thought we were all going to die. By the end of the morning I was sadly numb to the prospect of death by rolling off the cliff. The road does get better though, and we start to see some really cool and interesting stuff. Geysers, colored lakes, flamingos, hot springs that we swam in. The day in total ends up being upwards of 16 consecutive hours driving it was tough, but worth it. We would still stall all the time, but we had no river crossings and other then the morning the day was reasonably tame. (Photos to be posted)
The next day we wake up early again but it hadn't rained and Keith was performing reasonably well except for a grinding noise if we were in first or second gear, which we were always in. We end up making it to the salt flats which were some of the most amazing things I have ever seen,. They were submerged in water and you could not tell where the land ended and the sky began. It was truly amazing and it made the whole trip´worth it.
To be honest, looking back on the whole situation, it was an amazing trip and certainly a character building experience. I may have gotten over my fear of death, as I think did everyone else in the car. My standard for a road has dropped drastically (if there are are tire tracks on a dirt path that were made by another car it is fair game), my definition of puddle has changed (if the water isn't muddy, cold, rising, and moving its not a puddle), and if I am ever in the car with my kids on a wet paved road and we fish tail and they scream. I'm going to tell them about time their father was in Bolivia, and then leave them all on the side of the road to think about how good they actually have it. Would I recommend this trip. Yes. But then again you could just go straight to Uyuni and take the tour from here avoiding most of the hazardous shit we had to put up with the first day. Overall, good time. I hope you all get a chance to come down and see some of these things one days because, the salt flats (flooded or not) are certainly a wonder of the world in my mind. Take it easy all. I go to Potosi Bolivia tomorrow. The highest city on earth and get to do a tour of the silver mines. hopefully its not as dangerous as my four day tour. Ill write about it in a couple.
First of all, there is only one major high way that is paved and runs across Bolivia. At no point during our trip did I see anything resembling a paved road. Everything was dirt. You don´t need to be all that smart to know that when dirt is mixed with massive quantities of rain water, mud forms. "Keith", our car was suppose to be four wheel drive. It wasn´t the front wheels never moved. This would become a serious issue later on in the first day. So we left the hotel we were staying in that cost a whopping $6 a night at about 10am. The day started out innocent enough. None of else felt all that great because the town we were in Tupiza, is about 8,000 feet high, and we would only be getting higher as the days went on. Altitude sickness in a car going over a bumpy ass dirt road is another terrible combination. WE all managed to hold it together though. We being myself, Natalie (Israel), Annabel (Australia), and a couple Anthony and Vanessa (Australia). Our driver, who was inexperienced to say the least was named Daniel and we had a cook with us as well, her name was Marta. The beginning of the first day was actually quite spectacular. We were driving on a one (and a half) lane dirt road that winded through the mountains. There were giant cliffs that were a bit intimidating, but at this point the road was dry so we didn't think much of it. We stop for a pretty decent lunch, and then we proceed on as normal. Then it begins to rain. Let me stop for a moment and explain rain in the mountains of Bolivia in the wet season. It is not a sprinkle. It is a downpour of epic proportions that causes rivers to rise quite rapidly and causes the roads to deteriorate into piratically undrivable quagmires. Anyway, our driver being new at this whole trip is relying on our cook who has been doing this for two years for directions. We come to a fork in the road. Left or Right. We chose right. I will forever regret going right because right was low ground now a good place to be in a torrential downpour. As we are driving we are fishtailing ever 20 or so feet, and this becomes a very nerve racking experience when you are fishtailing while next to a sizable cliff with no guardrails. Guardrails, seat belts, stop signs, speed limits, and the rest of the common sights on the roads in the states are non existent here. As far as I can tell on the road the bigger car or truck going faster gets the right of way, and if you get in an accident there isn't going to be anyone coming for hours anyway so who needs safety precautions. There is probably a better chance of freezing to death in those mountains if your car breaks down then having someone come and find you. The mountains are quite cold by the way especially at night around 15,000 feet. Anyway, back to going right, we end up driving along fish tailing and what not and then we come to a river. I´d say it was about 40 feet wide with a small island of mud in the middle. Daniel gets out of the car. He surveys the situation, we turn around we lose two hours, we go through it we´re on schedule. Keep in mind the river is getting progressively more treacherous because of the continuing rain. So what does Daniel decide, go across. Stupid, stupid, stupid decision. We floor it. We make it to the mud island, and then the inevitable, the back tires dig into the mud and we are stuck. The front tires on our "4 wheel drive" vehicle fail to move, this will be a problem for the rest of the trip. Four wheel drive is necessary driving like we were. Bu no, not in Bolivia. Daniel tries rocking us out of the mud, no dice. He then tries to dig us out, no dice. The water is rising and our cook is beginning to panic, because as she told me "we are in a very dangerous situation". Alright everybody out of the car. We step out, barefoot, into a mix of ankle deep mud and freezing cold water. It is unpleasant. Daniel hands me a pick and tells me to walk across the rover to dry land and begin to dig bushes and whatever else out of the ground so we can throw it all under the tires. So I do. Swinging a pick at 12,000 feet is an unbelievably tiresome ordeal. After 5 minutes I was dying. Once we think we have enough brush for the car to sufficiently grip. Daniel floors it again, nope, not moving. We go in even deeper and now the river is coming up onto our little "island" filling the hole the tire is in with mud. Bad news. All right, everyone stand in the river behind the car. We are pushing this bastard out. The water was moving very fast, it was very cold, it was mud brown so you could not see where you were stepping and it was thigh deep in some places. Who cares we have to get out of this spot. So we get behind and push. 20 minutes later we are dirtier, colder, and wetter then we were before, but we are still in the mud. It has been an hour and a half of this by now, and we are tired. Luckily, two tour trucks like ours that went the intelligent direction, left, are driving by about a half mile away and they see us. They drive to us, and out hop all of the tourists with their cameras to take pictures of the other tourists, us, who are stuck in the mud. About thirty minutes later, with the help of more people pushing, the winch of one of the rescue trucks, and mother nature for stopping the rain so our tire hole drained we dragged Keith out of the mud. He seemed to be no worse for the wear, but all of his passengers were wet, cold, and sore. Anyway, the other two drivers, recognizing a novice driver when they see one, tell Daniel that they will follow us the next five hours to the place where we all are suppose to stop for the night. Great.
We continue driving the road is still muddy, we are still fishtailing however there are fewer cliffs to be frightened of. But the possibility of flipping the car was still very real. About 2 hours after we were freed, we are going up a hill, and Keith stalls out. By this point in the day Daniel had managed to stall the car about 30 times so I don't think much of it. He turns the key, the engine whines, and doesn´t turn on. Again, same result. Shit. Stuck again, at least there is no water anywhere near us. Daniel and the two drivers following is spend the next 35 minutes apparently hitting the engine with a wrench and yelling "¡dale!" to whoever is behind the wheel until the car starts. Great, everybody back in. So we continue on.
About 2 hours later around nine at night we come to a town. We have a choice, sleep here, or continue another hour and a half to two hours in the dark to our actual final destination. By the way, every town we went through was tiny, cold, and filled with pit toilets and not enough electricity. It is third world, so one town is the same as the next. We choose to go on, and for the second time I would forever regret a decision that Daniel made. Being followed as before we continue through the darkness and certainly close to freezing temperatures. Keith had no heat and no defroster. I could see my breath in the car, and no one, including the driver, could see out of the window in front or next to them. This made for interesting off road driving. about 30 minutes away from the town we come to our second river of the day. Again, it is river, little island this time more solid cause it had not rained there, and then more river. We floor it to the island. WE make it. Daniel stops and surveys the crossing. He gets back into the car and say "I cant see the road on the other side." Logical decision? Gun it. We fly into the river at reasonably high speed. We are making it! Then, We hit the opposite bank, hard. The front bumper bends, and the car is at a 45 degree angle. The back wheels are not getting out of the river no matter what Daniel tries. about a minute later Vanessa informs us that the back is filling up with water. We are sinking deeper into this river. The cook bolts out of the car like greased lightning the moment she hears us say there is water in the car. Her and the driver are the only two that can get out without getting wet unless us in the back wanted to go out to the window. Daniel now decides the good decision would be to back up and try to go forward again. ¡Stupid! We go backwards, the front tires drop from the bank and plunge into the wet ground. Now we are really stuck. The water outside the car is up to the door handles. There is water on the floor steadily rising. What do we do. We decide to get out. I am upstream, and I decide to open my door first. Not a good idea. I open my door fighting the current and as soon as it is cracked water rushes in. We are now seat deep in water, and panic is setting in we have to get out of this car. Because who knows what is going to happen. We open the other back door, the downstream door, water actually begins to flow out. We all decide to make the 15 foot or so walk to land. We take off our shoes and roll up the pants. What we fail to realize is the water is waist deep, and there is a whole along the path we need to walk to get out that will soak all of us thoroughly. Natalie actually completely falls in. We clamber through the stream and emerge onto dry land. We are very very cold and very very wet. It is 1030 at night and we are very high up in the mountains all barefoot and wet. Not a good combination. Daniel is still in the car, which now won´t start because the engine is under water. The two jeeps behind us manage to spot the road and head across the river in its direction. They make it out no problem. Finding the road would have been logical, but logic is not something commonly found on these tours I discovered. the drivers spend the next hour trying to winch, drag, , push, and pull the car out. Nope. Keith is stuck. my friends and I were all given blankets to try to warm up with. I set about trying to start fire to every piece of shrubbery I could walk to barefoot, but to my dismay it was all to wet. No one in my group can feel their feet or their legs for that matter. The people in the other group let us sit in their cars to warm up. Two Irish guys had Valium and let me tell you in that situation that shit was a god send. Everyone took one We were still freezing but we felt better. After some time we end up all piling in the other cars leaving Keith with all of our bags on top of him in the river for the night. The drivers actually went back later to try to get him out but it didn't work. We arrive at this little town in the middle of no where. myself and my group all immediately pass out underneath llama blankets without even saying goodnight or thank you to the other groups for the lift. We wake up in the morning and we are informed that we will be getting a new car and driver later in the day but we have to stay in this town for a day. It is Sunday, it is Annabel´s 27Th birthday. So we scour this town that has one and a half main streets and is probably no bigger than a square acre for beer. We find it. We begin to drink at noon and continue all the way until 10 at night. Altitude helps in the getting drunk process especially at 13,000 feet which is what we were at. About halfway through our birthday drinking session however we hear a truck stop outside our little hut where our beds are. We look outside and there is Keith. Looking no worse then he did when we first got into him. He even turned on. Those Toyota people sure make a bad ass car. We are then told we will be going back with Daniel and Keith for the next two days. We are also informed we will be leaving at 5am the next morning. Great. WE end up finishing out the day taking some funny photos in the process of me chasing llamas and an assortment of other stupid crap. (They will all be on facebook eventually). As I said we go to bed at 10 and wake up the next morning nervous as ever for the rest of our drive, partially because it poured the night before. We pile back into Keith, and off We go. The first three hours were the scariest I think of the trip. It was a mud road with a large cliff next to it for the majority of the morning, I cant tell you how many times I thought we were all going to die. By the end of the morning I was sadly numb to the prospect of death by rolling off the cliff. The road does get better though, and we start to see some really cool and interesting stuff. Geysers, colored lakes, flamingos, hot springs that we swam in. The day in total ends up being upwards of 16 consecutive hours driving it was tough, but worth it. We would still stall all the time, but we had no river crossings and other then the morning the day was reasonably tame. (Photos to be posted)
The next day we wake up early again but it hadn't rained and Keith was performing reasonably well except for a grinding noise if we were in first or second gear, which we were always in. We end up making it to the salt flats which were some of the most amazing things I have ever seen,. They were submerged in water and you could not tell where the land ended and the sky began. It was truly amazing and it made the whole trip´worth it.
To be honest, looking back on the whole situation, it was an amazing trip and certainly a character building experience. I may have gotten over my fear of death, as I think did everyone else in the car. My standard for a road has dropped drastically (if there are are tire tracks on a dirt path that were made by another car it is fair game), my definition of puddle has changed (if the water isn't muddy, cold, rising, and moving its not a puddle), and if I am ever in the car with my kids on a wet paved road and we fish tail and they scream. I'm going to tell them about time their father was in Bolivia, and then leave them all on the side of the road to think about how good they actually have it. Would I recommend this trip. Yes. But then again you could just go straight to Uyuni and take the tour from here avoiding most of the hazardous shit we had to put up with the first day. Overall, good time. I hope you all get a chance to come down and see some of these things one days because, the salt flats (flooded or not) are certainly a wonder of the world in my mind. Take it easy all. I go to Potosi Bolivia tomorrow. The highest city on earth and get to do a tour of the silver mines. hopefully its not as dangerous as my four day tour. Ill write about it in a couple.
Friday, January 11, 2008
Day One in Bolivia
So we left Salta last night at midnight. We arrived at the Bolivian border at about 7am. We had to get our exit stamps from Argentina, which took about 30 minutes of standing in line. I was also woefully under dressed. I thought this part of the world would be the same altitude and same temperature as Salta. I was wrong. It was quite cold and we are reasonably high up at the moment. So my shorts and t-shirt, not a good idea. But after some waiting, and a solid number of butts, we make it through the line. Now we get to the Bolivian side. We were crossing the border from La Quica, Argentina into Villazòn, Bolivia. So, again, we stand in line. Thank you to the government of the United States I need a visa now to get into Bolivia. I may have written about this already. Anyhow, I am in the line waiting to get my visa. I get to the front of the line, with all my forms filled out and my hundred dollars in my hand, and...the guy tells me to step to the side for a moment. He has to go into the safe that is in the middle of the very very small and very very crowded waiting room to get a visa out. Guess what happens? This guy cant figure out how to open the safe. After five minutes he informs his co worker up his predicament. so another guy comes out. No dice, still cant crack this damn thing. Meanwhile, I am standing in a very uncomfortable position surrounded by a mob of Bolivians. Now in town they seem to be very nice people, but at the border control they are all animals. In general, the average Bolivian is short and round. No taller then 5`4 or 5`5 and they are hefty, the woman especially. I am much bigger than most everyone I have seen here. But these people didn't give a shit. I was getting knocked around, run into, and I`m pretty sure I was groped at least once. its gotta be the blue eyes. But I digress, returning to the unopenable safe. The safe issue lasts well over an hour while I remain in the same awkward position gradually being crushed by a sea of ompaloompas. As you can see, at that point in time, I did not have the highest opinion of the Bolivian people. Eventually, the border control guy calls his friend "the plumber" and this guy is actually able to open the safe. I`m not positive, but I dont think that in the US a non government employee would be allowed to crack a safe at customs that contained government visas and cash. Then again, the US would probably not put a safe in the middle of a crowded public room, and it would probably be electronic or something. The safe that the "plumber" cracked was stolen off the set of one of the first American Westerns ever made. In the end, I do get out, and I am legally alllowed to be in this country. (That is more than I can say for my friend Rainee when she traveled with me to BA. she just stayed on the bus at the border crossing becasue she had lost a form. So technically, no one even knew she left Brazil. Thats another story though.) We then took a bus from Villazon to Tupiza. This was a very scary busride in a very overpacked bus. We were on nothing but dirt roads the whole time, and whenever we were going around a blind turn, instead of slowing down, the bus driver would speed up and just lay on the horn until we had made it around. We were almost hit by a truck once, and Im pretty sure we ran over a dog. But we made it to where we have to be and we go no the Salt flat tours to Uyuni in two days.
Ive been walking around Tupìza for the past hour or so and I have to say it is a cool little town. It has character. There are a lot of very native looking people here wearing traditional Bolivian indian clothing. Its very colorful and really interesting to see. They women are the only ones who seem to be working, and whenever I see a woman walk by with a baby I can be sure that the baby is tied to her back using a sarong of sorts. Its amazing how little things have changed in the very long history of these people. The clothing is still remarkably similar to what it was hundreds of years ago as are many of the customs from what Ive read and seen. What is weird though is that mixed in with that feeling of tradition and history, I see some hot girls walking around in pratically spray on pants and Gucci sun glasses, and I mean I am sitting in an internet cafe right now. Its an interesting mix of old and new. I cant help but wonder which one will win out in the end though. Well I think thats all i got for right now. I might come back later and try to write down a story or two from the past month or so. Hasta Luego.
Ive been walking around Tupìza for the past hour or so and I have to say it is a cool little town. It has character. There are a lot of very native looking people here wearing traditional Bolivian indian clothing. Its very colorful and really interesting to see. They women are the only ones who seem to be working, and whenever I see a woman walk by with a baby I can be sure that the baby is tied to her back using a sarong of sorts. Its amazing how little things have changed in the very long history of these people. The clothing is still remarkably similar to what it was hundreds of years ago as are many of the customs from what Ive read and seen. What is weird though is that mixed in with that feeling of tradition and history, I see some hot girls walking around in pratically spray on pants and Gucci sun glasses, and I mean I am sitting in an internet cafe right now. Its an interesting mix of old and new. I cant help but wonder which one will win out in the end though. Well I think thats all i got for right now. I might come back later and try to write down a story or two from the past month or so. Hasta Luego.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Still following the Gringo trail
So its Thursday, January 10, 2008. I am leaving Salta, Argentina tonight and going to Bolivia. You did read that correctly it does say Bolivia. This should be one of the more interesting parts of the trip. Let me tell you a little about my New Year`s Eve as well. I think most of you may know that I was robbed at about 4am in Mendoza, Argentina on Jan. 1. So here is what happened. I was walking around, drunk, well blind drunk, and I walk past a kid of about 19 or so. As soon as I walk by him I get sucker punched in the side of the face. I hit the ground. Immediately, I stand back up and turn and face my asailant (sic?). Needless to say, I was unhappy and at this point I wanted to kill this kid. As I am about to swing at him, I get sucker punched for a second time by another kid. For the second time that night, I found myself on the ground. I would not be getting off the ground for some time after that point. As I try to get up the second time, I am kicked quite hard in the stomach by a third kid. I know realize this is not going to go my way so I just cover my face with my arms, and let me tell you I got an ass kicking. A fourth kid actually showed up as well. They mercilessly kicked me for about 5 minutes screaming a variety of swears at me, all the while I am on the ground thinking that they werent going to stop until I was dead. They do end up stopping, and I dont remeber much after this. At some point however, I was relieved of my wallet. They stole 50 pesos (16 US$) and they got my credit and debit card. Sweet. I eventually found the police. They took down my story called an ambulance to clean me up and then they were kind enough to drive me back to my hostel. Good news, I have now been in the back of a police car in two countries. They didnt however find my wallet. I look at it this way though, the Year cant really get any worse. Its gotta get better from here, knock on wood.
So beyond that Salta was cool. We rented a car and drove around for three days, Ill be posting pictures on facebook shortly. and now I am heading to Bolivia. Home to a lot of poor people, coca leaves, and guinea pig on a stick (its roasted and eaten. Awesome). We are going to Tupiza to tour the salt flats, then to Potosi to buy dynamite, yes dynamite, and tour the mines. WE actually get to light it, hold it, and then blow something up with it. That has to be fun. The mines however are suppose to be a really sad spectacle, where the average miner can expect to live no longer than 10 years after starting the job. But the tourists who go there bring them supplies and "gifts" (coca leaves, cigarettes, booze, and dynamite) so apparently they are quite friendly and language permitting they are more than willing to tell you about their lives. So I am looking forward to learning a littel about the people. WE will also be crawling through the mines which is said to be a terrifying and quite claustraphobic experience. After that who knows. WE plan on eventually making it to La Paz, the capital, and then we will keep on going. The only problem is becasue the US govenrment sucks, reciprocity sucks as well, you know need a visa to enter Bolivia. This will cost me $100 and im sure be a hassle. So thats not cool.
To finish, I would lik to say that if you ever come to Argentina there are some must see and must do things: stay in hostel Estoril in Buenos Aires, go to Iguazu falls, the falls are truly some of the most amazing things I have ever seen in my life, dont go to Mendoza, Check out the town surrounding Salta. Swim in the lakes in Bariloche on Christmas (they are 40 degrees) because Christmas is hot as shit in South America, and for certain go hiking in Parque nacional Torres del Paine. Those are just a few of my tips. You can always ask for more. Ill try to be more frequent with these blogs, I know Ive said that before, but who knows that the internet situation will be like in Bolivia. Hopefully good. Finally, I would also like to thank all my friends who have been sending me messages and what not on facebook and those who send me emails. I love reading them hearing about your lives at home, all the funny shit you have to say, and everything else. Im far from home and well out of the loop, but becasue of all of you I dont feel that left out and I find myself not missing home as much as I thought I would. So thank you, a lot. Merry Christmas, Happy New Year. Behave yourselves, becasue you can be damn sure I wont be in Bolivia.
So beyond that Salta was cool. We rented a car and drove around for three days, Ill be posting pictures on facebook shortly. and now I am heading to Bolivia. Home to a lot of poor people, coca leaves, and guinea pig on a stick (its roasted and eaten. Awesome). We are going to Tupiza to tour the salt flats, then to Potosi to buy dynamite, yes dynamite, and tour the mines. WE actually get to light it, hold it, and then blow something up with it. That has to be fun. The mines however are suppose to be a really sad spectacle, where the average miner can expect to live no longer than 10 years after starting the job. But the tourists who go there bring them supplies and "gifts" (coca leaves, cigarettes, booze, and dynamite) so apparently they are quite friendly and language permitting they are more than willing to tell you about their lives. So I am looking forward to learning a littel about the people. WE will also be crawling through the mines which is said to be a terrifying and quite claustraphobic experience. After that who knows. WE plan on eventually making it to La Paz, the capital, and then we will keep on going. The only problem is becasue the US govenrment sucks, reciprocity sucks as well, you know need a visa to enter Bolivia. This will cost me $100 and im sure be a hassle. So thats not cool.
To finish, I would lik to say that if you ever come to Argentina there are some must see and must do things: stay in hostel Estoril in Buenos Aires, go to Iguazu falls, the falls are truly some of the most amazing things I have ever seen in my life, dont go to Mendoza, Check out the town surrounding Salta. Swim in the lakes in Bariloche on Christmas (they are 40 degrees) because Christmas is hot as shit in South America, and for certain go hiking in Parque nacional Torres del Paine. Those are just a few of my tips. You can always ask for more. Ill try to be more frequent with these blogs, I know Ive said that before, but who knows that the internet situation will be like in Bolivia. Hopefully good. Finally, I would also like to thank all my friends who have been sending me messages and what not on facebook and those who send me emails. I love reading them hearing about your lives at home, all the funny shit you have to say, and everything else. Im far from home and well out of the loop, but becasue of all of you I dont feel that left out and I find myself not missing home as much as I thought I would. So thank you, a lot. Merry Christmas, Happy New Year. Behave yourselves, becasue you can be damn sure I wont be in Bolivia.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
