Feels Like Bolivia

Prepare the Cabin

“Flight attendants, prepare the cabin for crossing the Andes.” In all my years of flying I have never heard such an announcement. As I looked down at the endless mountains stretching to the horizon, which seemed awfully close, my mind immediately went to story of the Uruguayan rugby team that crashed in these mountains as told in the film Alive.

There was no need to worry, as it turns out. The expected turbulence never materialized and the view was stunning.

My original plan was to bus from Brazil to Chile, but the timing didn’t work out. Instead, I was grateful to enjoy this spectacular show from above.

Memories

Someday I’ll write the story of meeting Miguel and Yuri, two teenage brothers who watched cars at the movie theater below where I lived in Santa Cruz, Bolivia. I happened to live in the only apartment in the building – on the roof four stories above the theater. It was 1990 and I had just moved to Bolivia to teach for two years.

This story precedes the one I told about meeting Pércio and Alex, along with their family, but it is no less important and meaningful in my life. I’ll save the details for another time.

Fast forward thirty-four years, Miguel and I are both in our 50s, and the bond between the three of us is as strong as ever.

As soon as I arrived and was picked up at the airport by Miguel and Yuri’s sons, who were less than 10 years old last time I saw them, we began reliving the stories their father has told them of our friendship. The time I was robbed at the pool outside of the city we used to go to always brings lots of laughs – especially the image of Yuri sitting shirtless and shoeless on the bus back to town while I wore his tiny t-shirt and shoes – the only thing the thieves left!

There are albums full of photos of our time together, which we always look through when we get together. They even have pictures of my sister Kathy visiting me in Bolivia in 1992.

Miguel’s daughter who was a newborn when I met her is now a high school student! His older daughter is now an accountant with the mining company.

And of course there are new members of the family. Yuri and his wife have two more adorable kids who were born since my last visit, Luz and Yerson, who impressed me with their English phrases.

Luz and Yerson also took to my camera and were fast learners. Many of the photos below were taken by them. We spent an afternoon and evening together practicing English, playing marbles, sharing more funny stories from the past, and enjoying two delicious meals prepared by Leslie, Yuri’s wife.

I couldn’t help but notice the similarity in the bond between these two beautiful kids and the one between my grandkids. We even Facetimed with Zinnia and Anave. When I translated what Luz said in Spanish (“My uncle Tim is not returning to the US. He’s going to stay here with us.”), Zinnia immediately made it clear that that was not okay!

The family has been living in Calama, Chile (in the region that used to belong to Bolivia) for over ten years where there are more opportunities for work, and where many Bolivians have been coming for decades to find work. This is a copper mining region in the Atacama Desert. Many in the family have found work in the mining industry. The work schedules are intense (14 days on, 14 days off, for example).

It was great to hang out with all of the family members, including Tia Monica who was visiting from Bolivia. We shared stories of being away from our grandkids.

Keep on scrolling – there is so much more to share about this wonderful family and the incredible hospitality and unique experiences they gave me during my brief visit.

When in Rome

I’ve decided that “I don’t eat meat” just cannot be translated accurately, at least not with my friends here in Chile. I’ve had to take a break from my vegetarian diet because when a family honors their guest from the US with a specially prepared meal, how could I say no? And when I’m told that hot dogs and chicken aren’t meat, I just give in. Anyway, the food was delicious!

On my first morning I was brought to a salteña restaurant. Salteñas are a specialty in Bolivia, and I ate them all the time when I lived there. I’ve never found anything like them anywhere else. They are always filled with meat. I had two chicken salteñas and was immediately brought back to Santa Cruz. In fact, the restaurant we ate at was run by a family from there.

Two days later, I was back at the same restaurant ordering two more chicken salteñas.

I haven’t missed eating meat since I gave it up seven years ago, but I will say that the pork I ate at a baptism on Saturday is something I will be dreaming about for some time. The chef at the party, a friend of the family, came in from La Paz, and everything was delicious.

I had planned on slipping my slab of pork onto Miguel’s plate, but once I took a taste I couldn’t stop. The pig had been roasted overnight. I licked the bones clean, like a true carnivore, though I did skip the layer of fat!

A Baptism and A “Party”

I was so honored to be invited to a baptism. Miguel and his wife Marliele were the godparents to one of the two girls being baptized. It took place in San Pedro de Atacama, a small oasis town in the desert filled with adobe homes and tourists from all over the world seeking the nearby natural wonders.

On Saturday morning, we caught an early bus from Calama for the ninety-minute ride. As soon as we left the city, I was captivated by the gorgeous landscape. I may have dozed off at one point (according to Mariele) but other than that I was transfixed by the scenery.

David, Miguel’s son (the one in the yellow sweatshirt in the photo above from 2010) picked us up in the van he uses to drive tourists to the sites. He started this job three months ago and has learned so much in such a short time.

He brought us to the home of his boss, Miguel’s friend and the father of the two girls being baptized. They gave us breakfast before we rushed off to the small church in the center of town.

Besides the family and the godparents, there were just a few other guests. How fortunate I am to have had such an intimate experience. I noticed backpackers and other tourists milling about outside the church, peering in with what I imagined to be envy.

After the ceremony we had time to see the town and for David to bring us to some of the local sites outside of town (more on that in the next section).

It’s hard to describe the baptism party other than to say that it seemed like a bigger deal than a wedding. Here are some observations.

We arrived at 1 pm and enjoyed some drinks and appetizers. Guests trickled in over several hours.

Each time a guest arrived, the parents and godparents greeted them with confetti. The guests then presented gifts and pinned money on each of the girl’s dresses. I was grateful to have Mariele’s help when my turn came!

Another Bolivian tradition, which I quickly remembered after receiving my first beer, is that everyone drinks together. After pouring a few drops on the ground for Pachamama (Mother Earth), one must drink only when someone says “Salud.” Even as the party guests grew in number, the tradition continued.

A truck pulled in at 3 pm loaded with sound equipment to set up for the band. Guests continued to arrive. The pork dish was served at 5:30, after toasts and speeches by the parents and godparents.

I had decided earlier that I would head back to Calama that night instead of spending the night. Not having any idea how this party would work, I booked my ticket for 6 pm. I dashed off after eating and clearly missed most of the party! The band hadn’t even started.

I was told the party would continue all night, and on Sunday everyone would gather again. This time, they would count the money received and the godparents would add more if the total wasn’t sufficient. I was never clear on how a sufficient total would be decided. The hosts also said there would be more dancing on Sunday night. Whew!

On my ride back to Calama, I took in the darkening desert sky with the nearly full moon over the Licancabur Volcano. I would be missing the band and dancing, but I had a full stomach, a beautiful view, and wonderful memories.

Walking on the Moon

Are you worn out from reading all of this? Imagine how I felt experiencing all of these adventures! I can’t end this post without sharing some photos of the Valley of Death and the Valley of the Moon, two of the places David brought us to. We had a private tour with a professional driver/guide. What a treat!

I really am walking on the moon after spending time with this warm and loving family. Already looking forward to our next reunion which I have promised will happen before another fourteen years passes!