zoodles

I'm hyped about my new convertible glove-mitts combination!!

I´m guessing they were made in China, owing to the washing instructions that I can't read. I can type in comfort and at tea time roll the tops down and cling to my mug.

Other aquisitions include these great handmade felt flowers that I bought at a craft sale organized by Aid for Artisans:


I love them! The color, the texture, the proportions. I love them! Here's a close up:


Does it produce the same effect for you?

They're made by a woman's collective in El Alto. I want to go and visit to see how they make them etc. It turns out another woman I work with, Colette from Holland, knows someone who works there, so I may have an "in"!!

In other "news" (I'm playing catch up) I'm thrilled to be reading a book in Spanish. It's the Alchemist, by Paulo Coelho, a Brazilian writer:

It's a great story about a shephard who has a dream about being led to the pyramids by a little boy. Then he meets a mysterious man who knows intimate details of his life, and convinces the shepard to sell his heard and follow hid dream. It's about "dreams and destiny" as it says on the cover.

But other than it being a good book, I'm excited that I'm able to read -and enjoy- it in Spanish. I didn't even think of that option, as I jammed 20 or more books into my luggage before leaving!

Here are a few photos from around La Paz…
This is along my way to work. It was a particularly foggy and beautiful morning when I shot this.


Here's the neighbourhood where Mauricio grew up, Villa San Antonio (Villa Copacabana, Villa…) Villas are the really densely populated communities and are considered somewhat low-class.

Here’s a close up with Mauricio’s dad’s house highlighted. On the ground floor is Mauricio’s aunt and two adopted nieces, on the second floor is his dad (was his family before his parents divorced) on the third floor is his grandmother and the top floor is rented.

Here is the neighbourhood of Miraflores, close up, more or less where I lived the last time I was here. The next layer is alto obrajes and then in the background is Zona Sur where all the rich people, diplomats and politicians live. See the little tooth shaped mountain in the distance? Mauricio and I climbed up there last year. There’s a really cute and quiet pueblo just below it.

Here is the main plaza, Plaza San Fransisco. It’s right downtown, on the main drag which is called the Prado and right across from Perez an important point for changing your bus etc. This is where there is a big Christmas market each year. Also, every other Saturday (in theory – it’s been raining) I do crafts with kids in the street.

All of the little vehicles you see are different forms of public transit, big buses, little buses, taxis. Check out the little white one pointed towards the right. Those are really tiny, but fit seven passengers!!

I had what could possibly be one of the worst experiences of my life this weekend. I went on a two-day hike in the Cordillera Real. A Swiss girl, Stephanie, invited me and said it would be about six hours of hiking each day, but it turned out to be about nine hours each day. And, I’m not sure why, but everyone else seemed reasonably capable, but I was the runt always struggling to catch up. The altitude was killing me, I felt like vomiting, and couldn’t eat. The Swiss hikers had a theory about the efficiency of a constant hiking pace, and that everyone has to keep to their own pace. Thus they often left me in the dust. It was lonely and painful. The worst part was knowing that the only way out was on my own two feet, and I felt like I was getting sicker in the stomach.

I burst into tears when I got home :o( I’m on the mend though. I spent all day in bed yesterday and am hobbling around OK today. I still feel nauseas and weird. The landscapes were so beautiful, which is hard for me to reconcile. I have mixed feelings when I look at the photos. Here are a few:

This is the 10km road that goes to the start of the trail. There are no buses that come out here. Though it doesn’t look very steep, it’s at such an altitude that there’s very little air. I felt like I had asthma.

Here is a typical campesino dwelling in this area, built of rock. It’s amazing that people live way out here, where a trip to the nearest village by foot takes an entire day.


This is the view from where we start our descent, on the first day. We will spend the night tucked into these green mountains, and end the next day, way off in the blue ones.


Down, down, down, cursing gravity.


This is the very little pueblito where we spent the night. I highlighted the little hut were we slept.


And this is a close up of the little stone hut. There were nine of us squished inside; we met two other Swiss hikers on the way. I don’t think anyone slept too well, the floor is made of lumpy stone covered with a thin layer of straw. The owners were right next door in another pair of huts, one for cooking and one for sleeping, a little and either his weathered mother, or his grandmother.


As we descend into the more tropical area called Yungas there is more plant life.


Home is so far away…


Boo hoo hoo..