Searching for Peace

We left Copacabana looking for a little quiet time. It turned out to be much harder to find than we had hoped. Our first stop was in La Paz, a giant cloud of smog and traffic with every street as packed as the busses that clog them. The only thing tidy and clean in this city was my chin after the barber cut my beard off against my orders. After a couple of days we had had enough and continued on to Cochabamba to search for greener pastures. This turned out to be a bad choice.



Our intention was to work at an NGO that made and promoted solar ovens in an effort to help delay deforestation. In the first day we had stopped by the site and arranged things with the owner, and although the city was rather depressing, we even managed to find a nice little apartment right downtown. It was going well so far, perhaps too well. The landlord at the apartment was a little old Bolivian lady, probably in her late 40´s, with huge fangs and twisted horns protruding from the side of her head. Despite her slightly terrifying demeanor and penetrating stench, we signed the rental contract for the month and moved all our stuff into the apartment. I awoke the next morning to the unfortunate sight of Viviana battling another sickness, and while I tried to reassure her I heard the loud clopping of hooves on the staircase and immediately knew our happy little apartment wasn´t going to last. I could see the landlord was upset by the smoke protruding from her nostrils. She explained to us that she had added a few rules to the contract and wanted us to sign a new one. This time it included such clauses as ´no guests ever in the house´ and ´no alcoholic beverages allowed in the apartment.´ Clearly this wasn´t going to work, so less than 12 short hours after our arrival we were packing up again.

A glance at the calendar made me aware that we only had about 3 weeks left to volunteer, and the solar place had asked for a 1 month minimum commitment. After checking the place out we didn´t feel like we could help much in so short a time, so we went to investigate our backup plan, a school in the poor suburbs of Cochabamba where we could help with classes and activities. Again we spoke with the director and got things arranged. Our spirits lifted with the sight of all the adorable little children bouncing around the playground and we felt renewed. That is until we got back to the depressing concrete prison of Cochabamba and realized we still had nowhere to stay. This time we were just looking for a hostel we could live at for a few weeks. It needed a kitchen, a common area, and a decent price. After a thorough 3 day search of the city we were still completely empty handed, and now I was starting to feel a similar sickness as Viviana had been feeling the last couple days. Depressed and defeated, we decided to take evasive action and hop the next bus out of town. A claustrophobically awkward ride with our backpacks on a public city bus, a hectic terminal with rude employees, and a retarded kid pacing up and down the bus screeching out of key religious songs put us on the edge of a nervous breakdown until we finally saw the city lights fade away behind the bus. We had spent a horrifically stressful week trying to volunteer, and as those in search of peace often do, we followed the road to the East.

An overnight bus to Santa Cruz followed by a collectivo along the Amborò Jungle Reserve brought us to the chilled out hamlet of Samaipata. We checked into a hostel with a nice balcony and an open kitchen and let out a big sigh of relief. Now it was just a question of sleeping in and enjoying the nearby attractions at our leisure. We managed to visit the Fuerte de Samaipata, an ancient pre-incan ruin carved into a humongous rock, and the waterfalls of Las Cuevas, which included some nice quick-sand beaches you could sink deep into. The next night brought a little hannukah celebration, which included donuts, potato pancakes, and a pissed off hostel owner that kicked all of our new Israeli friends out of the hostel the next day. After another lazy day of rest we headed out to the remote La Pajcha waterfall for some camping and playing in the sand. Finally we were starting to feel the stress leaving the body, and after 5 nights in Samaipata we decided to leave the fresh mountain air and head down into the steamy jungle.

Trinidad is the capital of the Beni province in northern Bolivia. It´s hot and sticky, and just a stones throw from the Rio Ibara and the Rio Mamorè, two large Amazonian rivers full of life. While Viviana has been battling yet another bout of stomach problems (Bolivian hospitals make Peruvian hospitals look like palaces of cleanliness and security), we have managed to enjoy the splendors of the jungle a bit so far. This time we rented a motorcycle... ok it was a scooter... and cruised off to the river where we saw pink river dolphins swimming amongst the lillipads. We paid a local $2 to use his canoe for the day and paddled down the river a little ways, sighting a large family of capybaras on the bank, as well as numerous species of birds and a lot of jumping fish. Now we are waiting out the last fading signs of Vivianas stomach illness, at which point we will probably move on to the more touristy town of Rurrenabaque to continue exploring the Bolivian Amazon. We´ve made a point to slow down a bit in Bolivia and it has definitely been a nice break from the constant travelling. Hopefully the rivers of western Beni will continue to wash away the stress and channel in the relaxation...