La Paz (Bolivia)

There are several other La Paz’s in the world, so if you Google it, make sure you’re looking for the one in Bolivia! Also, the first photos that usually pop up are of a beautifully colorful quiet street. We found it, and it is truly lovely, but it is not typical of the area!

The city is a true wonder! It is built in a valley and expands up the mountainside (and yet is still at over 11,000 feet). At the top of the mountain is El Alto, the sister city, a sprawling metropolis that we understand is the highest city in the world.

Streets are narrow, most are cobblestone, and it seems that no matter where you go, you must walk up as well as down. Traffic is hectic, busy, and crossing the street was at times like taking your life into your own hands. Most of the cars were taxis, small minibuses or a scattering of large tourist buses. We saw incredibly few personal cars. One guide told us that they like traffic lights there, they are like Christmas lights: real pretty for decorations but don’t serve a real purpose.

Plus, many of the streets were taken over by markets. You could walk for miles in this city through markets that spill over sidewalks. Small stores have doors open in the street, and women set up small tables or just mats on the ground with a tarp tent above them selling just about anything you could think of. Stores and booths were generally grouped together, so we’d see stalls of soaps and shampoos, then ones of shoes, others of light bulbs and brooms, then clothing ones, pastas, fish, fresh fruit. It was almost like a giant Target, but every aisle was sponsored by a different person and you the customer got some choice over your product and price. It was overwhelming to be sure, but no one was pushy. Sure, they offered, but when we said, “No gracias,” they smiled politely and went on to the next person.

Our favorite shopping was of course in the tourist shops where colors galore filled every shelf. They were filled with sweaters, ponchos, scarves and pillow cases. There were purses, pouches and earrings, enough to fill the rainbow. Cozy socks and leg warmers adorned with alpacas and cute fuzzy miniature alpacas attracted our attention (although we still have yet to see an alpaca, but I hear they do exist!).

We saw dogs everywhere roaming the streets. They didn’t beg, and while they didn’t always look clean, they didn’t look starved. More often than not, they were wearing some sort dog sweater. In fact, I’ve never seen more dog adornments in any one area than I saw in Bolivia. We also learned that many are “community” dogs that are looked after by many who live in the area.

On our first morning, well, afternoon, as we slept the morning away, a parade greeted us outside our balcony window. Yes, our precious little room even included a tiny balcony. As it turns out, Thursday was Corpus Christi Day, a religious holiday, and much of the city was off of work celebrating. We believe the Arch Bishop rode by our window, followed by different organizations and a few bands. Quite the considerate way for the Bolivians to welcome us to their country!

On our first afternoon, we took a great walking tour with Denise. She was energetic, proud of her city and a great story teller. Our tour started in a lovely little square, but she chose that spot because of the building adjacent to the square. It was a large, unassuming building with no windows and a long line of people outside. It was in fact a low-security prison, and Denise had stories galore about what goes on in there. 

Inside, there is very little police presence so the 3,000 men have created their own little world inside. Different areas in the prison are nicer than others and require rent that matches the level of accommodation. Some families even move into the prison so that they are only paying one rent. As it is its own little community, people inside have jobs. There are elected leaders and other people share their traits and talents like mending, cooking, cleaning, building, etc. Some people had to get creative to find a job and became taxis. No, there are no cars within the building, but rather just a person who holds your hand and leads you through the complicated web inside and delivers you to your loved one. As one could only expect, the production of cocaine is also a large money maker inside, and the guards seem to turn the other way. To get the products outside, they often find holes in the walls or ceiling and throw out a diaper filled with the drugs. Brad Pitt actually bought the movie rights to a book, Marching Powder, written by an Australian man who chose to live inside for three months to see what was really going on.

We also learned about the cholitas. I have done some research to make sure that I am using this word appropriately and its meaning, so if in my following statements I say something wrong, please let me know. Cholita usually refers to a woman who self identifies as a member of an indigenous culture. This means, she dresses in traditional clothing and follows traditional beliefs, customs and ways of life. When the indigenous women first encountered the European women, they were enthralled with the large hoop skirts and have over the years developed their own poofy skirts. Their skirts extenuate the hips, as wide-hips are known to be attractive as they show potential for child-bearing, and cholitas often have 8-12 children. The women carry all they can to sell on the market streets in large, colorful cloths they tie up and carry on their backs. Because of this (and think of what I’ve already told you about La Paz), do you know what is considered to be the sexiest part of the cholita? No, not the hips. The calves. These women walk up and down streets hauling heavy loads, and often a small child or two. Plus, they are wearing long, thick skirts and so they rarely show off the strong muscles hidden underneath. Plus, you know those small hats they wear upon their heads? Well, of course they have a history as well! When the Europeans were first sending over items to sell to the indigenous people, they were planning to send the popular hats at the time (think top hats with a mix of Charlie Chaplin). They knew that the people of the area were shorter, so they assumed their heads were smaller, and sent hats that were small. Salesmen however, did a great job upon their arrival, and now women still wear these small hats.

We went on another food tour, because, as I’ve told you, that’s one of our favorite things to do! I didn’t catch as much information on this one, but I once again over stuffed myself. We ate more beef heart, and I must admit that I ate a lot and it was divine. Sure, it does sound disturbing, but you must remember their love of Mother Earth, and so, in honoring the animal, they still use every part of it. A tasty smoothie gave us some much needed vitamins. There were trout and pork dishes with potatoes. Potatoes are a staple here with over 1200 varieties. People even dehydrate potatoes and keep them for years before rehydrating them and cooking them. I loved the tasty sweet drink and the peanut soup, but my favorite of the night was api con pastel. The pastel was a sort of puff pastry with powdered sugar on top and creamy cheese in the middle. The drink was perfect on a cold night. It was warm and filling and tasted of Christmas. It was made of two different corns (white and purple), and make sure to think closer to grits than corn syrup, with a touch of orange and a lot of cloves and cinnamon. My mouth craves another! 

Our company on the food tour may have been the best part, and quite possibly why I didn’t get quite as much information about the food. There were six of us and although we communicated in English, Jess and I were the only native speakers. There was our guide, Max, a jovial entertainer. There was Ted, a German who self-retired fairly young after working much too hard and is in his third year traveling the world. He got stuck in Indonesia during COVID. I know, poor thing, right? He had even done the same tree house experience we had done in Laos! Then there was a young woman and her brother-in-law. She was originally from Romania, but living in Amsterdam working on the aesthetics of electric cars. She is about six months in to her year long adventure. Her brother in law, a half-Thai man living in Germany was here to do a big hike with her for a few days, and he and his wife and child are about to move to Bali. We loved hearing all their tales! Conversation flowed easily through the evening and I enjoyed the company even more than the delicious food.

With a little extra time to spare, we visited the largest cemetery in town. It is massive, and well organized, and spotted with beautiful murals. All of the plots are above ground in large walls about 5-6 high and who knows how many long. There were little doors in front with locks on them so that families could bring things for and to honor their loved ones. Some plots (in the middle) were knocked out and emptied. After researching later, what we learned was that people are buried in these for five years, then removed and cremated. There were some very small plots, possibly where some where moved after cremation, but we are not completely certain. We also noticed lots of notice signs on them, and from what we could understand through Google Translate, it was sort of a “your rent is due” notice. In our research, we found that the plots are terribly expensive, and so it is possible that if some families can’t afford the full price, bodies may be cremated sooner.

Our last afternoon was spent with several hours on the aerial cable car. After all, it’s an inexpensive way to spend some time and see the city. We went to the mountain peak, into El Alto and back again and only broke a small sweat when the cars across the city paused for a couple of minutes.

We watched street performers, dogs and children chasing pigeons, and observed people from the steps in the plaza of San Francisco, watching the sunset before heading out on our next adventure.

I’m thankful for the time in La Paz, and the Bolivian people have impressed me so much that I’m incredibly grateful to have a bit more time in this welcoming country.