After a couple years of relative tranquility in Cochabamba, this week the city returned to some of its old ways. On Monday, in response to a meeting of five of the nine prefects in Bolivia (each representing one of the regions here), protestors lined the streets surrounding the main plaza and expressed their disdain for the prefects´resistance to government initiatives that would require these leaders to be more fiscally responsible. While parties on both sides of the debate conveyed their beliefs in the plaza, local police gathered together to control the mob. When the tension reached its breaking point, the law enforcement officers launched tear gas to disperse the crowd. I heard from several people that it was the first time in two years that Cochabamban police had resorted to this tactic.
The restlessness exhibited Monday has carried on throughout the week. With the passage of the new law of land reappropriation (against the vehement disapproval of political parties that oppose the president) on Tuesday night, many civic groups have begun to organize their own form of protest. Tomorrow, a nationwide public transportation stoppage will be in effect. In addition, many private businesses have agreed to close their doors, in response to what they believe to be unauthorized and inappropriate use of power by Evo Morales.
If these complications were not enough already, today there is a city-wide public transportation stoppage in Cochabamba. Initiated by bus drivers, who have a surprising amount of influence in the city and who oppose the development of approximately 80 new routes throught the city (simply put, this means more competition for them), the main roads have been blocked to all traffic. Public transportation stoppages are quite the site in Cochabamba, as the usual clamour of automobiles in the streets is replaced by throngs of people walking or riding bikes. Unfortunately, this morning Pachamama decided to unleash a furious downpour on the city, making the early trek quite undesireable for those who braved the elements (myself included). Luckily, blockades in Cochabamba are not full-proof, and I was able to find a taxi trufi (collective taxi) that would take me to the center of town for three pesos (twice the normal rate, but still less than fifty cents). After weaving around the disgruntled protestors and their blockades for about twenty minutes, we finally escaped to the tranquility of the Prado. As I got out of the taxi, still soaking wet from the morning shower, I laughed at my Cochabamban adventure. Just another day in Bolivia, where nothing is certain and everything is debatable.

As I rapidly approach the completion of my first month here in Bolivia, I thought that it might be appropriate to comment on some of the occurrences to which I have become accustomed. So, here is a list of sixteen aspects of Cochabamban life that have drawn my attention:

1. Receiving inquisitive stares from passengers while riding the public transporation system. Upon boarding a bus, I notice that many Cochabambans will fix their attention on the novelty that is the gringo. Aside from the fact that I am clearly not from Bolivia, when I choose to carry on a conversation in Spanish with a fellow passenger, especially if it concerns life in the U.S., I will surely receive many interested ears. Comically, most of the time these inquisitive listeners will act like they could care less, and then hurredly look away when we make eye contact.

2. Walking on unpaved, rock-filled roads. The vast majority of the streets in Cochabamba are unpaved, and at first it can be quite a challenge to navigate the uneven terrain. However, after continuously tredding upon these obstacles, I no longer have the constant fear of falling flat on my face. In fact, when I feel particularly bold, I will even attempt to read during my daily treks.

3. Avoiding stray dogs or carrying a rock to threaten them. The quantity of roaming canines in the city is appalling, and the probability of crossing paths with one who does not take kindly to strangers is quite high. Thus, it is best to carry at least one stone (two or three if you see a pack of dogs approaching) in hand if you suspect that you might have such an encounter. The old cliché ´´It´s not the size of the dog in the fight but the size of the fight in the dog´´ has particular relevance here. More than once, a small mutt unexpedectly has challenged my bravado, forcing me to use a warning shot (stone) to ward him off.

4. Passing by half-built buildings. Many architectural projects in Cochabamba have become victims of the economic hardship in this country. The ´´guts´´ of these structures are exposed for all to see, a sad ending to numerous well-intentioned projects that could not acquire the funds necessary to finish the job. Perhaps this dilemma also reflects notoriously poor-planning in Bolivian public projects. Frequently initiatives are begun without securing the necessary funds to see the project through to its completion.

5. Taxis honking at you even when you show no interest. If you are waiting on a street corner, whether it be to cross the road or to board one of the myriad ´´micros,´´ you can be sure that more than one taxi will honk to draw your attention. I am not sure if they believe you will be persuaded to board their autos by a persistent beeping sound, or if they merely want you to check out their uniformly-white vehicles. Either way, this act seems to be accentuated by the presence of a gringo waiting on the curb.

6. Never having the right-of-way. It is rumored that Cochabamban driving laws bestow many privileges to pedestrians, but if you assume that these mandates will be followed, you will probably pay for it. Cochabamban drivers, particularly those conducting taxis, take their dominance of the road quite seriously. You will be lucky if they halt at the absurdly few traffic lights. All of this is to say that crossing intersections in the city is an interesting game of Human Frogger (Costanza).

7. Not being able to drink the tap water. Filled with bacteria that will wreak havoc on your digestive system, the Cochabamban drinking water is not fit for outsiders. For this reason, it is always necessary to carry around a bottle of purified water, which may distinguish you as a foreigner, but is certainly more desirable than the effects brought on by invasive parasites.

8. Taking freezing cold or scalding hot showers. To be honest, it is usually a mix of both. However, there is no happy medium with the electrically-heated showerheads in Cochabamba. Finding a comfortable bathing temperature is a talent I have not yet mastered.

9. Seeing extremely-poor indigenous women with their infant children walking the same streets as businessmen in three-piece suits approaching their Ford Expeditions. The disparity between rich and poor is hugely accented in Bolivia. Whereas the middle-class in the U.S. comprises a large portion of the population, here it is almost non-existent. The vast majority of the poor in this country are indigenous, and the disdain that the privileged elite have for them is readily observable in public, both in buses and on the streets.

10. Littering. Not only is it culturally-accepted, but it is also prevalent throughout the city. The streets are covered with all kinds of plastic bags, tissues, dirty socks, wrappers, and worn shoes. You can throw just about anything in the streets (a custom I do not personally partake in), but it you happen to spit on the ground in the presence of others, you most certainly will receive dirty looks. I have not totally figured out this behavior, because, on several occasions, I have witnessed well-dressed, grown men relieving themselves on street corners. However, the scarcity of trashcans may be partly responsible for the unfortunate tendency of Cochabambinos to dispose of their waste in any convenient locatoin. In addition, there is no recycling system apart from the two-liter bottles of Coke you buy from street vendors who require an empty bottle in return for your purchase.

11. Bargaining for everything. It is not rude if done with the proper respect and is certainly necessary for a gringo. Prices for foreigners are at least twice as much, particularly when inquiring about a taxi ride. It is imperative that you and the driver agree on a price before entering the taxi, and even if, upon arriving at your destination, he (all taxi drivers are men) tells you that the distance was much greater than expected and demands a higher rate, you must be resolute and direct in your willingness to pay only the original amount.

12. The slow pace of life. For example, if you agree to meet a Bolivian at 2:00 p.m., it is probable that he or she will not arrive until 3:00 or 4:00 p.m. Tardiness is not considered rude and is extremely prevalent amongst the locals. Movies and Sunday masses are about the only social events at which punctuality is necessary. Everything else mandates a late arrival.

13. Being lost. You are lucky to find street names listed on the corners of most blocks. Those that have them are located almost exclusively in the center of town. If you want to know where you are, the best option is to ask someone who looks like they might live nearby. However, many times they will tell you it is ´´una calle innominada,`` a nameless street.

14. Walking a lot. Especially on Saturday afternoons in the center of town, it is much faster to walk than to take the uncomfortably crowded and slow ´´micros´´ (buses). If you are headed to the huge open-air market known as La Cancha during this time, you will also compete with a great deal of foot traffic. Speaking of La Cancha, this truly is the place to search for everything your heart desires. You literally can find anything you want here, from high-end electronics to llama fetuses (good luck charms when buried under the cornerstone of a newly-built house). For this reason, I now call the Internet the CyberCancha. In addition, La Cancha offers quality products for much lower prices than traditional stores. Why is this so? Nearly all of the goods are contraband in one form or another, which means that they do not come with a receipt or the option of making a return. Thus, it is absolutely necessary to test the functionality of a product before taking it with you.

15. Passing by houses with glass shards that line the outer walls. House robberies are common enough that even the most modest houses have this low-cost crime deterrent. However, after seeing quite a few abodes with this security system, I am convinced that even a mediocre thief could circumvent the sharp obstacles. Guard dogs are a different story. On several occasions, I have nearly been bitten by canines who felt that I was walking a little too close to their territory. It is best simply to run from these dogs, as they are not easily threatened by stones. Eventually, they will stop chasing you. And in the case that a dog jumps on but does not bite you in the presence of its owner, do not expect an apology. In my experience, they will blame you for getting too close.

16. Children begging for money to buy school supplies. When walking in the main plazas of Cochabamba, it is not uncommon for children dressed in shabby clothing to approach you with a list of school supplies and ask for help with the purchases. These are not scams to take advantage of sympathetic tourists. After having several conversations with such children, I have learned that some live with distant relatives hours outside of the city, go to school a couple of times per week, and have to work in the streets the rest of the time. A typical job for these young children (aroud eight-years-old) is shoe shining. They will offer you their services even if you are wearing tennis shoes. But instead of shunning their advances and continuing on my way, I have learned that it can be worthwhile to sit on a bench with them and share a small snack or Coke. They are usually quite hungry and inquisitive about life in the States.

And thus concludes a highlight of some of my experiences in Cochabamba, the breadbasket of Bolivia. With its many interesting wrinkles and personalities, this city provides lasting memories for its visitors. Life here is anything but mundane, and the possibility of the unexpected is part of the charming adventure.

Last week, I had the opportunity to take seven of the older boys of the Villa on a rare outing in Cochabamba. The occasion was a Bolivian-produced movie called ¿Quién mató la llamita blanca? (Who Killed the White Baby Llama?). As you might imagine, the industry of Bolivian filmmaking is almost nonexistent and is comprised of a handful of directors, producers, and actors who make movies for the love of the art and not for the monetary gains reaped from their labors. Although clearly low-budget, this film provided a comedic insight into the nuances of Bolivian culture, highlighting the adventures of an indigenous couple as they traveled east from the highlands of La Paz to the lowlands of Santa Cruz. Apart from its enjoyable commentary on the idiosyncracies of the many diverse subcultures living in Bolivia, this film also addressed the exploitation and corruption of a country that historically has been marginalized by the rest of the world. All of this is to say that the film taught me a great deal about the manner in which Bolivia arrived at its current state of poverty in the third world.
However, this trip to the cinema also revealed the consciousness and gratitude of the children who accompanied me. Aside from the fact that these seven boys were elated to get the opportunity to leave the Villa for several hours and enjoy themselves in Cochabamba, they also made an effort to be respectful of the situation at hand. After we had bought the tickets for the show, we went to the concession stand to buy refreshments. When I told them that we could spend thirty bolivians (slightly less than four dollars) on whatever they wanted, Santiago, the most mature youngster in the Villa, told me that we should not spend that much. I told him that it was okay, we were having a night out and the Villa would pay for it. But he told me that we should only get a few drinks and popcorn and share them. Sure enough, the other children followed suite and insisted that we only spend half of the alloted money. Amazed at their maturity, I agreed that we would share three small cokes and two small popcorns between us and save the rest of the money. As we walked into the theater, I realized that at Santiago´s age, 13, I never would have considered such an act of humility. When we sat down in our assigned seats (such is the etiquette in Bolivian movie theaters), the children readily provided me with my own Coke and napkin full of popcorn. I told them that I wanted to share the Coke with everyone else, but they would not hear of it. Not a single child was willing to share with me. Truly, I tell you, I was wholly amazed at their generosity.
After the movie, we congregated in the lobby, and each one of the children thanked me for the experience. As in America, Bolivian movie theater lobbies are littered with videogames, and like many American children, these boys test their skills in the arcade. When they asked me if they could play for a few minutes, I told them that I did not think we had enough money (assuming that videogame prices would be comparable to those in the States, fifty cents per game). However, when they requested only one boliviano a person, I could not say no. As I doled out the seven pesos (totaling less than one dollar), these boys jumped in delight, and you would have thought that I had given them a new XBox or Playstation. Surprisingly, they were quite talented at the games they played, and those seven pesos lasted close to half an hour.
On the ride home (eight people crammed into a ridiculously small taxi), the boys continued to thank me for taking them to the theater. I told them that it was my pleasure and that I hoped to do it again soon. Who would have thought that a simple trip to the movies could bring so much joy to several young boys´lives?

This week marked the celebration a centuries-old tradition in Bolivia, and many other parts of Latin America, known as La Fiesta de Todos Santos. Beginning at noon on November 1st and lasting until noon on November 2nd, this celebration is dedicated to the souls of the recently departed. La Fiesta de Todos Santos originated during the time of the Spanish conquest of Latin America and was used by the indigenous inhabitants as a way to combat the imposition of Spanish religion upon traditional practices. In order to honor and welcome the spirits of friends during these sacred days, family members, and other loved ones, Bolivians prepare tables of various offerings. Each offering holds a specific significance for the soul to be welcomed and usually reflects something that the departed enjoyed in life. Pictures, cigars, fruits, sweets, chicas (typical Andean beverage that may or may not contain alcohol), and plates of food are common offerings. However, no table is complete without the requisite ´´masas de pan.´´ These creations of bread from large masses of dough take many forms. The most popular is the T´antawawa, a Quechua word for bread baby. These babies represent the figure of a departed loved one and are often adorned with colorful faces. Another typical form is the ladder, which is often placed in the rear of the table and serves as a way for the soul to descend from the heavens and return upon the completion of the celebration.
In the Villa, we prepared for Todos Santos by making hundreds of T´antawawas, ladders, crosses, horses, llamas, stars, suns, etc. in our very own ´´panadería.´´ Children and mamás from all seven houses spent Tuesday afternoon molding the enormous quantity of dough into all kinds of creative forms. I tried my hand at this surprisingly difficult task (six-year-old children were putting my moldings to shame, compare our work in the photos) and managed to form several resemblences of stars, suns, moons, and hearts. All together, this project took around twelve hours, and when I retired from my labor after dinner and went to relax in my room, I could still hear the mamás working diligently (until around midnight).
Although I would find out the next day that most of my forms had either burned or come detached while in the oven, I was encouraged by the dedication and reflection of both the children and mamás during this sacred celebration. In the process of making the bread figures, I heard children and mamás talking about who a specific T´antawawa represented and what that person enjoyed doing in life. For me, La Fiesta de Todos Santos was a welcome alternative to the American tradition of Halloween. In place of Halloween´s bestowal of pounds of candy to costumed children, Todos Santos gives family members and friends the opportunity to honor the memory of loved ones. In the States, I have encountered few celebrations that have the level of thoughtfulness and preparation that can be found in Todos Santos in Bolivia.
That being said, I will digress for a minute from this fascinating tradition to discuss the unfortunate influence of our American celebration of Halloween on Bolivian culture. In the past few years, as I am told, Halloween has become increasingly popular amongst the Bolivian middle and upper classes. In an attempt to separate themselves from the archaic and ridiculous custom of Todos Santos, these privileged elite adorn their children in elaborate costumes (the disguise from the movie ´´Scream´´ is quite popular) and convene in a central location. That location in Cochabamba just so happens to be in the center of the city in an icon of American influence: Burger King. As I passed by the BK on Tuesday afternoon, I was astonished to see the mass of children pouring out of the entrance and running around to the drive-thru to play games with a clown who was calling out trivia from a microphone (´´What color is the sky? You`re right, it´s blue. Here´s a piece of candy.´´) I couldn´t help but feel sorry for these children, who would probably never partake in the symbolic tradition of their own country. Like many of us, they probably believe that the last day in October is an excuse to fill their stomachs with chocolates.
Returning briefly to the tradition of Todos Santos, the celebration concludes on November 2nd at noon, a time at which many Cochabambinos can be found at the only public cemetary. It is customary to go and place flowers in front of the tombstones (which are stacked on top of one another, grass plots are only found in private cemetaries) of loved ones who have died in the past year. After the first year, most families stay at home and pray over the offerings they have brought to the table. Also at this time, neighbors and friends are invited to the house to take an offering from the table and pray for one of the departed. In this manner, all of the offerings are eventually taken from the table and consumed. The souls of the departed are then ushered back to the heavens until the following year. Interestingly, this act sometimes involves costumed ´´spirits´´ that are gingerly beaten by indigenous Quechua women. And thus concludes the ceremony of Todos Santos, a lasting reminder of our interconnectedness with the spirits of the deceased.