Well, it's 7:30 and about time to start closing up at my little cafe corner in the YMCA of Summit NJ. But I might as well take advantage of the internet and upload some pics.
Holy moly, that took about 15 seconds, and in Bolivia it takes at least 5 minutes.
This is my surrogate family on calle Ayacucho, dowtown Cochabamba. Antonio is the adorable old man, Orjito the cute little kid and the dog's name is Toby. They are the ones that shamelessly barge into my apartment, look in the windows, call on me through the walls and generally violate my privacy. But I don't mind, it makes me feel more at home.
Below is my Aramasí family in front of our communal home, the Amistad Health Clinic. Only José is missing, I think he was last minute watering.
Above is a prime example of the quality craftsmanship of the altiplano. These are the adobe bricks that are used in every construction out here. Keeps you cool in the heat and warm in the cold.
A happy beneficiary of Amistad's health service in the community of Huayujo. The one in the goofy hat to the left is the head nurse, Freddy.
José is practicing the ch'alla before partaking in some delicious, homemade chicha. The ch'alla is when you spill some of your drink on the ground for the pachamama before you have any. You can see some of the chicha spilling out of the top of the tutuma in José's hand. Lucky shot on my part. The other gents are community leaders Don Dionisio and Don Felix. This was our welcome on arriving from Bombeo by foot. Not bad.
Community meeting on the topic of irrigation and dam water management.
This was on our way down from Bombeo. The reservoir behind the dam was quite a sight after a few hours of sunbleached hills. Bombeo, by the way is the word for pump. The place, Bombeo is called such because it is way high up and an important pipe and road intersection so the traffic and gas and oil all get "pumped" through the spot. It's also the place we hitchhike to before legging it down to Aramasí if there's no ride.
Yes, I did. I had to.
José didn't know how I stayed afloat without being able to touch the bottom. I told him I would swim. And then he asked the same question again. I think we have a misunderstanding about what swimming is. He thought I was going to drown. Ha.
This is what we do for fun in Cocha. This was once a garage, now it's a hang-out for climbers. Free to all, known to few.
Self-portrait outside of Ahuri. I already look forward to being back out there.
The next few blogs will take place in the USA. Maybe not so boring, though.
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