I ended up spending about three days in Santa Cruz before heading off to Brazil; mainly because I discovered the train was always full (I couldn't buy a ticket in advance) and I had no desire to spend 26 hours on another bumpy bus for $65. So I was looking for other ways to get to Campo Grande, Brazil. I checked with a few travel agencies and discovered there were flights but nothing under $175 - and that was if I bought a round trip ticket with a fee for not returning.
And so I debated what to do. My coworker's cousin offered lunches at her grandmother's house while I was in town. Having had brilliant luck with family-oriented lunches to this point in Bolivia, I happily accepted the invitation. For the next two days I cabbed out to the neighborhood where the family lived where I was presented with multiple course meals - all traditional and delicious. It was odd to see these traditional Bolivian meals served on place mats with sushi prints. Especially with full Spanish conversations going on. But I paid little attention and dug in.
My second afternoon in Santa Cruz I walked around the city to see what there was. The people of the city think themselves more Brazilian than Bolivian; especially with Evo Morales as their new president. There is a lot of resentment against him and the city of La Paz. So much so, I was told, that it is not uncommon for fights to break out between locals and people visiting from La Paz. Just hearing the difference in accents is enough to set some people off. Being no fan of Evo's after having to buy a visa to get in to Bolivia, I was ready to declare my allegiance to the residents adorning themselves with "autonomia" stickers and badges. Santa Cruz is trying, unsuccessfully so far, to win autonomy from La Paz. And hey, if that makes them happy - I'm behind them. Just don't hurt me.
The city's main plaza is in its historic center. Colonial buildings occupied each street and I enjoyed taking it all in - buying water from the people selling bottles from coolers on the corners (two extra Bolivianos for bottles from the cooler!). I ducked inside one of the food markets and found several stands selling the cold fresh fruit drinks with milk at less than 50¢ for a small pitcher. I ordered two - one made from fresh peaches and one from strawberries. The sweating stopped. Until I walked back outside.
Before it got dark I decided I should get back to the travel agency and buy that plane ticket. It occurred to me that I could pay cash for the ticket and they would have no way of tracking me down if I didn't do the return flight. And so I reserved the flight to Brazil for 4am the following night. I made the false reservation to fly back four days later and walked out with my tickets and my receipt for the cash purchase - how brilliant am I?
That night I met the cousin of my coworker's cousin at a bar just down the street from the main plaza. The walk there was enough to have me soaked by the time I arrived, and it took three beers just to cool me down again. That's when everyone decided to call it a night. And so I sweated back to my hotel again where I tried to cool down again under my over-head fan. Tomorrow there were promises of pools...
To see pics from my time in Santa Cruz, follow this link:
http://flickr.com/photos/15233918@N00/sets/72157603952352167/
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment