A huge part of Carnival is water – there are kids everywhere with water guns, water balloons, and spray foam that are attacking each other and everyone else on the street. Once we decided that we had been blasted by too many times by one group of boys, we needed to get some sort of defence. We each bought a $1.50 can of spray foam and ambushed them! Up to that point, most kids were after each other but once we were involved they all joined forces. We raced up all around the square, chased by screaming kids – I think every kid in town was after us!
Our foam cans ran out and we were left standing with our hands in the air, soaking wet and covered in foam. The kids were laughing wildly (still spraying) and the adults were pointing and giggling.
It was good fun, but made going out anytime afterwards a wet event – of course they would all recognize the only two gringas in town!
-Jodie
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Across the Salar
It was a big disappointment, but one that we were prepared for. Like everyone we asked had told us, there was too much water on the salt flats to ride our bikes across it, but our optimism told us that we had to see for ourselves. So we left Salinas with our fingers crossed and enough food and water to get us to Uyuni. 35 kms of the roughest road we've seen so far (we had to push our bikes DOWN hills because of all the loose rock!) brought us to the Salar's edge, where we met a truck completely caked in salt, whose driver told us about the "harto agua" and gave us a ride back to Salinas.
We waited through the last day of Carnaval until things started to move again, then loaded our bikes onto the roof of a big old bus that would take us to Uyuni. We asked the driver if we could ride on the roof rack with all of the luggage to get a better view of the Salar and once we were settled in, away we went. They had to bombstart the bus and even once it was running, it chugged so badly over bumps and up hills that we wondered if it could actually make the journey.
What we expected to be a 3 hour trip turned into an 8 hour journey. When we finally hit the town on the edge of the Salar, we laughed that we could have ridden our bikes the same distance in less time. It seemed like every person we passed on the road would wave the bus down just to chat with someone on board.
But at last we were on the Salar, and it was every bit as amazing as pictures and stories make it out to be. Where it was covered in water, the sky and clouds were reflected so perfectly that it was hard to tell which was which. Beyond the water, when we were driving over solid salt, we felt like we were on a huge frozen lake except that it was nearly 30 degrees out. The bus stopped for a pee break in the middle of the salar and we took the chance to run and jump and do cartwheels on the salt before crawling back onto the roof.
It was just like our own personal tour of the salar and quite a bargain for only $4 each!!
-Christine
We waited through the last day of Carnaval until things started to move again, then loaded our bikes onto the roof of a big old bus that would take us to Uyuni. We asked the driver if we could ride on the roof rack with all of the luggage to get a better view of the Salar and once we were settled in, away we went. They had to bombstart the bus and even once it was running, it chugged so badly over bumps and up hills that we wondered if it could actually make the journey.
What we expected to be a 3 hour trip turned into an 8 hour journey. When we finally hit the town on the edge of the Salar, we laughed that we could have ridden our bikes the same distance in less time. It seemed like every person we passed on the road would wave the bus down just to chat with someone on board.
But at last we were on the Salar, and it was every bit as amazing as pictures and stories make it out to be. Where it was covered in water, the sky and clouds were reflected so perfectly that it was hard to tell which was which. Beyond the water, when we were driving over solid salt, we felt like we were on a huge frozen lake except that it was nearly 30 degrees out. The bus stopped for a pee break in the middle of the salar and we took the chance to run and jump and do cartwheels on the salt before crawling back onto the roof.
It was just like our own personal tour of the salar and quite a bargain for only $4 each!!
-Christine
One River = One Beer
They started small and were a bit of a novelty… but got deeper and softer way too quick! The first one was ok and you could even ride through it. The last was up to my bellybutton with very sticky mud along the bottom… and the Bobs weighed about 65 or 70 pounds. That river was at the end of a huge mud flat that seemed to have a creek or river every few minutes. We made it 10km in 3 hours! Somehow the water was not as much fun anymore! That is, until we decided that we would drink one beer for every river that we had to ford (and a shot for every flat).
One river was super soft on the bottom, and after crossing it we couldn’t figure out how a vehicle would ever make it through when a little truck pulled up with six guys in the back. They said hi, shook our hands and went to work. They tramped back and forth with lots of yelling and hand waving until they had packed two tracks in the soft river bottom, then marked them with willow branches. The driver took a huge run at it and all of the men jumped out of the way as he splashed on by. They then chased him, ready to push. Yup, cleared it! Who needs a bridge?
But a modern bridge we did find! From our map, we knew we had at least one more river to cross and we joked that it would likely be swimming water from the way things had been going. We came around the corner and we couldn’t believe our eyes - a brand new fancy bridge! We decided that it was ok to give up one beer and took it with a smile…
-Jodie
One river was super soft on the bottom, and after crossing it we couldn’t figure out how a vehicle would ever make it through when a little truck pulled up with six guys in the back. They said hi, shook our hands and went to work. They tramped back and forth with lots of yelling and hand waving until they had packed two tracks in the soft river bottom, then marked them with willow branches. The driver took a huge run at it and all of the men jumped out of the way as he splashed on by. They then chased him, ready to push. Yup, cleared it! Who needs a bridge?
But a modern bridge we did find! From our map, we knew we had at least one more river to cross and we joked that it would likely be swimming water from the way things had been going. We came around the corner and we couldn’t believe our eyes - a brand new fancy bridge! We decided that it was ok to give up one beer and took it with a smile…
-Jodie
"No, today they are dancing!"
That was why no stores were open as we tried to find food and water for our ride. And why, when we realized that we couldn't cross the salt flats, we had to spend two more nights in Salinas de Garci-Mendoza before a single vehicle left for Uyuni.
Carnaval brought the otherwise sleepy little town of Salinas to a near riotous state for three full days and nights. Busses, tractors and motorcycles were covered with colorful garland, and tables out front of each were full of empty beer bottles, while those nearby were pulling new ones from tall piles of crates. Men and women, their traditional dress completemented by streamers and party hats, danced wildly to a marching band that played the same song over and over for 3 full days as it followed the dancers through the streets and around the plaza. Two litre jugs of 'potable alcohol' (which looked and tasted like coolant) were everywhere and women tried quite agressively to force it on us. Kids played with water balloon, squirt guns and spray foam (for which we apparently made pretty good targets), while adults threw confetti at onlookers. There was even a poor llama caught up in all the excitement and completely covered in confetti!
As we wandered through town looking for food and water, we were swept into the passing parade by a tiny little old woman who looked to be about 70 but who muckled onto both of us and swung us around with the strength of a man half her age. She whirled us and twirled us all the way to a backyard party where a large group of partiers were surprised to see two gringos among them and increased their efforts and forcing us to drink their poison (we tried it, but I swear more than two shots would have blinded me).
We watched most of the festivities from the doorway of our hostel, where we felt safe from the fire crackers and rockets that were going off all over the place, and from the watergun and balloon wielding kids.
The stamina of the musicians and dancers was impressive, and far outlasted our own as spectators. For three days and nights they drank (more than I think I've ever seen anyone drink and still stay standing!) and danced (until the average mortals legs would have fallen off!) and played music (always the same song, and always out of tune). On the last night, the festivities lasted until 5am! Or so Jodie tells me, I managed to sleep like a rock...
Ah Carnaval - the wildest party ever!
-Christine
Carnaval brought the otherwise sleepy little town of Salinas to a near riotous state for three full days and nights. Busses, tractors and motorcycles were covered with colorful garland, and tables out front of each were full of empty beer bottles, while those nearby were pulling new ones from tall piles of crates. Men and women, their traditional dress completemented by streamers and party hats, danced wildly to a marching band that played the same song over and over for 3 full days as it followed the dancers through the streets and around the plaza. Two litre jugs of 'potable alcohol' (which looked and tasted like coolant) were everywhere and women tried quite agressively to force it on us. Kids played with water balloon, squirt guns and spray foam (for which we apparently made pretty good targets), while adults threw confetti at onlookers. There was even a poor llama caught up in all the excitement and completely covered in confetti!
As we wandered through town looking for food and water, we were swept into the passing parade by a tiny little old woman who looked to be about 70 but who muckled onto both of us and swung us around with the strength of a man half her age. She whirled us and twirled us all the way to a backyard party where a large group of partiers were surprised to see two gringos among them and increased their efforts and forcing us to drink their poison (we tried it, but I swear more than two shots would have blinded me).
We watched most of the festivities from the doorway of our hostel, where we felt safe from the fire crackers and rockets that were going off all over the place, and from the watergun and balloon wielding kids.
The stamina of the musicians and dancers was impressive, and far outlasted our own as spectators. For three days and nights they drank (more than I think I've ever seen anyone drink and still stay standing!) and danced (until the average mortals legs would have fallen off!) and played music (always the same song, and always out of tune). On the last night, the festivities lasted until 5am! Or so Jodie tells me, I managed to sleep like a rock...
Ah Carnaval - the wildest party ever!
-Christine
550 kilometers of adventure
…and sand, gravel, dirt, grass, washboard, river crossings, mud, “intense animal crossings,” shortcuts, and many Ys in the roads. We have definitely found the roads less travelled and have loved the experience! We had several days when the only traffic was llamas or the occasional bicycle.
These quiet roads resulted in two very, very fat Bobs! Leaving one town we each had 16 litres of water – that is an extra 32+ lbs!!! It definitely took some creativity and coaxing to get them all loaded up and in the trailers in the mornings.
The weather ranged from pouring rain and hail that resulted in raging rivers and creeks to gorgeous hot and sunny days. The stars on the clear nights up on the quiet 3,700m altiplano were absolutely amazing! We never really stayed out to watch them for long though because they were very frosty nights. The wind always picks up in the afternoon and it really is a great way to navigate- as long as it is a headwind, we are going the right way!
One night the wind even had us huddled inside of a mud brick llama corral for a campsite. Believe it or not, a thick layer of llama shit provides quite a comfy sleep. ;)
Sleep was definitely not a problem though; we worked hard to gain those kilometres! We love mountain biking with our skinny tires and Bobs bouncing along behind. A certain number of bumps, washouts and puddles keep us entertained and having fun, but, when we ride only a few meters and then have to get off and push through sand over and over again or hammer ourselves over rough boulders for hours we are not such happy little bikers. There are narrow off road bicycle trails that help us to regain our sanity a little as we race one another alongside the road. Oh, and chasing emus can also add to our riding pleasure…
A huge highlight of reaching Uyuni is the hot shower and the laundry services as there were none to be found over the past 13 days. There was one river that we used for washing. We just had to ignore the llama shit floating by, a reoccurring element in our lives lately. We thought that people gave us funny looks because we were crazy, but maybe it was the smell… Ahhh life is good!
-Jodie
These quiet roads resulted in two very, very fat Bobs! Leaving one town we each had 16 litres of water – that is an extra 32+ lbs!!! It definitely took some creativity and coaxing to get them all loaded up and in the trailers in the mornings.
The weather ranged from pouring rain and hail that resulted in raging rivers and creeks to gorgeous hot and sunny days. The stars on the clear nights up on the quiet 3,700m altiplano were absolutely amazing! We never really stayed out to watch them for long though because they were very frosty nights. The wind always picks up in the afternoon and it really is a great way to navigate- as long as it is a headwind, we are going the right way!
One night the wind even had us huddled inside of a mud brick llama corral for a campsite. Believe it or not, a thick layer of llama shit provides quite a comfy sleep. ;)
Sleep was definitely not a problem though; we worked hard to gain those kilometres! We love mountain biking with our skinny tires and Bobs bouncing along behind. A certain number of bumps, washouts and puddles keep us entertained and having fun, but, when we ride only a few meters and then have to get off and push through sand over and over again or hammer ourselves over rough boulders for hours we are not such happy little bikers. There are narrow off road bicycle trails that help us to regain our sanity a little as we race one another alongside the road. Oh, and chasing emus can also add to our riding pleasure…
A huge highlight of reaching Uyuni is the hot shower and the laundry services as there were none to be found over the past 13 days. There was one river that we used for washing. We just had to ignore the llama shit floating by, a reoccurring element in our lives lately. We thought that people gave us funny looks because we were crazy, but maybe it was the smell… Ahhh life is good!
-Jodie
From the development studies student....
Travelling by bike allows you the opportunity to see more than just the pretty side of a country, full of pizza parlours, tour agencies and hotels boasting hot showers and free breakfasts. These touristly areas are always a welcome respite when we get to them....we love the chance to speak our own language, and pizza and cold beer taste delicious after countless meals of pasta and carrots.
But the reason that we love riding is that it lets fully experience a place and its people. Here are some observations from rural Bolivia (and in case anyone with an IDS background is watching, these are not generalizations, simply observatons and I fully understand that my views are tainted by the fact that I'm both female and a foreigner):
- As we rode further away from main roads and highways, the small dots on our maps representing towns began to mean less. Small towns were terribly run down and we would often believe that they were completely abandonned until we'd cross paths with a lone inhabitant at the far end of town. Cemented basketball courts are cracking with weeds and have bent, rusted hoops and many homes have been gutted and are left without roofs or doors. There are no schools, offices or stores. The road through town always passes by the main plaza and church, and although these were in awful disrepair, it was obvious that they were once beautiful and had been buzzing with life. Then along came the highway, and with it came industry and opportunity in the cities and slowly these wonderful little villages emptied and were left to ruin. Its a stark and sad result of modernization in Bolivia.
- I read just today that the poverty rate (not sure by what standard) is around 70% in Bolivia. There is a notable lack of money in many rural places, but it's a different sort of poverty. No one here appears to be going hungry. The ground is fertile and the livestock are fat and plentiful. Homes are made of local materials (mudbricks, stones or salt blocks), and yards are large and generally well kept, often with flower beds out front. Kids are at least educated enough to know to say "Hello, how are you?" to gringos and all that we asked went to school. The people that we've met have all seemed healthy and content despite their lack of money, begging the question of whether income is really the best indicator of poverty. Still, the growing importance of money to the people is obvious. They love to ask the cost of our bikes, our plane tickets to get here, and how much I plan to sell the scarf that I'm knitting for. These questions are definitely uncomfortable ones to deal with and we try our best to avoid them, though they seem to be asked out of genuine interest and not bad intentions.
- From our pictures, I'm sure you've noticed the beauty of the native women here, in their large, bright skirts, colorful backpacks and bowler hats. Most women older than 30 or so dress in their traditional (if imposed by colonialists) dress on a daily basis. Those who work as laborers in the public sector are even issued yellow coverall dresses to work in! Men on the other hand, dress in plain dress pants and shirts, and the only time that we've seen them in their traditional dress is during festivals. As is the case in many cultures, it seems that women in Bolivia are the carriers of culture.
That's all I got....wouldn't McGill be pround of the worldly little graduate they produced (or would they rather I get a real job!?)
-Christine
But the reason that we love riding is that it lets fully experience a place and its people. Here are some observations from rural Bolivia (and in case anyone with an IDS background is watching, these are not generalizations, simply observatons and I fully understand that my views are tainted by the fact that I'm both female and a foreigner):
- As we rode further away from main roads and highways, the small dots on our maps representing towns began to mean less. Small towns were terribly run down and we would often believe that they were completely abandonned until we'd cross paths with a lone inhabitant at the far end of town. Cemented basketball courts are cracking with weeds and have bent, rusted hoops and many homes have been gutted and are left without roofs or doors. There are no schools, offices or stores. The road through town always passes by the main plaza and church, and although these were in awful disrepair, it was obvious that they were once beautiful and had been buzzing with life. Then along came the highway, and with it came industry and opportunity in the cities and slowly these wonderful little villages emptied and were left to ruin. Its a stark and sad result of modernization in Bolivia.
- I read just today that the poverty rate (not sure by what standard) is around 70% in Bolivia. There is a notable lack of money in many rural places, but it's a different sort of poverty. No one here appears to be going hungry. The ground is fertile and the livestock are fat and plentiful. Homes are made of local materials (mudbricks, stones or salt blocks), and yards are large and generally well kept, often with flower beds out front. Kids are at least educated enough to know to say "Hello, how are you?" to gringos and all that we asked went to school. The people that we've met have all seemed healthy and content despite their lack of money, begging the question of whether income is really the best indicator of poverty. Still, the growing importance of money to the people is obvious. They love to ask the cost of our bikes, our plane tickets to get here, and how much I plan to sell the scarf that I'm knitting for. These questions are definitely uncomfortable ones to deal with and we try our best to avoid them, though they seem to be asked out of genuine interest and not bad intentions.
- From our pictures, I'm sure you've noticed the beauty of the native women here, in their large, bright skirts, colorful backpacks and bowler hats. Most women older than 30 or so dress in their traditional (if imposed by colonialists) dress on a daily basis. Those who work as laborers in the public sector are even issued yellow coverall dresses to work in! Men on the other hand, dress in plain dress pants and shirts, and the only time that we've seen them in their traditional dress is during festivals. As is the case in many cultures, it seems that women in Bolivia are the carriers of culture.
That's all I got....wouldn't McGill be pround of the worldly little graduate they produced (or would they rather I get a real job!?)
-Christine
Saturday, February 10, 2007
And we're off!
Across the Bolivian Altiplano. If you can get your hands on a map of Bolivia, we're heading west from La Paz to Sajama National Park, then southeast from there in as straight a line as we can find to Uyuni and the salt flats (which we hear may actually be ride-able now!). We plan to be going through some pretty remote places and travelling some pretty rough roads between here and there and expect that the next time we see a computer will be in about 2 weeks time. So the blog may be quiet for a spell, but then I'm sure we'll have many adventures to share...
Thursday, February 08, 2007
Biking the backroads
You know the road is rough when you have to go just as slowly down the hils as up....and when your odometer actually reads zero at times (we didn't realize that you could actually balance a bike at less than 4kph)!
That's what riding the backroads around Lake Titikaka is like - miles and miles of the roughest road that I've ever seen (actually less a road than a sandbox slash rock garden). It was impossibly steep in sections, so that we spent quite a lot of time pushing. Also repaired quite a few flat tires and retightened a lot of screws that had come loose (and lost a few, too).
After bumping and rattling along for 3 days, our shoulders and arms were more sore than our legs (though our whole bodies were exhausted). Still, though (and does this mean we're suckers for punishment?), we've opted for 700 more kms of dirt before we leave this crazy country!
Christine
That's what riding the backroads around Lake Titikaka is like - miles and miles of the roughest road that I've ever seen (actually less a road than a sandbox slash rock garden). It was impossibly steep in sections, so that we spent quite a lot of time pushing. Also repaired quite a few flat tires and retightened a lot of screws that had come loose (and lost a few, too).
After bumping and rattling along for 3 days, our shoulders and arms were more sore than our legs (though our whole bodies were exhausted). Still, though (and does this mean we're suckers for punishment?), we've opted for 700 more kms of dirt before we leave this crazy country!
Christine
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
"Gringo! Gringo!" and other everyday interactions
- We can hear them before we can see them. Little kids tending livestock far out in a field yelling, "Gringo! Hola gringo!" from so far away that we don't know how they can tell what color we are.
- A man herding his sheep down the road stops us to ask where we are from and shakes both of our hands and wishes us well in our travels.
- Enrique, a man from the north end of Lake Titikaka, runs back to his house, way up on a hill to get his camera so that he can take our picture. He explains that he is trying to get tourism started in his community (it's so beautiful, it deserves it) and plans on doing his own bike tour around the lake in the fall to promote it.
- Riding into a village at the end of the day, a woman stops us and says, "Congratulations! I saw you in another village! I came here by car and you rode your bikes! Congratulations!"
- We cross paths several times with a van full of people on their way to a fiesta in Moho. Part way up a big hill, we find them stopped by the side of the road. A woman from the group comes running up to us and gives us a bag of cheese to snack on. Meanwhile, 2 men with video cameras have them running and aimed at us, while another asks where we are from and where we're headed.
- On the way up an even bigger hill, we pass a group of construction workers. One runs up behind Jodie and pushes her for a few hundred meters while they all cheer us on.
- Men hawking their fruits and vegetables over a loudspeaker on the side of the road stop mid-word as we pass to say, "Hola Gringas!"
- A group of school kids on the side of the road, yell "Good morning, teacher!" to us - likely the only English words they know.
- When we stop for water in a small town, a group of kids surrounds us and asks all kids of questions about us, our trip and our bikes. They wonder if we stop to sleep at night or ride around the clock. I'm dying to tell them that gringos don't actually need sleep, but I'm not sure how the joke would go over with the adults in the background.
- A man rides towards us on his bicycle, trying hard to mind his own business and ignore us, but when he sees us smile at him and hears us say hello, he breaks into a huge grin and laughs as he says hello back.
These are honestly just a few of the interactions that we've had with people as we travelled around Lake Titikaka. The further off the beaten path we go, the friendlier and more interested people seem to be. The scenery was pretty spectacular, too, but the people are really what make riding around here so rewarding!
Christine
- A man herding his sheep down the road stops us to ask where we are from and shakes both of our hands and wishes us well in our travels.
- Enrique, a man from the north end of Lake Titikaka, runs back to his house, way up on a hill to get his camera so that he can take our picture. He explains that he is trying to get tourism started in his community (it's so beautiful, it deserves it) and plans on doing his own bike tour around the lake in the fall to promote it.
- Riding into a village at the end of the day, a woman stops us and says, "Congratulations! I saw you in another village! I came here by car and you rode your bikes! Congratulations!"
- We cross paths several times with a van full of people on their way to a fiesta in Moho. Part way up a big hill, we find them stopped by the side of the road. A woman from the group comes running up to us and gives us a bag of cheese to snack on. Meanwhile, 2 men with video cameras have them running and aimed at us, while another asks where we are from and where we're headed.
- On the way up an even bigger hill, we pass a group of construction workers. One runs up behind Jodie and pushes her for a few hundred meters while they all cheer us on.
- Men hawking their fruits and vegetables over a loudspeaker on the side of the road stop mid-word as we pass to say, "Hola Gringas!"
- A group of school kids on the side of the road, yell "Good morning, teacher!" to us - likely the only English words they know.
- When we stop for water in a small town, a group of kids surrounds us and asks all kids of questions about us, our trip and our bikes. They wonder if we stop to sleep at night or ride around the clock. I'm dying to tell them that gringos don't actually need sleep, but I'm not sure how the joke would go over with the adults in the background.
- A man rides towards us on his bicycle, trying hard to mind his own business and ignore us, but when he sees us smile at him and hears us say hello, he breaks into a huge grin and laughs as he says hello back.
These are honestly just a few of the interactions that we've had with people as we travelled around Lake Titikaka. The further off the beaten path we go, the friendlier and more interested people seem to be. The scenery was pretty spectacular, too, but the people are really what make riding around here so rewarding!
Christine
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