Everyday culture, limited language understanding, and equally limited knowledge of the city play a huge role in my daily plans. Yesterday, in particular, was a perfect example of how confusing / frustrating life is here.
To begin Friday was a city wide holiday, Dia de Cochabamba. The majority of people take the day off to celebrate with there families, eat local food, go to
parades or attend other events. My host family had made plans for the
Feriada, and I managed to extract the vital information of when we might leave
the house in the morning. In true Bolivian fashion, we left a half hour
"late" and with me not knowing not the destination. My understanding of the day from earlier inquiries was
that my host Mom had to be at a meeting all day, and the rest of us would go to
some location with food and swimming. As I had made plans for a language
class in the early afternoon, I told my family I needed to be back on
the North side of town by 12:30. They said no problem, so I tagged along
still not sure how far we would go out of town for this adventure.
Instead we went to the heart of downtown to a plaza called the 14 de
Septembre. The plaza was surrounded by army personnel and native clothed
persons and was arranged for a press conference with local dignitaries.
We watched as the president, catholic preist, and native representatives
gave their speeches, songs and ritual blessings to celebrate the day.
Then we sat near the central fountain as Avril, age 5, fed and chased
pigeons. For lunch we went to a nearby restaurant for elaborate ice
cream and for me salad! (I have a food allergy to dairy.) Somehow in
conversation over lunch we then decided to go get hair cuts. So, we
travelled to the heart of "La Concha" -a large open air shopping market. In fact, it might be the largest black
market in S. America.
Fearfully, I pointed at pictures of how I wanted
my hair cut and held my breath as the hairdresser grimaced combing my
curly hair. 30 mins later my straightened blond hair was picture perfect
and I happily paid 25Bs (less that $4) for my new do. Now 12:45, I was
going to be late for my meeting. So, I made a quick call to Ely, my friend
apologizing and giving an estimation of my new arrival time. She in
turn said she would call the teacher we were meeting to get clear
directions to her house and inform her of our delay. My family, only
half finished with their hair cuts, said I could catch a trufi (public
transport) to where I needed to go, and explained that I only needed to
walk two blocks to the corner near the flower stands. Ok, no problem.
As
I watched the trufi traffic pass, I was disappointed to not see the
number 106 pass. So, I flagged down a 109 and asked which trufi
number I would need to reach my desired intersection. The kind driver
told me to look for a #1 of #16 micro (a larger public transport bus).
Again, checking information, I asked the driver of the #1 micro, and
thankfully a passenger clarified I would indeed get where I wanted to
go. "Pase" -Come in.
By 2:00pm, I met Ely at the corner of a roud-about
she had been waiting and watching for a #3 trufi to pass by for about
45mins. I had just missed the trufi she said by 2mins. So, we waited another 20mins before the next passing trufi. With rough
instructions in hand to go to the end of the route and to then look for a
church, we climbed north hills. Churches here either look like homes with
a sign saying "iglesia" and no other distinction or are elaborate
catholic buildings. Not knowing the type of church, and anxious to reach
our destination we asked to be let off when I thought I saw a cross
from behind a corner gate. Turns out I was wrong, and only 3/4 the way
up the hill on a new route, we were lost. So, walking down the road we
asked a local construction worker if he knew where the trufi route went.
Thankfully he said we only needed to hike two blocks uphill. When we
had walked three we were greeted by a cross shaped fence of a apartment
looking house and new we had made it close to our destination.
No
worries, only an hour and forty five minutes late we had arrived. Melvy was super
gracious and in Bolivian fashion offered us almuerzo, lunch. We finished
the rest of the afternoon, learning both English and Spanish words,
baking and sharing tea and stories. It was a super relaxing time and
exactly what my heart needed.
However, again because of the holiday we
needed to leave before 5 PM, as not only would there be "drunks" driving
but the public transportation would also quit earlier. -Things all
Bolivians know. Thankfully Melvy escorted both Ely and I to the trufi
corner to negotiate with a group waiting on there to share a taxi
ride/fare down the hill. It was true, there was less traffic when we
reached the bottom of the hill and most trufi's that past were full, but
I still managed to catch a trufi home to Ticipya after only waiting 15
mins on the corner. Woohoo! Success back in time for cena and a movie
(in Spanish) with my host sister.
Yes, living here is always an enthusiastic made plan with many unknown variables and a shot in the dark chance of completion. It is great practice at vulnerability and continually humbling.
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