i have the black lung. and i ate llama. and bach´s in bolivia

It´s been a while, eh? I apologize. Let me catch you up on all the excitement.

This past weekend was quite a journey. The group went to Sucre and Potosi, both cities in Bolivia. Thursday after class we walked to the bus station and hopped on a semi-coma overnight to Sucre. Now, don´t be fooled. ¨semi coma¨does just about anything but put you in a semi-coma. However, the seats do go back farther than normal. :) After a 11 hour ride (it´s not that far, the roads are just that bad. Cobblestone at parts, on the main highway) during which I slept maybe 4 hours, we arrived in Sucre at 7 am and got some breakfast to start our day. After that we had a brief tour of a museum during which I saw many portraits of Bolivian presidents and met some very kind gringos. The tour was interesting, not so much because of what the guy was saying in broken english, but because as he was talking about some revolution of the Bolivian people in the 50s, there was dynomite going of in the street outside as part of a protest of the new constitution that was illegally drafted. I tell you what, the politics here are much more exciting than any ¨nail biter¨over Texas primaries. After the tour, we grabbed lunch and a brief siesta. Then we went to a monastary that is now a Catholic church. After giving the headmistress 10 Bolivianos, she gave us the key to the roof and we were allowed to stay there as long as we wished. I tell you, the view that those monks had to meditate on was astounding. The whole of the city of Sucre laid out before them. And for us, it seemed as though God had placed the clouds there just to make our pictures perfect. :)
The next day we took taxis to Potosi, which was 3.5 hours by bus and supposed to be shorter by taxi. I´m sure it would have been if Nick had not needed to nudge our driver quite frequently to keep him awake in the curvy mountian roads... But regardless, we got there safely, 3.5 hours later. Potosi is one of the highest cities in the world, and the altitude makes you feel like you´re on some kind of drug. And super out of shape. I was panting after caring my bookbag on the stroll to the hostel (¨companero de Jesus¨ - friend of Jesus). I had llama that day. It´s like a tender steak. Yummy.
The next day we went on a tour of the Minting Museum they have in Potosi (La Casa de Moneda) which used to mint most of the world´s money. It was informative, although you could tell that the guide had simply memorized the tour in English, so questions were out of the script. But later that day, I did one of the neatest things in my life thus far. We hired an ex-miner, suited up like a village person (dont worry, pictures to come), and headed into the Cerro Rico, or Rich Hill, of Potosi, out of which came 80% of the silver from the Western Hemisphere. This mine was discovered by a lllama herder, and became the curse of the people of Potosi, as the Spanish arrived and forced work in terrible conditions while sending all the silver back to Europe. But people still mine here, mostly tin and zinc. We spent 3 hours in the mine, and learned of the lives of miners. It´s tough man, let me tell you. They spend usually 12 hours, but up to 48 if they strike a good vein, in the dark. And while they are in there, they only drink beer and chew coca leaves, which supress hunger, thirst, and sleep. It was quite astounding, and I regret that I cannot give you a better idea of what it was like. But this tour was quite physically demanding, as the simple act of walking in the mine, which was not well-ventillated, at an altitude that is already tough on these South Carolina lungs, raised my heart to aerobic levels.

After this great weekend, we hop on a bus again, Sunday night, complete exhausted. This semi-coma was less coma like. In fact, I had 3 children next to me, one a baby. Yah, that was a fun 11 hour bus ride. :) But as we stumbled out of the station at 6:30 Monday morning, realizing I had class at 10 and still had homework for that afternoon, I knew it was more than worth it. What a great weekend.

Our empleyada (spelling is wrong, but i´m pretty sure you don´t know how to spell it either) left. She´s the one who did all the things my mom said I needed to remember to do. Clean up after myself, fold my clothes, iron my underwear (mom didn´t tell me to do that, but Ofe did it), make my bed, wash my dishes. Haha, sorry mom. But I guess now I get to prove my self-sufficiency, perhaps. But it is truly intriguing at how dependent the families here are on such services. My family was truly distressed at how we would get through the week. I volunteered my help in what ways I could. But I´m glad mom taught me how to fold my own underwear. :)

I must head off to lunch, soon, but let me tell you about yesterday. Just a view of one of mycrazy-busy days, and perhaps an acceptable excuse as to why I haven´t been writing more. I go to class, as usual. Thursdays, I only have 1 2 hour class in the afternoon, rather than 2. But during class yesterday, there was a protest going on downtown. So we took a ¨field trip¨of sorts to the city square to watch men and women bang on pots, carry signs I could somewhat understand, and march in protest to the sudden inflation of food prices. The women were banging on pots to symbolize their emptiness because they could not afford food. It is so fascinating that we can truly read about a problem facing Bolivians in a book on Wednesday night, then go to class Thursday and have a demonstration of the reactions of the Bolivians to that problem (that was not planned by our teacher.) It´s so alive here.
Then, after ¨class¨(there was some discussion) we grabbed a drink and went to a Bach concert. I was quite stoked about classical music in Latin America. It was a free concert in the Palace of a rich man (the guy who owned the mine in Potosi, in fact). It was small chamber music, and the players were quite decent, but what astounded me was the audience. There were hundreds of people there, and not nearly enough room, so these Bolivians, from the old man in his suit from work to the native woman to the punk high school kid were willing to stand for over an hour and half to hear this music from some gringo years ago. Music is so powerful. :)
After the concert, I went to the birthday party of the ¨brother¨ of Matteo, one of my fellow students here. I tell you what, the Bolivians know how to throw a party. All they need are good friends, large quantities of alcohol (consumed mainly by 3 or so men at the party), good music (that all sounds quite similar), and a large open space for dancing. It was fun, and I didn´t get home until an appropriate Bolivian time. :) Let´s just say that the birds were singing as I went to bed this morning.

I hope you´re enjoying my blog. I appreciate the readership, and that (I assume) you´re curious about what´s happening with me down here. I miss home, but know I am thoroughly enjoying myself here, and learning quite a few things as well. :)

Until later...