Travels travels

Caitlin wandering lost, and probably dismayed, through the endless white expanse of Salar de Uyuni. Our trip there was far from uneventful. Packed with long hours in the car (23 in 3 days), extreme temperatures, some rowdy Brazilians, outrageous landscapes, broken windshields and running out of gas in the middle of nowhere, it was certainly something to tell the kids about. Freezing and beautiful Salar is not for the faint of heart, even if Caitlin looks pretty chilled out here.
At 16,000 feet, in the frigid cold, with winds whipping about, are hundreds and hundreds of contented looking Flamingos. Totally bizarre. I mean do they know there are a lot of warmer, lusher places they could live? Don't they have cousins in the everglades they can stay with? Anyway, they are majestic and giant birds. Their pink is only outdone by the fact that in one of the lakes (Laguna Colorada) is an even brighter hue than they. It's something out of a demented fairytale, the water, shimmering against red mountains, under viciously blue skies, shifts from a passionate purple to the color of cherry flavoring.
This is Laguna Verde. You can't really tell how green the water is, but with the volcano looming it's an impressive sight. Unfortunately, at negative temperatures, we really only had time to hop out snap a few photos and plunge frantically back into the jeep.
More impressive than pink lakes, salt flats and volcanos, our kitten, Salvador's, growth. He's a monster, and pretty good looking. Caitlin and I have decided he either is posing for a woman's magazine (what a bod) or is some sort of sexy R&B singer. We'll call him Sal D. Either way, he brings the funk. And he's giant.

Overdue Pics

Caitlin and I on the Isla del Sol, Copacabana's main tourist attraction. And, after putting it off for four months, I must say absolutely worth the effort. It's outstandingly beautiful. Clear, almost tropical water with sandy beaches, give way to swooping and dramatic hills. With incredible views of the Cordillera Real (think the Olympics times five) in the background beyond the deep blues of the Lake, it's all really magnificent. We had the pleasure of doing the day tour with my sister and her friends who were visiting. Good times all around.
A shot of some spooky rock formations on the island. And, you know, the mountains too.
In a complete change of scenery, I'm not in the middle of the tundra, though the weather certainly felt like it (-20 celcius!), but rather in the vast salt flats outside of Uyuni. It was a totally mindblowing and disorienting place. Something of a salty moon land. The environment was completely different than anywhere I've ever been previous, or ever will be again. In a word, harsh. Dry, freezing, blindingly white, but somehow mysterious and magical.
On Fish Island in the middle of the salt flats, its a giant coral reef above ground dotted with massive, imposing cactus. Definitely surreal. Definitely the moon.

Top Ten Ridiculous Things About Copacabana...

Caitlin and I live a good fifteen minute walk out of town, which gives me some time to do serious thinking each and everyday. Most of this time is spent brooding over the loss of the Sonics. But yesterday I created a top 10 ridiculous things about Copacabana list, reading it over baffles me, so try and understand...

10. The heaps of 16 year old boys dressed in strict military fatigues who guard the ¨city limits.¨They spend the vast majority of their time cat calling girls and drinking soda, not to mention their all important, and quite serious task, of checking all cars for drugs. Though they are more interested in watching the WWF matches they have on loop in their offices. The Bolivian military, hooray!

9. The three women who neighbor the store, on the main drag of town, all sell the exact same product. Giant, football sized, popcorn called pasankalla. It's kind of like large, stale kettle corn. I hate it. Caitlin likes it. They women hate each other (as you can imagine, competition is stiff) and have a ridiculous rivalry all based in giant popcorn. The drama therein is worthy of its own short story, to be certain.

8. Walter Polma (the town's main drug dealer and owner of I'd say 60% of the lake view real estate) drives a sweet sweet minivan. Guess narco traffickers in Bolivia are not as fancy pantsed as elsewhere.

7. The fact that we live on a giant lake, notorious for its trout (which is, sadly, farmed) and there is absolutely no fishing industry here. Though tourists ask about it daily. Logic is not really en vogue here.

6. There's no ATM (millions lost), but there is a loopy, bar owner named Macarena. She's ten times more lively than the dance.

5. Walking to work at 8:50 on a Monday morning I'm almost certain to pass a group of older men and women sitting on the side of the road, an empty bottle of vodka and beers scattered around them as they sit in a bizarre and uncomfortable silence with one another. Drinking hard before nine on a Monday. And who said people here are lazy? That's serious dedication.

4. The Bolivian Navy. This country is land locked. There's probably not a lot more to say. They don't really know how to row, and don't have any engine propelled boats. Again, the Bolivian Navy. And this is only number four.

3. There is a town tradition of blessing vehicles in front of the church. It's sacred and yada yada, but really it's just pouring beer and champagne on car engines and the seats inside. Guess, if you aren't drinking at nine a.m. you may as well douse your car in alcohol. Just to, you know, get that engine in prime condition.

2. The first week Caitlin and I were here we went into a restaurant for lunch, and the only person in charge (I shit you not) was a child in diapers, who could hardly speak. I would say the vast majority of the shops are run by children 12 and under. I mean, there are a lot of soap operas to watch in a day. You can't expect mothers to be in charge all day, not when there is adequate 2 year olds to do the work for you.

1. This kills me...the children just had a 3 week winter vacation. Acceptable, but a bit ridiculous as the kids here only go to school three or four hours a day at the very very most. But, since no one here really likes to go to school anyway, and since there is plenty of drinking to be done by the teachers, and the kids have restaurants to run, vacation was extended a week. But get this, the reasoning was...wait for it...some mornings there is frost. Yep. Frost. No school on account of frost. (Koreans and Japanese children are weeping) The weather here has not changed more than 2 degrees Fahrenheit since we arrived in March. It may have gone from 41 to 39 on a chilly night, but the days are still t-shirt and shorts ready, with nary a cloud in the sky. Yet, they cancelled school for a week, because of ¨frost¨which may or may not even exist. Ahh Copacabana, working hard at being ridiculous.

Pics

I doubt anyone really looks at this here website as we hardly ever update it at this point, but figured I'd plug in a few more pictures for the curious. This one is the border guard station. Right at the edge of town there are heaps of 16 year old boys in fatigues who check the taxis that come and go from Copacabana. It's at best a farse. The biggest drug dealer in town, who owns the vast majority of property here, has his own private large Mercedes bus that crosses the border (without passengers) and you better believe he has 16 year olds, who work in an office that looks like this, are going for the cash. Anyway. I feel safe.
One side of the street on our walk to work. It's mostly just crumbling half built houses, made of a dark adobe and brick. In the distance is the church and some of the massive, jagged hills that are omnipresent in the distance. To me this is a very indcative picture of middle class existence here...while the following picture...
Is a shot of the money that's flowing in this town. The lake is starting to be ringed by big beautiful (and extremely cheap) hotels such as these two. There are bell boys, restaurants, hot tubs and the like. Pretty nice. At times, when the sun is setting in the distance this look a lot like Monaco or some such wealthy principality to me. With the boats and the lake's gentle waves. If nothing is, this town is in a serious state of flux.
Just more of the walk to work. Nearly everything is stunning in both its beauty and simplicity.
You can't really get a great feel for his size here, but that's Salvador on our bedroom window ledge. He's just a monster. In three weeks he has easily doubled in size. He's quite the goodlooking young Simba, lion creature. Ferocious at times, but mellowing and becoming quite loving of Caitlin and I. You'll also notice in the background that pretty decent view we've got.

Long Overdue...and the family grows

In a stroke of fate that is let's say not surprising Caitlin was gifted a kitten by our ever friendly and muppet voiced landlord, Doña Sofia. Being a Canfield, she was unable to reject the offer. We now have in our room with a view an adorable and incredibly spunky baby boy by the name of Salvador. Or Sal, if you please. Or Simba. He's cute and acts pretty much like you'd expect a month old kitten to behave. Plays like hell. Sleeps. Repeat.
He may look cute but there is deep imbedded lion blood in this creature. He's an athletic freak (moreso by the day) eats more than Caitlin and I combined and is hardly bigger than my hand. His high pitched and somewhat demanding meow is unendingly adorable except when it happens in a pleading attempt at play at 4 in the morning. Otherwise, good stuff.
If you squint you can see the Fair Maiden seated in the corner of the store in Copacabana. It doesn't give you much perspective as to how tiny the place is, but four people in the store and you can tell what everyone else had for lunch. There's Lonely Planets, music, random books in at least 9 languages, compasses, ponchos, backpacks and much more. I don't really know what to say after that.
The "Pay Coo Coo" or Miss Primitiva Quispe Quispe and Caitlin. Primi is first cousins with Yoda.

Internet

So,
The internets aren't working so hot right now. I've got a glut of other pictures I'd like to put up, but for whatever reason it ain't happening today. Instead I'll tell write a little on the racism that plagues Copa.

This town is a very closed off and strange place, where anything less than 5 generations here makes you a foreigner. So under these pretenses the locals stir up a large pot of xenophobia and racism they hurl towards anyone not specifically from Copa. That includes all other Bolivians as well.

They make up vicious rumors and sexually laced stories about the expat population, painting them as lurid drug addicts who do nothing but indulge in indecency. Which couldn't be further from the truth. Most of the foreigners who stay here for an extended period are friendly, helpful and goofy, three words I would never use to describe the local Aymara.

Recently, there was a march, after two local boys were caught stealing license plates, blaming and protesting foreign businesses for the teenaged troublemakers. People streamed the streets chanting ¨Death to Foreigners¨all in response to their own problems. Drunkenesss, alcoholism and abuse are massive problems amongst locals here yet they point the fingers squarely on the dreaded Argentines minding their own business.

Just the other day Caitilin and I repeatedly (twice) went to one woman's stand trying to buy some rice for dinner. She refused to acknowledge us, turned her back and then finally, after we persisted, said the rice was not for sale. We mentioned that she owned and store and it seemed inherently counterintuitive not to want to sell your wares, but alas. Scorn and hatred like this are far too common here. It's discouraging in so far as Caitlin and I were both very excited to involve ourselves heavily in the community, learn aymara, teach, work at the hospital, but with such an icy reception there is no desire to give back.

It does not taint our time here, however. The people who are kind and exceptionally kind and we have a great job and house to bide the time. The surroundings are certainly condusive to creativity and bettering our spanish is a joy. Not to mention the trips and visitors we have to look forward to in the coming months. If anything the divide just furthers the juicy intrigue that lays low over this town like one of the few clouds that hover over the lake.

We have a house

This is the view from the window of our new house! From our bedroom no less. Caitlin and I, after much heartache and deepset racism, found a place to live. It's about a ten minute walk out of town. We pay 40 dollars a month (shared) and live with an Argentine expat named Luciano (Lucho). He's incredibly kind and friendly and has pretty sweet dreads. After loads of people showing us houses with no electricity, no bathroom, broken floors (which they expected us to pay to get fixed!) we stumbled across Lucho's place. Apart from not having a fridge it's a dream come true. If we ever live anywhere with a view like this again, well then we will be doing something right. Not to mention the sunsets....
The living room. Complete with sparse hippie decor and cement floors. But we just made a two day trip to La Paz (running up the massive hillsides) and bought everything we could possibly want to turn the house into our home. With apologies to Luther Vandross. We are done sleeping on the matress made of dried reeds (which the local woman refused to show caitlin unless she promised she was buying the matress and paid first...I promise to post about the out of control xenophobia and racism asap.
Another shot of the view. There's a garden, it's massive, and a three legged dog named Rengo (Limp) just to make Caitlin feel completely at ease. We really couldn't have been luckier. Actually when we first got to town, some three months ago, we went for a walk and fantasized about this exact house, saying if we could choose any place in town that would be where we want to live. Low and behold, 90 days later and we're cooking stir fry in the kitchen.
The spartan exterior. All building is done here in either adobe or cement. Just pray there are no big earthquakes.
The other day we went to Primi, our co-employee's house in Yampupata (a small small town further down the lake about an hour away from Copa) for a campo cookout. This picture show's the group. On the left is Dave, owner and founder of The Spitting LLama, next to him is Primi in her finest hat. Romy is standing above Primi's son Brandon. Innocencia, Primi's mother, is glaring angrily at the camera and Caitlin is looking marvelous on the far right.