Caught an early bus for La Paz from Copacabana, with one view out over towering snowy mountains, the other over the calm of Titicaca. We had to stop and cross the lake at one point, and or bug drove onto what essentially amounted to a floating dock slightly larger than the bus itself. Thankfully, we were off the bus as it crossed, having our passports inspecting by the Bolivian Navy. (remember now, Bolivia is landlocked, so the Navy just tootles around Lake Titicaca and shakes down gringos). One on our tour had her passport on th bus on the floating dock, which gota little bit sketchy for a moment as the passenger boat threateneed to pull away without her, but she somehow managed to tell him she would come back with her passport, miraculously no bribe required.La Paz, sprawling as it is, didnt take long to get to, we arrived first in El Alto, a suburb that is now bigger than La Paz, and is the worlds largest city of indiginous americans. The men tend to dress in standard western gear, but the women wear multiple broad skirts, woven tops and petticoats, carry bright pink swaddles on their backs that are filled with either groceries or babies. They also all wear these tiny top hats (almost like clown hats) perched atop their braided heads. The bus wound its way through snowy dirt roads of El Alto and on down into the valley, watching the city spread endlessly, slums and buildings climbing up cliffs and seeming to be precariously build about to tumble down ravines. In fact, the only end in sight was where the city met the smog, and just faded to white in the distance.
Found a hotel without much difficulty in spite of demonstration related traffic, and started exploring. Thinking we heard gunshots, or at least smoke grenades, we headed immediately in that direction, having heard a demonstration was happening. We made our way through crowds of people, down to the central plaza which was swarming with riot police in terrifying uniforms complete with tear gas cannisters, shotguns, and full on riot gear. The gunshots and gas grenades we thought we heard were just protesters shooting fireworks indiscriminately. Or perhaps they were aiming for the cops. The policia nacional however, were none too receptive to our questions, or seemed amused at being photographed. Whats amazing about these demonstrations is that they are so typical that everyone else was just going about their business in spite of the noise and police and marchers, hell- there was even a guy walking along with the marchers selling them cotton candy! In spite of the normalcy of it all, and the fact that ultimately it WAS peaceful, we thought we skedaddle before the next pickup truck full of policia kindly asked us to permanently borrow our cameras.
So on to the witches market, which was not as big as I had hoped, but did have an excellent selection of dried llama fetuses if thats your thing. Plenty of bizarre curses and potions as well, sold by people whos spanish was barely better than my own, not being their first language either.So we decided to hit up the Museo del Coca, or Coca Museum, about the Coca plant that is now infamous for processing into cocaine. The exhibits were a little dry and a little propagandistic, but quite informative and thought provoking over all. Coca leaves- the raw material of cocaine, has been used in the Andes for tea or chewed for thousands of years as a mild stimulant. The spanish came and the church immediately declared it officially diabolical, banning its use by the subjugated people. That is, until they discovered that the slaves in the mines would work longer hours and harder when they used it. The church reversed its ruling, and blessed the stuff, with the whole colonial operation feeding coca leaves to the miners as their only sustenance during 48 hour shifts in the mines! The history of so much of the world is full of exploitation and horror. And the colonialism and wretched mining conditions continue today, hence the strikes that nearly kept us from travelling by bus. (more on mining when we get to Potosi) The museuem continued on with the explanation of pharmaceutical uses of coca, and its refinement by western powers into these drugs we know today. Like the church in the 16th century, the solonialist UN and US declared coca to be diabolical in the 20th, except when it suits them. Essentially, the museum told the story of a native plant, indiginous to the culture and used for spiritual purposes, that becomes alternately vilified and commodified by Western powers. The museum points out, somewhat accurately, that most profits from the drug trade benefit non-Bolivians, whether it is the Colombians who control the trade, the Russians, Swiss, Panamanians and Americans who control the money laundering, or Americans who conbtrol the distribution, little goes back to the Bolivian people who make the cocaine at the price of 2.16 per Kilo!!!! The import of refining chemicals in banned in Bolvia, but it is European and American firms who make, sell and ship the chemicals needed for refinement. Still, although I agree that fighting drugs on the supply side rather than demand side is hopeless, especially after seeing coca fields that are thousands of years old, and trucks full of coca leaves, can buy myself coca leaves outside this internet cafe, whose proprieter, like 90% of the people here chew coca leaves. So how do you destroy the coca leaf without significantly damaging the culture- bearing in mind that most Cocaleros (coca farmers) are also Aymara or other native groups. Still, the museum was a bit lopsided, and could have placed more responsibility on Bolivia. After all, the cocaine trade accounts for up to 40% of the Bolivian economy.
Interestingly, Evo Morales, the current president and first indiginous president in the Americas, was the former head of the coca growers union. He wants to replace the laurel wreath on the Bolivian flag, which he sees as a western symbol, with the coca leaf, a symbol of native indiginous pride.
Pictures: Riot police with indiginous Chola woman, Dried Llama fetuses
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