I chewed coca leaves, and my mouth is numb.

Phase two: Some things I learned, some things I find strange.

Being a broke college student in Bolivia is great. Yeah, I blow through 500 Bs in 5 to 7 days.But that’s less than 100 bucks. Therefore, I’ve only spent about 400 bucks since being here, and that’s with taking public transportation everywhere (mainly taxis), buying touristy stuff, going out to eat way too often, and doing expensive excursions. This is a great place to travel for the college student on a budget; most street food is less than a dollar and you can buy a really nice, handmade alpaca sweater for about 20 bucks.

Minibuses appoint random people to call out and advertise the destination, as well as take fares, which sometimes are strange prices like 2.40 B. I was told that they’re random, but I think they’re skilled somehow. They rattle off the destination as if they’ve been practicing as an auctioneer, hanging out of the open door as the bus drives by.

Dogs here wear clothing more often than I’ve ever seen. Due to the high volume of stray dogs, I came to the conclusion that this is how the homeless are distinguished from the housed. My friend thinks that it’s to keep them warm, but I disagree.

In our favorite internet cafe, Blueberries, there is a bulletin board where advertisements for everything is posted, from car sales to event publicity, even solicitations for friendships and relationships. We posted one for our friend Gato:

Cholitas ask you to pay them if you want a picture,

The cholita covering her face yelled at us shortly after this photo was taken.

while little ninos and ninas follow and stare at you until you snap a few of them.

Many food and beverage kiosks serve your aliment on a non-disposable plate or in a glass cup, requiring that you stand next to the kiosk to consume it.

Cholitas chill in their produce piles as they sell it. 

Believe me, these women are ballers. A vegetable vendor broke my 200B after charging me 5B for 8 bananas without a problem, while most vendors or even shopkeepers would supplicate for smaller bills.

Shoe shiners cover their faces and beg you to step up on their “briefcase” as you pass. What defines an occupation is completely different from the those in the U.S. While a street worker is more rare and less lucrative in that capitalist society, the foundation of La Paz seems to be those who work in the streets. Business people get their shoes shined for 2.50B before going to the office. Men in suits throng around kiosks ornamented with sweets, snacks and knick knacks, reading newspapers from one of the many vendors that crowd the city in the morning. Street vendors sell the TIGO or VIVA cards used to upload credit onto most Bolivian phones.

Alex getting her boots shined. These guys holler at them boots every time she passes.

And oh, the food. Food here has a different meaning. The food is made up of mostly meat, potatoes and bread. You can buy a bag of 8 Mariquetas on the street for 2B ( about 15 cents). In the United States, this would inevitably lead to obesity. But here, the food is fuel. Carbs don’t sit in your stomach and turn to cellulite. You eat about three whole potatoes and half of a baguette, then you walk a few miles, dominantly uphill.

In Latin America, which I’ve learned from the people surrounding me who each have roots in their own respective parts of the continent show that people live to eat, not eat to live. While I came here as a vegan that was constantly watching my calorie intake, it’s refreshing to find an environment where it’s okay to enjoy food, as it’s made directly in front of you, fresh and by someone who takes what they do seriously. A burger and fries in the united states is made by one of billions of people who work the drive thru, not exactly sure what’s under the wrapper they’re handing you. Burgers and fries here are fried directly in front of you, the potatoes and cows come from the hills just a twenty-minute taxi ride to the south. Therefore, the baked, or fried, Saltenas and Tucumanas sold on the streets aren’t as guilt-harboring as eating fried, processed food from a U.S. chain.

Never before have I been so tempted to eat meat; The presentation here is different. However, the gorgeous fruit markets have of course held  me over. Best apples I’ve ever tasted, I bought 7 for less than $1 on the street. Bananas are dirt cheap (although I bought only-friable plantains for the first time, unknowingly), and Cherimoyas, oh boy. They are pretty pricey, but they taste like Ice cream.

Fernet is the greatest drink ever. It’s a liquor from Italy that tastes somewhat like Jager, said to contain a number of herbs including myrrh, rhubarb, chamomile, cardamom, aloe and saffron. It’s been rumored to have anything from shrooms and absinthe to coca leaf, st. John’s wort and peppermint. I wouldn’t deny any of the rumors, either, because it tastes like a mix of everything. What I know for sure is that it makes me feel great. When my friend and I have Fernet the night before, we wake up feeling like new women.

 

This is API, it tastes like apple cider and is made out of corn.

What’s not so great: sushi in Bolivia. I should have known not to go in the first place, but our Editor in Chief told us that this place is really good. We sat down and looked at the menu, and the first thing I saw was:

California Roll- Jamon, Queso, Huevo…

I chuckled and left.

Customer service doesn’t really exist here. At the same sushi place, they charged us a random cover charge of 20B for a band that was going to be there whether we chose to eat or not. Restaurants also don’t like to split checks. One of the most popular happy hours in the city insisted that they don’t have change enough to let us split our 99B check between 4 girls. We were buying Fernet at a grocery store and a women shooed us out of her aisle, yelling that she was cleaning. Waiters don’t really check up on you at your tables and sometimes bring food to each person half an hour apart. I think this is because tipping is neither expected nor common here.

La Paz, or Bolivia in general, is incredibly diverse. You’ll see poverty, wealth, tradition and modernism all in the same day. The only thing you’re missing is the beach. From one of the top vista points, La muela del Diablo to which my friend and I hiked, you’ll see the countryside, city, favelas and suburbs with the backdrop of the snowcapped Andes.