So, my old site had tons of content that I don’t want to just leave out there somewhere in virtual reality. And to transfer all of the files at once is virtually impossible. I have three jobs! But I have to get that content back! Therefore, every Monday will be dedicated to a past phlog, hence Monday Memories. Bear with me with the formatting, it´s very hard to get just right! I´m leaving them just how they were, in the original form (unless there´s a typo or something!) Do relish in the past with me.

We start with the very last post I made while in Chile round one. I still view this as one of the coolest things I´ve ever done and seen, an experience of a lifetime. The only thing I would change is the part where I illegally entered the country…hindsight is 20×20.

What My Eyes Have Seen…

Bolivia

Thursday, December 17, 2009

The beauty of traveling without a set plan is the freedom to do something on a whim. So when you hear about this three night, four day trip across Bolivia’s frontier (the altiplano), you say “Well, why not?” It’s living for the moment, not anticipating tomorrow, simply enjoying the now. The outcome: Unfathomable sights and unforgettable experiences.

Standing in front of Laguna Colorada (pictured above) was a profound moment in my life. After getting over the fact that places like this actually exist, I just felt so grateful; grateful for loving parents who have supported me on all of my crazy whims, grateful for friendships and family, grateful for a strong and able body, I mean everything one can be thankful for, I felt it as I stood in front of this blood red wonder. I read a comment from one who had also done this excursion that said, “This was truly a life highlight.” I can think of no better way to say it. This was a part of my life I will never forget.

It all began with a bribe. I found out upon my entering Bolivia that being a US citizen required a visa. The three Swiss, the French guy, and the British girl in my group had no problems, their passports were stamped and all was well. This is where being able to speak Spanish really helped me out. The immigration officer informed me that the visa would cost $136 US dollars, and I pleaded to not have to pay since I would only be in country for four days. He told me to calm down, “tranquila senorita,” and wait to the side. So after watching a few more get by problem free and cursing the US for making it so difficult, the room cleared out and he turned to me and said “Give me $75 dollars and come back through this same immigration station.” I said, “I’ll give you $50 and we have a deal.” He wanted US dollars, but settled for Chilean Pesos, put the money in his pocket and gave me a little piece of paper with a stamp, which I gave back when I passed through the same border. Therefore, there is no documented proof that I have stepped foot in Bolivia, only my photos can attest to my time in country.

What I liked about Bolivians was their trueness to their culture. Throughout my travels in Chile and my time in Argentina, the majority of people resembled Western style, however in Bolivia this is not so, especially with the women. The problem is that they don’t want their photos taken. The first and second lady I asked wanted money, in which I tried to explain that I was a journalist and that it was unethical, but they did not care. So then I turned to undercover shooting from a distance. Finally I found a lady willing to have her portrait taken (above.)

The Toyota Land Cruiser that carried eight of us across the frontier. I have great respect for this auto because what it goes through is far from smooth riding. There was never a paved road, and we bounced all over the place. This is not a trip for those seeking comfort; it’s a rough journey that often times because of the dust required the windows up making for a very hot, stuffy and extremely bumpy ride.

 

 

Our first stop on the trip was Laguna Verde (Green Laguna.)
I knew at that moment I had made a wonderful decision.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

(Above) Lots of geothermic activity on the frontier, providing for a nice hot spring stop.
The water was around 97 degrees, however, due to the strong, cold winds blowing through, it felt really nice.

Bolivia proved to me that altitude sickness was a real thing. At one point we were at 4,900 meters above sea level, and man could I feel it in my head. Also any physical exertion left me short of breath and a bit dizzy. Tylenol and chewing a wad of cocaine leaves was able to remedy this for the most part.

Now I understand the photos I have seen of people with a cheekful of coke leaves, they’re just trying to get some energy. The first night we “slept” at about 4,500; I say “slept” because none of us were really able to get any rest, another result of altitude. In the morning I had one of the worst headaches in my life, and was quite thankful to hear that we would be traveling down to around 3,400, which made a world of difference.

 

 

At one point I stood in front of 30,000 flamingos grazing on the microorganisms responsible for Laguna Colorada’s color, and also those stunning pink feathers. I have learned that flamingos are not particularly fond of humans and they maintain a fair distance, making a telephoto lens necessary. I was able to get some decent shots with my 70-200 mm lens, but a bigger lens would have been much better. They were fun to watch though, and these are some tough birds; they stand against some extremely harsh winds and endure the cold nights of the frontier.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’m fairly certain that I captured flamingo procreation at Laguna Hedionda, which literally translates to Smelly Laguna. The translation is correct, as the lake stunk of sulfur. In total, we visited seven magnificent lagoons, each one inhabited by flamingos.

 

 

 

Boiling mud at Geyser Sol de Mañana, quite different from the Tatio Geysers in Chile.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A quick segment on Bolivian bathrooms

 

 

Pictured to the above is the first bathroom I used in Bolivia, located at the immigration station. You didn’t actually go inside the gutted bus, rather behind it, and you really had to watch your step.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Usually we used the “baño natural,” and occasionally there would be a bathroom along the way, always costing between two and five Bolivianos, about 75 cents. You knew you found a good one when there was soap.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Covering 12,000 square kilometers, the Uyuni Salt Flat was a blinding, flat and seemingly endless expanse of salt. As we drove along, I saw what looked to be a giant lake in the distance, which turned out to be my first experience with the desert’s tricks. I would absolutely hate to be lost out there, because you think you see an oasis or a person, but it’s all just a mirage and more flat nothingness.