Bolivia, Airline Tickets, French, and More
Originally Written June 6, 2010 (Anniversary of D-Day, the Battle for Normandy in 1944)
Dear Readers,
I apologize for my lapse in writing for the past month or so, or whenever my last entry was. I haven’t forgotten to write. The truth was I just didn’t feel like it, and I didn’t want to force anything when I write. So it was best for me not to write at all.
I’ve been traveling a lot out of site this past month, with the big trip being a voyage I took to Bolivia. This trip had an ironic little tidbit of trivia about it for me: of all the traveling I’ve done, this was actually the first time I ever booked my own airline tickets. Every other time my parents did it, or an organization (such as Peace Corps or Rotary when I was an exchange student to Mexico), or friends did. The one time I thought for sure I’d be booking my own tickets, and thus taking this step into traveler’s independence, was when I was trying to fly to Denmark to visit my friend Maria, and I asked another friend, Dylon, to show how to book tickets online. Instead he just did it all for me, which is not what I wanted.
Like most things, however, it turned out to be a lot less scary than I imagined it would be. My phobia was about coordinating times and then missing my flights. I don’t know how many times I read my schedule to those around me, trying to hear second opinions about if that sounded good or if they saw some logistical error I had missed, such as not granting myself enough lay-over time.
This last paragraph, however, points to an issue of mine that I’m struggling to overcome: Getting other people’s opinions. To a point, it’s often healthy to listen to the views of others, since no one knows everything and can often benefit from hearing from the wisdom of second parties. But then there comes a time where a person is unable to function well because of how they think other people view them or because they constantly feel they need to look to other people for reassurance or affirmation. This is something that I’ve struggled with for so long sometimes it’s hard to tell which thoughts are my own thoughts and which are “programmed” views of others, or of the media (generally speaking), or of the media put into other’s heads which is then put into my head, and so on. I’ve noticed that even when I speak, I often start repeating phrases and words that other’s before me have just used. Sometimes this is because what the other has said seems to make perfect sense, but sometimes I get a little paranoid it’s a result of not being able to think for myself.
It’s ironic, but I wonder if being encouraged “thinking for one’s self” is one of the causes of not thinking for one’s self. If we are encouraged to investigate on our own, as we are, and let me be clear, I do think this is very important, I think sometimes we are seduced by what we don’t understand, but start repeating it as our own views, or saying we that we endorse such and such a view even though we don’t understand it.
……Ok, this is getting to circular for me. I’ve been looking into meditation and learning how to live a more spiritual life and one less stuck on ego, or in the head, because basically, that stuff I wrote above goes through my head all the time and it’s a huge energy drain. I don’t need anymore anxiety or stress or confusion in my life. I’m starting to see that there’s a way to live without all that, and I’m trying to figure out how one goes about doing it. It’s something I’m a little skittish about, because I know that there are a lot of people with ulterior motives such as money or attention, but then look at any spiritual or religious journey: No matter the path you take you will find very honest resources and people, as well as dishonest ones. Anyways, I’m trying to figure out how one lives a life of peace and fullness, rather than one where you are always analyzing the world. It was kicked off by a book I read, called “The Power of Now” by Eckhart Tolle (I believe I’ve mentioned on my blog before) and it’s been a journey of significance for me this past year and a half.
(I just took a break to play with the dog. Now I’m back to writing.)
Philosophy aside, I’ll write a bit about my trip to Bolivia. Maya, a friend of mine from Switzerland, was traveling around Peru and Boliva for a couple of months and I asked her if she wanted a traveling companion for any of it, since she was basically traveling alone. She agreed and so we met in Puno, where I was for Holy Week. From there we travelled by bus into Bolivia. For Americans, traveling to Bolivia means paying an extra $135 because the Bolivian and American governments don’t know how to get along, and so they take it out on the tourists. I was aware of this. However, at the border, the ticket-taker on the bus (I don’t know if he was Peruvian or Bolivian) told me that I didn’t have any vaccination papers and that I’ve have to pay another $25 dollars. Not really having a choice that I could see, I exchanged my money into bolivianos which he said wouldn’t work, so I had to re-exchange my money right back into dollars for him. He took it and went to talk with whoever you talk to when you scam someone. I shouldn’t say he was scamming me since I really don’t know, but I didn’t get a good vibe from him. Afterwards, he tried to assure me that he wasn’t taking my money, that it was for so I wouldn’t have to give any vaccination papers that I didn’t have (which worked out: no one asked to see anything other than my passport, but I don’t know if that is what was going to happen in the first place) and he suggested a tip might be in order. I was able to move on without paying him anything else, though.
That evening Maya and I went to an Island on Lake Titicaca called “Isla del Sol” off the city of Copacabana. We found a hostel to stay in and while walking around ran into some German tourists. They were a father and daughter from Dresden and while chatting, we agreed to get dinner together. The daughter spoke perfect, Irish-accented English, having lived in Belfast, yet her father struggled with the language. But neither of them spoke Spanish, so Maya and I ended up being their translators when the need arose during dinner. Nothing worth writing about was discussed during dinner, but it was incredible to me how perfect strangers could meet randomly and walk away a few hours later as friends.
This turned out to be the theme of the trip, and also the best part of it. The next day as Maya and I ended back towards the mainland, we happened to be sitting in front of a couple that I heard garbling some language back and forth, but speaking English ever now and then. Finally, wondering what in the hell it was they were speaking, I turned around and asked (as I usually do when I hear a language I don’t understand) where they were from. Turns out they were a couple from South Africa but they had been living in London for almost a decade. Maya perked up at this because she has personal connections to South Africa, I personally was more interested figuring out how to speak their language. We ended up talking about South African culture, sports, food, languages, and so on for the rest of the boat ride. When we got back to Copacabana, Jaco and Salmina talked about how they need to get money and bus tickets for La Paz. Neither of them knew much Spanish, so we split up to the bank and to the bus station, Maya and I serving as interpreters for the couple.
As Maya and I were heading to La Paz for the next stop, we ended up traveling together, finding a hotel, and spending the next couple of days or so together.
La Paz is set in a beautiful part of the world, and the first glimpse of it really was stunning. But the city itself was less than impressive. If someone wants to travel there, I wouldn’t stop them, but you certainly won’t die if you don’t get to it, and I think Bolivia has better places for tourists, such as the Salt Flats, which I will need to visit someday. But the four of us still had a great time just hanging out together, going to restaurants (which were excellent, I thought. It was all tourist food but to be honest that’s what I was in the mood for) and playing cards. Jaco and I discussed books that we liked to read, and I’m not sure what the girls did, when they weren’t with us, although we once did get separated in the black market of La Paz which made Jaco and I a bit nervous. We also got locked out of our hotel, went to a place called a Witch’s Market where you can buy good luck charms, ranging from colorful seeds, to dried, dead baby alpaca (or llama) carcasses to bury under your home for good fortune, and we visited a place called The Valley of the Moon, where years of erosion has made for a landscape out of mud, that doesn’t really look like the moon, but does look other worldly as you walk through it. We were within hearing distance of a firing range, and when a gun went off Jaco would try to identify it. I thought this was amusing because I’m used to most folks I meet from other countries to think that guns were crafted by Satan himself.
Dylon, if you’re reading this, I think you would get along with Jaco as well. I mentioned your South Africa passion with him and Salmina, which they both appreciated.
By the time Maya and I parted ways with Jaco and Salmina, we’d made yet more friends and I added Afrikaans to my ever-growing list of languages to learn. I’ll try to learn it after Dutch, which hopefully I can get to fairly soon.
From there, Maya and I joined up with another Swiss lady, Sonja, this one from the German speaking part (Maya’s from the French speaking part) and we traveled to a small town in the mountains called Sorata. The town itself doesn’t have much to offer, but it does have surprisingly good pizza joints.
The reason people go to Sorata is to hike the mountains around it. After some confusion we arranged for a guide to take us on a day-hike to see a pool of water that had been sacred to the indigenous people centuries ago (you can still see remnants of their stone homes around the lagoon). The landscapes were gorgeous, and it was perfect podcast listening time, so I while taking in the mountains and valleys around me, I got to learn about the intelligence of dolphins, theories about what may or may not happen in 2012, studies about how some people can’t feel physical pain, and how a French mass-murder inspired the tale of Bluebeard.
I remember being surprised when we got to the lagoon since it was much smaller than I thought it would be. But it was quiet and Sonja, Maya, and I plus our guide were the only ones there. Unfortunately the clouds rolled in and obscured the view of the mountains, but the lagoon itself was quite serene.
And that basically was where my trip ended. After that, we got up early and headed back to La Paz, from whence Sonja and Maya planned on going to the jungle together, and I had to get back to Peru. From that point everything went without a hitch: no having to bribe people at the border, no delayed flights, or anything like that.
Back in site, my library continues to progress: the committee acquired book shelves as well as a donation to continue funding the work, and the latrine I’m building with the help of Teofilo is finally starting to look like a latrine.
Today I helped Patrick in one of his caserios as he gave a presentation about the importance of washing one’s hands. The truth is, if I gave demonstrations like that on a regular basis, I’d lose what’s left of my mind. Granted, it was a Sunday which means that people have been at the bottle all day, but even so, I don’t think I have the drive in me to lead groups like that.
But I started to see something I hadn’t seen before. It dawned on me that folk like them make up the much of the world, and to many of us, they aren’t a reality. We hear about how they live, without clean water, without education, without nutrition, in short, and I hope I’m not putting them down, but very simple lives. There’s a romanticism about simplifying life, but I don’t think this is the way people should hope for. There might be less materialistic stress out here, but the lack of opportunities, not just to an education, but to more basic things like a balanced diet are not even in the picture for them, both in terms of what’s available to them as well as what they are aware of. Case in point: adults have to be instructed on how to wash their hands and why it’s important to do so before eating and after relieving themselves.
When this dawned on me in a way it hadn’t before, I started to feel a level of compassion I think people talk about but I wonder how many of them actually feel. It’s not that I’m perfect though: even after nearly two years here I still often get irritated with what I perceive as backwards and don’t view them the way I probably ought to.
To wrap this up: I’ve also been studying the hell out of French. It started with new fervor after I met Maya, so I could communicate with her in her native language, and I’ve really gotten into becoming proficient in the language. While at this point I’d certainly still struggle to hold a conversation, I’m at a level where I understand much of the structure of the language quite well. I’m trying to develop a program I can use to learn other languages as well. I feel that I’m on a path of developing such a personal program that will enable me to learn languages rather quickly, using multiple methods, including flashcards, teach-yourself courses, novels, and so on.
I have yet to test anything, but I’m optimistic that I’m on the right track.
Till next time!
Tristan
Dear Readers,
I apologize for my lapse in writing for the past month or so, or whenever my last entry was. I haven’t forgotten to write. The truth was I just didn’t feel like it, and I didn’t want to force anything when I write. So it was best for me not to write at all.
I’ve been traveling a lot out of site this past month, with the big trip being a voyage I took to Bolivia. This trip had an ironic little tidbit of trivia about it for me: of all the traveling I’ve done, this was actually the first time I ever booked my own airline tickets. Every other time my parents did it, or an organization (such as Peace Corps or Rotary when I was an exchange student to Mexico), or friends did. The one time I thought for sure I’d be booking my own tickets, and thus taking this step into traveler’s independence, was when I was trying to fly to Denmark to visit my friend Maria, and I asked another friend, Dylon, to show how to book tickets online. Instead he just did it all for me, which is not what I wanted.
Like most things, however, it turned out to be a lot less scary than I imagined it would be. My phobia was about coordinating times and then missing my flights. I don’t know how many times I read my schedule to those around me, trying to hear second opinions about if that sounded good or if they saw some logistical error I had missed, such as not granting myself enough lay-over time.
This last paragraph, however, points to an issue of mine that I’m struggling to overcome: Getting other people’s opinions. To a point, it’s often healthy to listen to the views of others, since no one knows everything and can often benefit from hearing from the wisdom of second parties. But then there comes a time where a person is unable to function well because of how they think other people view them or because they constantly feel they need to look to other people for reassurance or affirmation. This is something that I’ve struggled with for so long sometimes it’s hard to tell which thoughts are my own thoughts and which are “programmed” views of others, or of the media (generally speaking), or of the media put into other’s heads which is then put into my head, and so on. I’ve noticed that even when I speak, I often start repeating phrases and words that other’s before me have just used. Sometimes this is because what the other has said seems to make perfect sense, but sometimes I get a little paranoid it’s a result of not being able to think for myself.
It’s ironic, but I wonder if being encouraged “thinking for one’s self” is one of the causes of not thinking for one’s self. If we are encouraged to investigate on our own, as we are, and let me be clear, I do think this is very important, I think sometimes we are seduced by what we don’t understand, but start repeating it as our own views, or saying we that we endorse such and such a view even though we don’t understand it.
……Ok, this is getting to circular for me. I’ve been looking into meditation and learning how to live a more spiritual life and one less stuck on ego, or in the head, because basically, that stuff I wrote above goes through my head all the time and it’s a huge energy drain. I don’t need anymore anxiety or stress or confusion in my life. I’m starting to see that there’s a way to live without all that, and I’m trying to figure out how one goes about doing it. It’s something I’m a little skittish about, because I know that there are a lot of people with ulterior motives such as money or attention, but then look at any spiritual or religious journey: No matter the path you take you will find very honest resources and people, as well as dishonest ones. Anyways, I’m trying to figure out how one lives a life of peace and fullness, rather than one where you are always analyzing the world. It was kicked off by a book I read, called “The Power of Now” by Eckhart Tolle (I believe I’ve mentioned on my blog before) and it’s been a journey of significance for me this past year and a half.
(I just took a break to play with the dog. Now I’m back to writing.)
Philosophy aside, I’ll write a bit about my trip to Bolivia. Maya, a friend of mine from Switzerland, was traveling around Peru and Boliva for a couple of months and I asked her if she wanted a traveling companion for any of it, since she was basically traveling alone. She agreed and so we met in Puno, where I was for Holy Week. From there we travelled by bus into Bolivia. For Americans, traveling to Bolivia means paying an extra $135 because the Bolivian and American governments don’t know how to get along, and so they take it out on the tourists. I was aware of this. However, at the border, the ticket-taker on the bus (I don’t know if he was Peruvian or Bolivian) told me that I didn’t have any vaccination papers and that I’ve have to pay another $25 dollars. Not really having a choice that I could see, I exchanged my money into bolivianos which he said wouldn’t work, so I had to re-exchange my money right back into dollars for him. He took it and went to talk with whoever you talk to when you scam someone. I shouldn’t say he was scamming me since I really don’t know, but I didn’t get a good vibe from him. Afterwards, he tried to assure me that he wasn’t taking my money, that it was for so I wouldn’t have to give any vaccination papers that I didn’t have (which worked out: no one asked to see anything other than my passport, but I don’t know if that is what was going to happen in the first place) and he suggested a tip might be in order. I was able to move on without paying him anything else, though.
That evening Maya and I went to an Island on Lake Titicaca called “Isla del Sol” off the city of Copacabana. We found a hostel to stay in and while walking around ran into some German tourists. They were a father and daughter from Dresden and while chatting, we agreed to get dinner together. The daughter spoke perfect, Irish-accented English, having lived in Belfast, yet her father struggled with the language. But neither of them spoke Spanish, so Maya and I ended up being their translators when the need arose during dinner. Nothing worth writing about was discussed during dinner, but it was incredible to me how perfect strangers could meet randomly and walk away a few hours later as friends.
This turned out to be the theme of the trip, and also the best part of it. The next day as Maya and I ended back towards the mainland, we happened to be sitting in front of a couple that I heard garbling some language back and forth, but speaking English ever now and then. Finally, wondering what in the hell it was they were speaking, I turned around and asked (as I usually do when I hear a language I don’t understand) where they were from. Turns out they were a couple from South Africa but they had been living in London for almost a decade. Maya perked up at this because she has personal connections to South Africa, I personally was more interested figuring out how to speak their language. We ended up talking about South African culture, sports, food, languages, and so on for the rest of the boat ride. When we got back to Copacabana, Jaco and Salmina talked about how they need to get money and bus tickets for La Paz. Neither of them knew much Spanish, so we split up to the bank and to the bus station, Maya and I serving as interpreters for the couple.
As Maya and I were heading to La Paz for the next stop, we ended up traveling together, finding a hotel, and spending the next couple of days or so together.
La Paz is set in a beautiful part of the world, and the first glimpse of it really was stunning. But the city itself was less than impressive. If someone wants to travel there, I wouldn’t stop them, but you certainly won’t die if you don’t get to it, and I think Bolivia has better places for tourists, such as the Salt Flats, which I will need to visit someday. But the four of us still had a great time just hanging out together, going to restaurants (which were excellent, I thought. It was all tourist food but to be honest that’s what I was in the mood for) and playing cards. Jaco and I discussed books that we liked to read, and I’m not sure what the girls did, when they weren’t with us, although we once did get separated in the black market of La Paz which made Jaco and I a bit nervous. We also got locked out of our hotel, went to a place called a Witch’s Market where you can buy good luck charms, ranging from colorful seeds, to dried, dead baby alpaca (or llama) carcasses to bury under your home for good fortune, and we visited a place called The Valley of the Moon, where years of erosion has made for a landscape out of mud, that doesn’t really look like the moon, but does look other worldly as you walk through it. We were within hearing distance of a firing range, and when a gun went off Jaco would try to identify it. I thought this was amusing because I’m used to most folks I meet from other countries to think that guns were crafted by Satan himself.
Dylon, if you’re reading this, I think you would get along with Jaco as well. I mentioned your South Africa passion with him and Salmina, which they both appreciated.
By the time Maya and I parted ways with Jaco and Salmina, we’d made yet more friends and I added Afrikaans to my ever-growing list of languages to learn. I’ll try to learn it after Dutch, which hopefully I can get to fairly soon.
From there, Maya and I joined up with another Swiss lady, Sonja, this one from the German speaking part (Maya’s from the French speaking part) and we traveled to a small town in the mountains called Sorata. The town itself doesn’t have much to offer, but it does have surprisingly good pizza joints.
The reason people go to Sorata is to hike the mountains around it. After some confusion we arranged for a guide to take us on a day-hike to see a pool of water that had been sacred to the indigenous people centuries ago (you can still see remnants of their stone homes around the lagoon). The landscapes were gorgeous, and it was perfect podcast listening time, so I while taking in the mountains and valleys around me, I got to learn about the intelligence of dolphins, theories about what may or may not happen in 2012, studies about how some people can’t feel physical pain, and how a French mass-murder inspired the tale of Bluebeard.
I remember being surprised when we got to the lagoon since it was much smaller than I thought it would be. But it was quiet and Sonja, Maya, and I plus our guide were the only ones there. Unfortunately the clouds rolled in and obscured the view of the mountains, but the lagoon itself was quite serene.
And that basically was where my trip ended. After that, we got up early and headed back to La Paz, from whence Sonja and Maya planned on going to the jungle together, and I had to get back to Peru. From that point everything went without a hitch: no having to bribe people at the border, no delayed flights, or anything like that.
Back in site, my library continues to progress: the committee acquired book shelves as well as a donation to continue funding the work, and the latrine I’m building with the help of Teofilo is finally starting to look like a latrine.
Today I helped Patrick in one of his caserios as he gave a presentation about the importance of washing one’s hands. The truth is, if I gave demonstrations like that on a regular basis, I’d lose what’s left of my mind. Granted, it was a Sunday which means that people have been at the bottle all day, but even so, I don’t think I have the drive in me to lead groups like that.
But I started to see something I hadn’t seen before. It dawned on me that folk like them make up the much of the world, and to many of us, they aren’t a reality. We hear about how they live, without clean water, without education, without nutrition, in short, and I hope I’m not putting them down, but very simple lives. There’s a romanticism about simplifying life, but I don’t think this is the way people should hope for. There might be less materialistic stress out here, but the lack of opportunities, not just to an education, but to more basic things like a balanced diet are not even in the picture for them, both in terms of what’s available to them as well as what they are aware of. Case in point: adults have to be instructed on how to wash their hands and why it’s important to do so before eating and after relieving themselves.
When this dawned on me in a way it hadn’t before, I started to feel a level of compassion I think people talk about but I wonder how many of them actually feel. It’s not that I’m perfect though: even after nearly two years here I still often get irritated with what I perceive as backwards and don’t view them the way I probably ought to.
To wrap this up: I’ve also been studying the hell out of French. It started with new fervor after I met Maya, so I could communicate with her in her native language, and I’ve really gotten into becoming proficient in the language. While at this point I’d certainly still struggle to hold a conversation, I’m at a level where I understand much of the structure of the language quite well. I’m trying to develop a program I can use to learn other languages as well. I feel that I’m on a path of developing such a personal program that will enable me to learn languages rather quickly, using multiple methods, including flashcards, teach-yourself courses, novels, and so on.
I have yet to test anything, but I’m optimistic that I’m on the right track.
Till next time!
Tristan
posted by Tristan | 1:21 PM
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