Leave the door open for the unknown, the door into the dark | Rebecca Solnit, A Field Guide to Getting Lost

Monday, August 1, 2011

The Road Through Bolivia

Dear ones,

Greetings from the depths of Bolivia! Has anyone missed me? Anyone?? Donigan has, I know - thanks for your concern, dear Donigan!!! Yes, I have spent the last several weeks in Bolivia, having crossed in by way of Puno and then the majestic Lake Titicaca. I have pictures, and if the connection in this little Sucre cafe will let me upload them, they'll be up shortly! As for the writing, much has gotten done, but not much, perhaps, that's appropriate for this blog. My writings have gotten long and rambly, think-ey, and ten pages on the hotel in Puno might not work here on Patagonian Road. But, my book is taking shape in my mind and on this trusty laptop (despite the fact that my mouse has been failing...fingers crossed, fingers crossed, don't die on me now, dear MacBook).

But, I'll try to scrounge up something to post, to try and update my beloved following on the places I've seen in this amazing country. It's poor, there's no question of that, and for many, many miles I rode across deserts that looked the same for hours. My brain turned to mush a little bit there, and if it hadn't been for 'Senor Vivo and the Coca Lord,' and 'Travels in a Thin Country,' and, yes I'll admit it, 'Sarah's Key,' I would have had it alot harder. I've passed countless little ramshackle towns, and sprawling, freezing cities, and mountains cut open centuries ago, for the silver and gold inside. I've gone into the jungle, I've wandered La Paz, I've taken a ferry out onto the Isla del Sol, which is the most sacred island on Lake Titicaca. God, writing this, I feel so rich. And I have to say that I don't miss much. Sometimes home comes back to me and hits me in little, painful jabs, but for the most part I am trying to live as much as I can in the present. Being away from the digital realm has helped; what luxury it is, not to have to check emails and worry over correspondence and the likes of the Book. I have never felt such freedom, you know? And I have never met such people.

And I've been thinking alot about landscape. How can you not, when you're on a bus for dozens of hours, in a window seat? How does the landscape of this constantly shifting country make me feel? Peru and Ecuador boasted it, too, this incredible biodiversity: deserts, then mountains, then beaches, then jungle. God, these stretches of desert I've passed over, and how bored I sometimes felt. What rare moments of unutterable calm. Then there's the jungle, and those plantain crops and the sweet smells in the air and the tree-lined roads - what vitality a place like that infuses. And how different the calm of the forest is, from the calm of bare stretches of sand.

So I shall putter away and make something for you all to look at!!!


1 comment:

  1. I warned you. If you befriend an old man with abundant fatherly instincts, you should expect a bit of worry.

    When I read about those brutalized young French girls ... well, you can imagine.