Ever think of going to Bolivia ?
I don’t suppose many people do, it’s not a prime holiday destination. In fact at the moment , it’s a little dodgy, with civil unrest, road blocks and downright riots in some areas, as some of the more well- to-do show their discontent with Evo Morales’ ‘pueblo’ policies.
However, Sue, my wife, as a teacher at St Agnes School became involved in an exchange arrangement with an independent school called Kusikuna in the town of Tiquipaya, just outside Cochabamba, central Bolivia. A representative of Kusikuna came over in the summer and Sue was chosen for the reciprocal visit.
Well I could’nt let her go on her own could I ?

We arrived on Thursday 16th Oct.

Here’s my log of the trip.

Friday.

Comin’ atcha from downtown Cochabamba.

Took a morning tour of the City in an open-top bus with a bunch of extra-loud school kids. Although slapped in the face by seed pods hanging down from the pavement trees and nearly garrotted by the low slung cables; it’s a good way to see the delights and curiosities of the City centre, with its flaking Spanish colonial architecture surrounding the palm tree plazas, its numerous Catholic churches, Its thronging restaurants and growing apartment blocks.

Alvin

Our guide was Alvin, a young teacher of English who spoke about the Bolivian social divide generally, as well as his own opinions as a forward-thinking Cochabamban living in a society with some entrenched ideas.

Good luck mate. The overhead cables are like spider's webs.

We threaded slowly through the sunny streets taking in the colour and the busy scenes.
Basically, however, we’ve never been to anywhere so poor and as you move outwards, the style quickly turns towards more basic dwellings and then to clay hovels and rubble.

Want to add a new floor? Wedge these sticks in while I build the walls.

Even here though, there are the apartment blocks, always surrounded by strong fences and walls, of the more affluent inhabitants. These tend to be in a constant state of growth as more family members need more flats, which are added on top of those already built.
We are staying for a few nights in the family flat of Henry, a genial teacher from Kusikuna school, and the one who had previously visited Cornwall. We have been treated to some good home cooking and we’ve also been charmed by his daughter of 4 months, Myra.
The weather is hot, the parakeets are loud, Jesus looks over the whole city from high on a hill, an old lady comes around selling ice-creams from a trolley every day. Hear her honking horn and run out to buy one.

Ice cream?

Henry takes us to Tiquipaya in the evening to see an indigenous gathering/ceremony with music from the school band and herbs thrown on a fire to honour Pachamama the Earth Goddess.

We then go on a night tour of Cochabamba.

The plazas are loud with music and alive with people. It’s a big party.
Tomorrow we go to Tiquipaya again for the Fiesta of San Miguel-and they know how to party.