Smuggling Llamas to the States

They´re cute...they really are. And I think one would make a great addition to my life in Berkeley. So, if anyone knows of a good way to smuggle a llama back stateside, let me know.

So why do I bring this up? Well, I just spent the last five days in the middle of nowhere...literally...where all that existed were llamas and late model Toyota Land Cruisers. During those five days I had a lot of time to think about how I was going to describe a place that is arguably the most beautiful location I have ever been. Additionally, I tried to figure out how to describe my travel companions, whom I was hardly able to converse with. Well, the only thing I came up with during those few days was the llama thing. Go figure. Anyhow, I am going to try to do my best to describe Bolivia, Salar de Uyuni, the end of the earth, and the transcendent powers of cards and wine in the next few paragraphs. Here goes...

I left La Paz Monday night for bone-rattling trip to the distant village of Uyuni. Uyuni is known for pretty much one thing: salt. It is the jumping off point for tours of the Salar de Uyuni, which is an expansive (and by expansive I mean "can´t see the other side" expansive) salt flat. The salt flat is fascinating for a couple of reasons. First, at times when you are driving you can only see two things: the blindingly white ground and the vividly blue sky. That´s it. Very surreal. Second: in such a Dali-esque landscape, one has the ability to create photos that take advantage of the lack of depth perception. For example, we took photos that made us look like we were emerging from a bottle, falling off of a can of Pringles, or kissing a giant (or lilliputian person, depending on the way you think). Now, I don´t have any of those photos because they are on my friend Maya´s camera, but here is an example of what I mean.


Now, who were my partners in crime on this adventure? That would be my Bolivian guide, his wife the cook, and five post-army Israelis. Of those five Israelis, only one, Maya, actually spoke fluent English. Of all the trips I have taken, and of all the people I have met, this was probably one of the more random groups I have ever been paired with. It was difficult, and at times frustrating. However, as I will detail later, I wouldn´t have had it any other way.

So here is the set-up: three days crossing through the otherworldly terrain of southwestern Bolivia in a psychotically-driven Land Cruiser that was oftentimes only started by popping the clutch, while listening to five chain-smoking Israelis debate politics, evolution, theology, morality, and American pop culture (all in Hebrew, remember), to the ambient sound of Israeli music being blasted through small, treblely-gifted speakers. All the while, the remarkably beautiful landscape passed by the window of our vehicle. This is my life.

One more things should be noted. The altitude of this region is about 12,000 to 16,000 feet. While those of us from Colorado take pride in the fact that we live at a mile high and play even higher, our lives don´t even compare to this.

The terrian was both diverse and mesmorizing. From the previously described salt flats, to the vividly colored lagoons, the trek was a constant moving picture of beauty. Along the way we were treated to awe-inspiring views of the Andes, the odd-beauty of alpine deserts, the occasional wild-llama, steaming natural springs, and sub-freezing temperatures. At the furthest point of the trip, we found ourselves at the very corner of Bolivia; the point where it touches both Chile and Argentina. Although the temperature was brutally cold, the scenery was unbelievable. While the entire trip was completed far from civilization, it was at that moment that I really felt like I was at the end of the earth. I took nearly 300 photos with my new camera, which I feel really capture the dynamic and ever-changing landscape of the region. I can´t wait to share them with each of you.

So how did I communicate with my compatriots. Well, Spanish and broken English were helpful, as were Maya´s translations. However, the most productive way was through wine and the card game, "Shithead". Most of you know that my self-diagnosed ADD pretty much precludes me from participating in card games, but for some reason I love Shithead. For those of you who don´t know if it, it is essentially the common game that travelers worldwide know and love. I learned it in Asia, played it in Europe, and perfected it in South America. For some reason, it is almost a universal language of its own.

So, after three days tightly packed in our Toyota, and two nights sharing laughs over cards, it was time to leave my new found friends. As we came to the drop-off spot, the point where I was to depart my group to join another returning to Uyuni, one final song came over the speakers. Of the literally thousands of Hebrew songs on the iPod, that song, a Counting Crows Song, for some reason came on. For those of you who know me well, you know that A) the Counting Crows are my favorite band, especially while traveling (I have probably listened to August and Everything After hundreds of times while traveling), B) I am a huge believer in both serendipìty and "the vibe", so I think you can see the symbolism here. While at many times I questioned why I had been paired with this group on such a long and gruling trip, I grew to greatly enjoy their company and companionship, and I missed them greatly when we finally parted ways.

So that´s it. Sure, I could tell many more stories, from being reintroduced to the beauty of an Andean market, to the desire of every barber in La Paz to shave my beard, but I will save those for later.

I hope everyone is doing well. Until next time! Sababa!




P.S. - In a hazy, most likely sleep-deprived, bumpy road-induced stupor, I came up with a comedy show that I would like to introduce to South America. The name of the game: "Not in South America!" Essentially, the host shows various instances where non-South Americans try and navigate the cultural and logistical aspects of the continent. At the end of each segment, the studio audience, which is made up of indigenous people from the Andes, samba dancers from Brazil, the social elite of Argentina, and Bolivian President Evo Morales, exchange laughs, high fives, and yell out "Not in South America!" For example, "Oh, so you want a bus that leaves on time and doesn´t break down? Not in South America!" Or, perhaps, "You don´t want to be hassled on the streets by sock-peddling street vendors? Not in South America!" I think you get the idea.