The Other Side of Bolivia Part 2

Well, I'm back to continue the story of my time in the department (read: state) of Santa Cruz. 

First, a photo of the couple who hosted me in Santa Rita:

After our stay in the community of Santa Rita, we made the trek back to the city of Santa Cruz: six sweaty, sticky hours in a bus, where the breeze is life-saving but also barely tolerable because of the hot, humid air that it slams into your face. The initial bus ride to the town had been tolerable because I slept the whole way after staying up the night before (how did that become a tradition with my friends?) but this time no sleep was in reach. So when we arrived at the hotel in Santa Cruz, I ran straight for the pool and jumped straight in without even bothering to put a bathing suit on! What a relief! I proceeded to continue this trend every time that we returned to the hotel during the next two days spent in the city.

 Our time in the city was very short, and we barely got to know the central district before heading to our next destination. The city is organized in concentric rings, and only once did we leave the center of the innermost ring, so I wouldn't say that I know the city at all. But we did get to eat some tasty Japanese food - how happy was I to see kimchi on the menu! - and met someone who organizes a cycling movement of Santa Cruz. Oh, and we went to the first shopping mall of Bolivia, a trip that I did not enjoy because if you don't like shopping malls in the States, then you won't like them in Bolivia either. 

Our final stay was in the town of Samaipata, 3ish hours to the west of Santa Cruz, in the foothills of the Andes. The town has become a mecca for environmentally-conscious folk from around the world who are seeking a place to live out their ideals. There over 100 organic farms, countless permaculture and alternative therapy retreat centers, and lots of bioconstruction. At the same time though, there is still the local population that was there before the immigration began, and we got the sense that there is a fairly significant divide between the two populations. However, we really only interacted with the "immigrant" side while we were there, so I don't feel like I developed a very well-rounded perspective on the dynamics in the town. 

We were able to spend an entire day of our stay hiking in the national park that borders the town! This was an incredible experience because it is home to one of the world's few remaining Jurassic-era forests! Imagine yourself surrounded by giant ferns and 1,000 year old trees - pretty amazing!

Giant fern! They have trunks like trees but open up into a more normal-looking fern at the top.

Looking up the spiny trunk of one of the giant ferns.

The trunk of one of the anciant trees, in the eucalyptus family. They grow super slowly, thus look similar in size to a maple but are many times their age.

The yellow fruits on this plant are so poisonous that you will die if you eat them!

It was wonderful to get out in the mountains and hike for a day finally! And to have a biologist as a guide made it even better. Unfortunately the protected areas of Bolivia are protected by name but woefully underprotected in practice so there is infiltration in many of them by agriculturalists and loggers. Even during our hike, we came across a number of cows wandering through the brush, which is extremely damaging in such a fragile, unique environment. And just this year, President Evo Morales issued a decree that all protected areas can be opened for hydrocarbon exploration and extraction. So  even the "protected by name" element is losing it's significance! Our experience here in Bolivia has definitely shown us how empty  of meaning "official discourse" can be.

After a few more days of delicious food - so many fresh veggies! - and visits to various interesting initiatives, we headed back to Cochabamba. Now I'll be staying here until the end of the program! It's nice to know that for the whole month ahead I will be in one place, and on my own for the most part as we are about to start our independent research projects.

Next up: the story of my best and worst Halloween weekend.

Ciao,

Lucy