Exploring "La Ciudad Blanca"
Hostel Charcas was located directly across the street from the Iglesia San Francisco, which meant that we were absolutely in the "center of it all". The traffic outside on Calle Ravelo was non-stop. Traffic police maintained a constant chorus of whistle chirps and stutters. For the life of me I couldn't figure out which blast meant to go and which meant that traffic should stop. Using their hands to mute the vibrating whistle bead the oratory left a promising headache on the rise and a heightened desire to explore the city. The whistle blasts were so consistent, that even when traffic had calmed down for the night and the police had gone home, the resident parrot kept mimicking banter going most of the night.
The main entrance to Iglesia San Francisco, which served as a troop barracks in the Spanish revolution, among other things, has subtly captivating detail. Since everything is painted a bright white and the high altitude sun glares from above, there is relatively little incentive to look upwards. But, if you do take the chance to peer (early morning and sunset are the best times) the frieze designs are impressive.
Facing the main entrance of Iglesia de San Francisco, if you head to the right (corner of Ravelo and Aniceto Arce) is a classic church square lined with native craft vendors... this is where the good quality goods can be found.
Lipika is a good soul with values which brought me back to my German childhood. She had found a 5 Boliviano coin on the street, about $0.75. This may not be much to a gringo traveler, but could make a nice difference in a native person's day. So, Lipika was on a mission to find someone to bequeath her monetary find. A local woman, sitting with coca leaves under one eye, to help with a condition, was more than happy to be the recipient. Both women were happy for the transaction.
The two square blocks around Iglesia de San Francisco fills with local life. Children focus on homework, while sitting on the street corner.
Or, if you would like to see a real food market in action, simply walk around to the left of the church entrance and prepare to be amazed with produce, but be careful with photos as the vendors here aren't so amicable.
Ironically, we climbed right back up the hill to our lodging location of the first night in Sucre. Off in the distance is a row of connected arches, which house a craft market with the best views in town.
One of the beauties of South America, and Bolivia in particular, is by keeping an open eye for simplicity, beauty will find you. Everything from a Mom waiting with her son...
... to a dog waiting patiently in the doorway takes on new, added, meaning.
Finally reaching the hilltop market, there was a wealth of hand crafted goods to choose from.
But, Lipika was not so sure about a grey hat for me, so trustingly I acquiesced and got a brown one instead.
Our reward for shopping here is another chance at incredible city-scape views. (The tower to the right is Islesia de Santa Monica, while the tower to the left is the Cathedral, with the former Capital building flying the national colors in the center.)
The advantage of a complete lack of sky scraping structures is that church towers poke into the heavens with clarity. In modern, Western, culture we have lost this metaphorical stretch in the shadows of our new sleek glass encased business temples, which value the separation of looking down on others more than peering upwards into imagination.
Unlike Valparaiso, Chile, which still baffles the imagination as to why it has been declared a UNESCO World Heritage Site, Sucre's merits as a capsule into Colonial Spanish architecture is clear and undeniable.
The Bolivian Supreme Court building stands majestically at the edge of Parque Bolivar.
The municipal theatre and former opera house looks like it would be equally comfortable in Vienna as Sucre.
This post office headquarters blends historic architecture with modern communications, all while celebrating the 20th anniversary of this vital function.
Sucre is also know for its city parks, far superior to any other Bolivian attempts. The range of flora here continues to impress.
Walking the city, we decided to take a rest on one of many cast framed benches, which could easily have been of colonial period design, save the 2004 seal.
Actually, truth be told, the bench was a good place to recover from a wasp sting. This aggressive variety was particularly vehement, swelling my entire forearm. As the venom quickly spread, my bicep remained locked in a state of constant constriction. It took the better part of 20 minutes for things to settle and the muscles to release, which was when this photo was taken (so imagine the "real time" impact).
Just when tempted to think I was in bad shape, the king of Spain saved me from self-pity. Even though colonial freedom came in 1825, the locals make sure to remember the weight of empirical rule and publicly shun symbols of burden where ever possible.
Kitty-corner to the former capital building of Bolivia, under renovation after recent riots, lies the Casa de la Libertad.
This structure was the focal point of the revolution and where the Bolivian declaration of independence was signed. Visiting the historic site allowed Lipika a refreshing splash of Deutsch. Our guide spent several months in Munich as an aupare, remembering an incredible vocabulary from this stint in the 1980's. (I figured either German or Spanish would net about 50% comprehension, so at least someone should fully receive the data... and of course be willing to answer questions.)
This gilded loft hangs over the entrance to the first hall of state for Bolivia.
Initially, this room served as a royal magistrate chamber, however, post-revolution it seemed fitting to use for legislature. Just to the right of the main chamber is a smaller hall, which houses the very first Argentine flag. It was used in battle against the Spanish, as part of the Bolivian liberation quest, so has significance for both countries. At this point, there is a technological stalemate for possession. The Bolivians have agreed that the flag belongs to Argentina, but if it is moved from the current resting place it will deconstruct to shreds. So, for now, the historic relic stays put.
Originally one of the oldest colleges, the current building boasts large courtyards and systemic colonial architecture.
With the looming clouds and hints towards rain, we thought it might be a good idea to grab some dinner, on the main square, prior to catching an evening bus to LaPaz.
Somehow, we have managed to keep our sense of humor over the consistent drone of near sleepless nights traversing a patchwork of paved and not-so-paved Bolivian infrastructure.
Or, it could simply be that my goofy cowboy hat, left over from the solar, still brings a laugh to Lipika, which in turn becomes contagious.
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