Something Lost, Something Regained
Returning to La Paz was a point of mixed perspective. I was ready for heat and humidity relief via a return to a cool high altitude environment, but both of us held a little trepidation of haunting Death Road memories waiting to be overcome.
Thankfully, overnight there was only a misting sprinkle. Since the ground had shed almost all of the nocturnal moisture, the airport lay open for grass field take-offs and landings. So, after an abbreviated breakfast, we jogged to catch an airport bound bus.
The last couple of weeks have be almost completely void of panicked bus sprints or self-induced drama. Unfortunately, today was the exception. Our British travel buddies were a little more high strung than Lipika and I. While eating breakfast, one of them came jogging up to our table because the bus was leaving earlier than expected, while a block away the other did a spastic yelling and jumping routine. (For context, the bus would cost about a two dollars for the both of us or a cab about five dollars.) Caught in "their panic" of the moment, we paid for breakfast and went jogging down the street with bags in hand. Unfortunately, my camera bag was unzipped just enough to launch its contents, lens bevel first, into the cobble stone street... $350+ USD gone in an instant of needless energy. This was not a good cost benefit equation, save three bucks and lose $350. Surprisingly, rage was not my first response, but calm self-aware resolve not to let "other's stress" negatively affect my future decisions. We stopped running. The chirping Anglo monkey show continued on the corner as we walked calmly to the bus stop. The bus ran it's natural route, completing an end of divided boulevard U-turn to head our way. Lesson learned.
So now, completely dependent on Lipika's camera, we caught final airborne glimpses of the Rio Beni town of Rurrenabaque, while the pilot headed back "up hill" to the El Alto and La Paz.
The thinly oxygenated, high altitude (3,660M) air was the counter to a beautifully crisp La Paz morning. Mount Illamani lay perched at the end of most Eastward facing streets. The city was buzzing with humanity and this was our day to dive into the sea.
Along the way, we would play the "photo game", which takes two participants. The decoy, me, stands within range of the photographer's actual target. The the photographer can take a stealthy exposure, without annoying the locals. Note the man approaching over my right shoulder.
And, there you have it. The set up is relatively simple, while the rest is up to the photographer.
This shot was executed in exactly the same way, with really nice candid results.
The Palacio Legislativo rests in central La Paz on the Plaza Pedro D Murrillo, since being moved from Sucre. The structure is impressive, but my empathy is still with the citizens of Sucre who longingly smart from their stolen seat of legislative power.
The South side of the plaza boasts the Palacio Presidential, formal residence of US detractor President Morales. With Lipika primarily at the artistic director helm of the day's photo shoot, you never know what kind of candid characters will show up leaning against light poles.
There remains a great deal of pride in the Spanish Revolution Era for Bolivians, so the country's honor guard still wears period uniforms.
Lipika must have thought this one was particularly handsome and may have even garnered the twinges of a stoic smile.
A few door entrances up the street, Calle Comercio, lay the tomb of a Bolivian founding father. Aside from that brief snippet of translated information there weren't many clues for added significance.
But, the tomb site did provide nice visual perspective into the main plaza.
The city itself is dramatic: for reasonably maintained Spanish civil architecture in a punishing environment, ...
... with beautiful reaching bell towers, ...
... and broad boulevards (this one in front of Plaza San Francisco), ...
... but for me the prize remains the people. The modern pageantry of daily demonstrations, when combined with the flair of native dress adds emphasis and curiosity for the wandering traveler. Hopefully, this view doesn't belittle their cause, but compliments with a stranger's appreciative eye.
We continued through city streets and markets, hunting for a first quality, reasonably priced replacement camera. Finally, in a street near the Mercado Negro, a compromise was struck and a camera purchased.
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