(Source: insomnialy)
(Source: insomnialy)
update
so, here’s a list of some of the cool stuff you can’t see photos of that i did between la paz and la isla del sol (photos of isla del sol, arequipa, and colcha canyon guided tour forthcoming via various dubious channels):
-ethnologic museum: amazing exhibit of regional festival masks presented in creepy spotlighting in a pitchblack room! the room was also chockfull of high school kids in halloween costumes, for some odd reason. unbelievable textiles (note to self: wallpaper dreamhome in modern jalq’a netherworld tapestries)
-national art museum: good stuff.
-valle de las animas: QT with illimani, rocks thrown at me by local 8yr olds mad that i wouldn’t give them money, etc. quixotic “hike” through what has, since the LP was written, become a rural community (“path” now paved)
-tiahuanaco: a little underwhelming
-sunset from the calvary above copacabana (about the only thing swinging in that town between festivals and tourism high seasons)
the edenic, if ovehyped, isla del sol— way expired film in the disposable camera led to odd 70s filmstock effect.
copacabana— hardboiled quail eggs rule. and yeah, that’s blood in the gutter, this was right outside the market.
pickpocketed
first time ever. supercrowded bus coming back from epic hike. lost SOOO many RAD fotos that i wanna cry: not just of this trip, of everything from my going away party on. photoblog temporarily suspended, unless andrew brings me a backup camera.
coroico: sublime fogbank movements on hike
coroico: some kind of auditorium/MPR/sports arena?
the view from my hammock… sorry to rub it in
in coroico, there’s ham every which way
coroico: my club-med style accomodation, with sauna
note the vericose veins on the pigrump. who wants to buy that???
wierd japanese engrishu? “kobe mama dry co, ltd.” (all the micro-buses are japanese here, many with chinese or japanese model names, stickers and decals across them; so far, my fav bus name decalled across a windshield has been “soy solterito, ¿y que?” (title of a cumbia classic), and my fav sticker has been, in english, “my nissan is FANTASTIC”).
el alto: lucha libre. the mandatory tourist ticket, over 4x more expensive than the local one (imposed racially “unless i could prove bolivian citizenship”) pissed me off, as did the separate, closer (worse, in fact, but more prestigious) seating for tourists, but whatever, i paid extra and sat in the bleachers. my favorite characters were the surlier chola, the chubby everyman goodguy wearing a wifebeater with a stretched out, faded, barely-recognizable HOMER SIMPSON plastic-transfered on it, and “el cobarde,” with goth facepaint, a pomp, a dracula t-shirt, and rockabilly styling (rocket from the crypt, anyone?!?)
el alto: knockoff hats. this one reads “BERKELEY JEANS university oo california&”. i would’ve bought one except they were a.) hideous, and b.) like US$4 (wtf? i’m not made of money).
el alto: korean melodramas selling well in the aymara community
