Totally exhausted from the late night flight, the full day of sightseeing, and the high altitude, we wanted nothing more last night than sleep. It was as if our bodies didn't know how to fall asleep, or with the crazy schedules of the past days, didn't know when.
We had just gotten down, about 9 p.m., when the parade began. We could hear the drums many blocks away, and as they got closer, the brass players and then the singers and shouters. They came right up to our hotel and then turned, and turned again passing our hotel on two sides. The drums were in the lead, followed by 60-80 young women about high school age, all in identical white tops and silvery skirts that reflected the light as they danced. The brass band came next, then five guys in black who were dancing so energetically that we could not imagine anyone having that kind of stamina at this altitude. Follow this elite group were another 60 or so young men, also in identical white outfits. We finally got to sleep, but not until well after the parade had passed. We still don't know what they were celebrating.
We left LaPaz this morning, heading for Copacabana. Although it is a Saturday morning, when traffic supposed to be lighter, it took more than an hour just to get out of the city. Gridlock moves slowly. The people who were taking the cable cars, over our heads, were moving along just fine.
Most of the traffic is other vans like ours. The standard 12 passenger van is everywhere. They are privately owned, but offer bus service. Most have signs on top that indicate their "sindicato" or affiliation. Just because you own a van and want to make money taking people on a route doesn't mean you can do it safely. The syndicate that has that route will run you out of business if you don't join. It's part union, part mafia. But there are thousands of these vans on the street, and it's how many residents of La Paz get around.
The countryside looks something like the American West -- land that isn't good for growing much. Buildings -- all of the same red clay brick that is the city of La Paz -- are scattered around haphazardly. Nearly all of them are under construction. Buildings under construction are taxed at a very low rate compared to finished structures, so most building are never completed. We saw cattle and sheep grazing, and occasional small plots of potatoes or beans. None were more than a half acre or so.
Snow-capped Andes mountains were on the horizon as we kept climbing on the twisting roadway. Most of it was paved, but our driver was all over the road avoiding the myriad potholes. Sometimes the pavement would end, and we would drive on gravel for a mile or so before picking up pavement once again. Williams, our tour leader, brought up an app on his phone to show our altitude. It peaked briefly at 14,150 feet above sea level.
After a couple of hours, we got our first glimpses of Lake Titicaca, the largest fresh-water lake in South American and the highest navigable lake in the world. At one village along the shore, our van turned off and we made a stop. First, some women demonstrated their weaving technique and some of their wares. Then we went inside a building where there were all sorts of things related to the reed boats that natives have used for centuries on Lake Titicaca.
We learned that this family has been making such boats for generations, passing the trade from fathers to sons. We also learned that when Norwegian explorer Thor Heyerdahl, famous for his Kon Tiki voyage, set out on his Ra adventure in the 1960s, he came to this family for the expertise needed to construct his giant reed craft. Family members traveled the world with Heyerdahl and became partners in several expeditions. The room was filled with Heyerdahl memorabilia and models. We even sat on "sofas" made of reeds that are of the same construction as the boats.
Driving on along the lakeshore, we passed miles and miles of hillsides that had been terraced for agriculture, but were now barren. The terraces date back to the Incas, and were built more than 600 years ago. But terrace farming is labor intensive, and modern agriculture can produce more food more cheaply using fertilizers and machines on flatter land. The ancient terraces are eroding away.
At one point, it was necessary to cross a small narrows to get to the other side of the lake. There is no bridge. Vehicles and their drivers cross on some of the most decrepit barges one can imagine, while passengers cross on equally decrepit wooden boats. The boats and barges jockey for docking space just like the passenger vans of La Paz jockey to get through crowded streets. It's amazing more vehicles don't wind up on the bottom of the lake!
On the way across, we saw the second largest naval base of the "Armada Boliviana." As a land-locked country, it's a bit ridiculous that Bolivia should have a navy at all. But the border with Peru runs down the middle of this large lake, and the two countries don't always get along. The "armada" here consisted of two boats that looked like PT boats from World War II. Probably adequate for catching smugglers.
Finally, we reached Copacabana. First we looked down on it from above -- Lake Titicaca is at 12,500 feet of elevation. Then we drove into the crowded streets. It's a typical tourist town, but we may well be the only Americans here. Most of the tourists are from Bolivia or Peru (so close you can see it across the lake), Argentina, Chile, or other South American countries. The lake is a big draw. Even though it is much too cold for swimming, families swarm the beach and engage in all sorts of boating activities.
But we learned that the larger attraction is actually The Virgin of Copacabana -- a carved figure of the Virgin Mary dating from the 17th century and residing in the Basilica of Copacabana here. At a time when indigenous people were resisting conversion to Christianity, a young member of the Anansayas tribe of Incans carved a figure of the Virgin with indigenous facial features and skin color. Long story short, the figure encouraged the conversion of many.
So, hundreds or thousands of families come here to have their cars and vans blessed by priests on Saturdays, and to attend mass at the Basilica on Sundays. The car blessings involve lots of flowers, and often washing the car in beer or wine.
We walked from the Basilica back to the hotel -- fortunately, almost entirely downhill. The altitude is still sapping us. We enjoyed a nice dinner with our group at our very pleasant lakeside hotel.
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