Arrived Puerto Iguazu

We’re in Puerto Iguazu. We got a hostel with some people we met on the bus. An American and a German girl and a British couple. The bus ride ended up being 25 hours because about 2/3 of the way, we hit a motorcyclist! I honestly can’t tell you what happened because Tim and I slept through the whole thing. He was injured but not killed. We sat and waited for another bus to come for over an hour and a half and we didn’t even know. I had in ear plugs and was in pure REM. Strangely the ride wasn’t terrible though. Argentinian buses are more similar to Cruz del Sur Peruvian buses. Bolivian buses suck. No bathroom or heat.

Anyway. I also scored hugely by reserving seats 3&4 of a double decker. This puts you sitting right in front, above the driver in a complete panoramic. It also let us put our semi-cama seat back a little further. At the end of the ride when we started hanging out with this group, we pulled out our guitar and played a little. Good times.

Now we’re having drink from the supermarket and eating snacks. Heading to dinner soon. We are two hours ahead of the midwest now and four to California. Tomorrow is supposed to be a bit rainy, but we will likely still go to the falls. We hear we can go a second day then for half price. We are still looking into traveling to the Paraguay and Brazilian sides.

We will be at this wifi hostel tonight and tomorrow, so we will be around. Love to all!

Potosi Mines

We somehow made it to Potosi. True, we just got a bus ticket headed for there, but it’s never quite that easy. We were the only gringos on the bus, and the bus stopped often along the way. We were afraid we wouldn’t know when we reached Potosi. It turns out they let us know, but we were the only ones exiting there. Also there was a very cranky native woman behind me who wouldn’t allow me to enjoy the semi cama I had paid for. That’s just the seat going back a smidge so you can maybe sleep. Did I mention the bus also had no toilet? For an 11 hour ride? Our driver hauled ass though, and we arrived in Potosi at 4 in the morning. Uh…. we thankfully found a taxi driver to take us into the center of the city where more hostels were. Still, our option was limited to paying for a triple room. Most other places were full or expensive. Or not answering their doors at 4 a.m. We still don’t know if we are paying for a full second night, even though we only slept in the room 4 hours earlier. Whatever. We needed more sleep after the bus trip. Overnights are not always worth it. You know, saving the night’s room fee.

Today we did make it into the famous Potosi mines. The Spanish started mining here in the 16th century- back when the mines yielded almost pure silver. Now, the miners come out with a compound that would be more like 8% silver 5% zinc and 3% lead. The miners work in families, and entire families work in the dangerous mines. There is no other product in this region. They are too high up for agriculture, and their river is tainted by the waste of the mines.

About 5000 men and boys work in the mines around the city. They do not work as a cooperative but each own their own sections to mine. It is obligatory and expected to work in the mines. Our guide, who mines during off tourist season, was told by his father to not be a sissy. That his brothers were waiting for him in the mines. He started working there at age 13. This is when he learned to handle explosives, which you can buy off the street here. You know if you go to work in the mines and do not leave that you will be dead by 55 from lung maladies. Our 30 year old guide had already worked in the mines 17 years. Once there over 25 years, you know you will die. Another 40 or so miners die each year in accidents. Drinking is rampant and dangerous in the mines. Most of the men work 6 days a week from 12 to 18 hours a day. Some work 7 days a week, and since headlamps are the only light, some will push even longer. The more time in the mine, the more money. The amount of money makes all the difference. A bolivian working in a restaurant or internet place like I am in, might make 350 Bolivianos a month. There’s about 7 bolivianos to a $1. The miners might make up to 1200. Most boys only have three years of school or so. They all speak their first language, Quechua. Here most are bad Spanish speakers and few learn English. The miners have between 5 and 7 children and are stuck in the lifestyle. Our guide’s grandfather was one of 11. Many parents say their children will only work in the mines a year or two and then they will send them on. But it rarely happens. They stay, and then start families of their own.

We went into the mines today, but it is not a place for tourists. It is a working mine. Though the one we went into is 500 years old and surely safer than others. We were in full gear with overpants, jacket, heavy duty headlamp on our helmets, knee boots etc. I wore a mask for the dangerous dust, though our two hours in the mine is nothing to their 25 years. A tourist has never died in the mines. The Death Road in La Paz would be so much worse. Still, we were walking through mud, crawling on hands and knees at times, moving out of the way for mining cars, avoiding falling into shafts etc. Between the altitude and the mines, it was hard to breathe sometimes. On the 4th level down, it got very hot. They did have a crude ventilation system. Before going into the mines, we bought gifts for the miners: dynamite, soda, and coca leaves. The men chew coca to stave off hunger. Eating in the mines makes them ill. We were strongly discouraged from buying alcohol or cigarettes, both of which is awful for their already short lives. Our guide carried the gifts and each time we stopped to talked to the miners, he would offer them something. So we were able to talk to the miners through a translator and ask questions. It was pretty intense.

After we got out, our guides rigged up some dynamite for us, let us hold it and watch and then ran down the road to set it off for us. Crazy!

Tomorrow we hope to catch a day bus to Uyuni where we will see the infamous salt flats. Though 4-day tours are common, we will opt for a 1-day most likely so we can get on to Argentina. As usual, we will be in touch when we can.

Love to you all! I hope this email makes sense. It’s always hard to write so fast and furious in the small amounts of time we have.

Greetings from La Paz!

Hello to you all! Thanks for any well wishes you sent our way. The strike in Peru had actually ended, and we had no problems getting a bus out of Cusco. We decided to pass on Puno since we were so eager to get out of Peru and move onto Bolivia. Country 14 for me! Woohoo. Instead we headed straight to Copacabana, which is on the Bolivian side of Lake Titicaca.

We may have missed some of the larger reed cities, but we did see some on the Bolivian side. They were smaller and more to show tourists what the cities had been like. But just 5 of us, Tim, me, and some people we had met on the bus from Cusco, were being shown by a local in a completely non-tourist area. He took us out on his own boat, and while out there, showed us his trout nets. Later he introduced us to his cows and sheep and showed us how his daughters and wife made little dolls to be sold in town.

That was the major thing we did our first day in Copa- in an outskirt town I can’t guess how to spell. Tim was finally over his fever, but now I had come down with a decent chest cold, including a constant drip, deepening cough, and fading voice/sore throat. It’s actually quite amazing how many travelers are sick. Not surprising with the weird manifestations of altitude coupled with dramatically changing temperatures and pushing one’s body to extremes. During our route to Machu Picchu, we had slept outside in freezing temps at the foot of Salkantay and trekked through the jungle getting bitten by flies and mosquitoes. (Side note to say we saw and held a monkey at one of the campsites on the trail. It was a highlight for both of us!!) One would also be surprised at what level of cleanliness they can become accustomed. Don’t worry, mine is still decent but I avoid cold showers at all costs.

Our hostel in Copa is our record low at $12 a night for both of us with a private room and bathroom. It was actually an awesome room with two windows on one wall and one huge one on the wall viewing Lake Titicaca. I watched morning break and the sun set through that window.

After a lot of sleep, we headed to Isla del Sol, an island out on the lake that held significance for the Inca. I believe the first Inca came from here and that the sun and moon would rest at the sacred rock on the island. Our tour was not very good, and it was mostly a long walk across the island. But the views were beautiful. The visit included an 90-minute boat ride both ways that was pretty cool as well. That was yesterday, and Tim and I got a lot of sleep again last night. We’ve both really needed it.

Today I feel a bit better, though my voice has taken flight. We woke early this morning, and I had time for three cups of tea before we headed out. We walked to Cerro Calvario, a small mountain overlooking the town on which the stations of the cross are set. Pilgrims climb the rocky path and stop to pray. The natives would buy a bag of small rocks or corn (? it was hard to tell) at the bottom of the hill and then toss one onto each cross statue as a remembrance of their prayer. There were gorgeous views of the lake and the town and mountains at the top. Tim and I said a rosary together. Following the lead of locals, we bought a small candle and put it in an alcove with a prayer for our marriage and future.

Then we got on the bus and came to La Paz! We are excited to be here, but are taking it easy tonight. We went into a hotel right where the bus dropped us off in the middle of town. We had decided to splurge on a nicer hotel while the prices would be so low, and we are quite contented. Our hotel has a space heater, very hot water, wifi, cable tv, and warm beds. All for $22. I promised everyone we would splurge from time to time, it being our honeymoon and all. Tomorrow we will root around the capital city a little.

I should also mention the border crossing before I finish up. It was wild. We were on a bigger, nice bus for 12 hours or so before being let off and into a smaller collectivo van heading to Copa. The bus was headed to Puno. It stopped at the border where we went through an exit process with Peru. Then we walked with our things across the border. Tim and I had been aware of the extra Visa fee Bolivia charges to just Americans, but the price was $135 each not $120 like we somehow thought. We were a few dollars short and took borrowed money from busmates. We were still concerned over whether they would take it, as some of our bills had small tears and creases. You would be amazed how they treat the dollar. It has to be in perfect condition. They did end up taking the money, but they also insisted on copies of our passports and yellow fever inoculation cards. The guy reluctantly let us slide by without presenting photos of ourselves on a red background for them to keep. Oops, I guess we hadn’t thoroughly read through the crossing instructions. But do note, they didn’t ask for passport copies from any other nationality. So when you go to Bolivia, remember they don’t just rip you off, they also nitpick like crazy. I know they do this because of something Americans require of them, but the $270 we paid to get into the country is A LOT of money down here. No comprendo completely.

Happy Independence Day!