Well, folks, I’ve made it to La Paz. If you’re still reading this, welcome to the next leg of my trip.
World’s highest capital? Well, maybe.
La Paz, at over two million people, is Bolivia’s largest city. La Paz stands at 3640 meters above sea level, making it the world’s highest capital city. Sort of. Maybe.
Actually, this is quite controversial, since La Paz is only one of two Bolivian capitals, the other being Sucre, and the question as to which is the legitimate capital is the subject of great debate. Also, depending on your politics, you might need to include Lhasa, Tibet’s capital, which, at 3656m, is actually slightly higher than La Paz.
Anyway, however you land on the highest capital city debate, here are a few fun facts about La Paz:
- Water boils here at 88 degrees Celsius.
- People who fly into La Paz will actually notice a drop in air pressure when the cabin doors open. This is because the air is thinner outside than in the pressurized cabin.
- La Paz’s stadium is the only one in the world above 2500m that is FIFA-certified for football matches. When players from other countries come here, they suffer from the elevation.
- On the other hand, golfers love La Paz, because they can drive the ball several yards further at this altitude than they would be able to at sea level.
- La Paz’s official name is actually Nuestra Senora de La Paz (Our Lady of Peace), which makes me wonder if Raine Maida ever visited here.
Boat across the lake
I arrived here last night after a comfortable and pleasant four-hour bus ride from Copacabana. On my bus were Solvejg, the German girl I’d met yesterday on Isla del Sol, as well as the usual assortment of Canadians, Australians, Brits, and miscellaneous others. On the way out of the town, the clouds rolled in and we were treated to a pretty spectacular thunderstorm. The sunset just beyond the clouds made for a pretty awesome view.
About an hour into the journey, we stopped at a ferry port, disembarked, and then — and I wouldn’t believe this if I didn’t see it with my own eyes — the bus drove onto a small raft-like thing and actually crossed the lake. Yeah, I suppose it was technically a ferry, but it looked like nothing more than a tiny raft, Tom Sawyer-style. I was pretty amazed that the whole thing didn’t just sink. Meanwhile, we crossed on a small speedboat, which only took about seven or eight minutes, though the bus took much longer. We hung out on the other side at a small convenience store, where the local street dogs were well versed at begging for food.
The rest of the bus ride was fairly uneventful. We watched another movie, got free popcorn and bottled water, and dozed a bit. Bolivia Hop, you’re all right.
The drive into La Paz is quite something at night. From a ring road through the ugly outskirts of the city, you can see down into what looks like a giant bowl of city lights. It’s quite a view. Of course, once off the ring road and into the city, we got snarled in terrible traffic. The bus took a good hour or so to drop everyone off at their respective hotels and hostels. Door-to-door service; it’s nice, I tell ya. But it’s definitely jarring to be back in a big city after the relaxing time I spent at the lake. Chill out time is definitely over.
The hotel here is all right — plenty of hot water in the shower, functional WiFi, and comfy beds — everything a girl can ask for. I got a double room to myself last night, since my roommate for the tour doesn’t arrive until today. By the time I arrived, it was pretty late, so I just had a shower and fell into bed.
Getting to know La Paz
This morning after breakfast, I set out from the hotel to walk the few blocks to the San Francisco church to join a free walking tour to get an overview of the city. We were a small group — just me, a Chilean guy, and a Belgian guy named Koen who — as it turns out — is also on my tour of Bolivia that starts tonight. Like I said, small world.
The walking tour was excellent. We were led by an extremely knowledgeable guide named Daphne around all the city highlights for the next three hours.
Llama fetuses or witch doctors, anyone?
We started off at San Francisco Plaza, where we learned the history of the church and of the founding of the city, and the way in which the Franciscans tried to convert the local indigenous people over to Catholicism by integrating elements of both religions. To this day, these traditional beliefs have survived, and have formed a sort of hybrid Christianity where people pray to both Jesus and Pachamama (mother earth). Not unique to the colonized world by any means, but interesting nonetheless.
We next headed over to the Witches’ Market, famous — or infamous — in La Paz as a tourist attraction. But really, it existed long before that, and the women who run the shops actually do a bustling trade helping people purchase and set up offerings to the Aymara gods. The offerings to Pachamama are the most elaborate, and usually consist of custom-made candied versions of what you’re wishing for. Those to the god Ekeko are miniaturized versions of whatever you’re wishing for — anything from a wedding to a new car to a flat-screen TV. Ekeko is represented as a rather portly Spanish man who bears a not-so-coincidental resemblance to former La Paz governor Sebastian de Segurola. The legend goes that, during an uprising of the local indigenous people against the Spanish colonialists, the Spanish side of the city was put under siege and the locals were starving, but the governor was eating well due to a maid he had working for him who was secretly smuggling in food. When confronted, he couldn’t admit to the source of his food, so he made up a story that he was praying to the god Ekeko for food and had his prayers granted. When asked to describe the god, he wasn’t very imaginative, so he described himself. And the rest is the stuff of history.
At the witches’ market, there are also lots of baby llama fetuses hanging from the ceiling. These are used extensively by local witch doctors in rituals for everything from construction projects (buried under the foundation for good luck) to cures for ailments. Daphne was insistent that the llamas aren’t actually killed for this purpose, but only ones who died naturally are used. I’m not so sure; there are an awful lot of them.
From the Witches’ Market, we headed to the regular open-air market, where the ladies sell fruits, vegetables, flowers, and all the usual items. The market was pretty small today, it being a weekday, but it’s apparently quite big on weekends.
A brush with the law
Next, we headed up to San Pedro Square, site of the church for which it is named and — more importantly — the infamous prison. This is a story worth telling: The prison was once designed for no more than a few hundred inmates, but today holds over 2,500. In a weird sequence of events, the prison is essentially no longer guarded except by a handful of police on the outside. Inside is completely run by the inmates themselves, in an elaborate system that has the rich inmates basically running things, building themselves elaborate apartments, while the poor sleep in overcrowded conditions on the floor.
The inmates have formed their own society, complete with local rules and strict enforcement. Books and documentaries have been made about this bizarre prison. Weirdly, the prison used to actually run “tours” and was one of La Paz’s most popular tourist attractions! Until things went wrong, as they do, and the tours were discontinued.
Then, I made the mistake of taking a photo of the prison, not realizing it wasn’t allowed. A police officer noticed and took exception, and started heading in our direction. I quickly deleted the contraband photo but it was too late. The officer came over and said something to Daphne, and she turned pale. Oh, ****. This isn’t good. He then kept talking in a rapid-fire Spanish for a while, and I tried to catch some of it. It sounded like he was threatening Daphne with arrest, and I started to panic. But then, a second later, he burst out laughing, put an arm around her, and then proceeded to give a ten-minute history and crash course about the prison to us in Spanish. Go figure. I was afraid of the worst, and that it would be all my fault. But it turned out he just wanted to play tour guide. I guess he was bored?
Coups, flags and pigeons
From there, we headed over to Plaza Murillo, passing by the statue of Simon Bolivar, as well as a number of government buildings including the Vice-Presidential Palace, the National Bank, and the imposing new Presidential Palace that’s under construction by Evo Morales.
We entered Plaza Murillo, the central square of the city, which has a statue of Bolivian revolutionary Pedro Murillo in the centre. And also hundreds and hundreds of pigeons. It reminded me of San Marco Square in Venice, or other similar plazas where people go to chase pigeons and hopefully not get any pigeon poo in their hair in the process. Really, pigeons are gross. Winged rats, the lot of them. But anyway.
Plaza Murillo is surrounded by a whole bunch of important buildings, including the La Paz Cathedral, the National Art Museum, the Grand Hotel Paris, the National Congress of Bolivia, and the ill-fated former Presidential Palace. It’s still the official residence of the Bolivian President, but no president has lived there in decades — perhaps superstitious due to the ill fate of so many of them. Bolivia has been independent for 191 years and in that time has had 189 coups d’etat. That’s far and away the most of any country in the world; Thailand is a distant second. Anyway, the building mostly stands empty these days, and is going to be converted into a museum once the new Presidential Palace is complete. We did, however, get a rare glimpse of the Bolivian Vice President, Alvaro Garcia Linera, entering the building, surrounded by bodyguards, an entourage, and a bunch of kids who appeared to be trying to take selfies with him.
In Murillo Plaza, Daphne gave us a crash course in modern Bolivian politics, explaining the three flags flying side by side on the Presidential Palace. I’m a flag geek, so I am a bit ashamed to admit that I had no idea until today that Bolivia actually has three flags. The red, yellow and green one that we all recognize is actually the old flag of the Republic of Bolivia, though people are attached to it so it’s still officially in use. The new flag is a brightly multicoloured one introduced by Morales when he changed the name of the country to the “Plurinational State of Bolivia”. Morales is Bolivia’s first indigenous President, and did this in recognition of the indigenous nations of Bolivia, though the move — and, for that matter, the president — is not universally popular, it seems. The third flag is a blue one representing Bolivia’s claim over the Atacama; this land was lost to Chile in war in the 19th century, but Bolivia has never relinquished its claim, and has filed a case in The Hague to attempt to regain access to the sea.
She also elaborated a bit more on the whole La Paz versus Sucre debate. Basically, La Paz is the de facto and administrative capital, and the place where the government sits and where **** gets done. Sucre is the official capital according to the constitution, and attempts to change that have led to riots, protests and even civil war, so the government leaves well enough alone. Sounds a bit like the constitutional compromises we have back home to avoid poking sleeping bears. Every country has ’em, I guess.
Ghost stories and histories
Next, we headed to Jaen Street, an old narrow cobblestoned street that is rumoured to be haunted. There are plenty of ghost stories to go around, about a black widow who preys on unsuspecting men and so forth. Apparently the police won’t even respond to noise complaints on that street anymore, since so many people hear strange things. Oh, the power of suggestion.
We ended the walking tour at Alonzo de Mendoza Square, where the city of La Paz was supposedly founded. Nobody knows the exact spot, so someone just designated it to be there, and everyone went along with it. Or something.
Going Dutch
After the walking tour broke up, some people went back to the hotel or onto other areas. Koen and I opted to grab some lunch at a nearby cafe run by a Dutch guy, which had a huge Netherlands flag on the ceiling, football on TV, and a giant menu full of European foods. Koen, being from the Flemish part of Belgium, thought it was hilarious that he’d flown all this way to end up right back home, essentially. My pumpkin soup was delicious, but the main reason we chose the cafe was that it had a decent selection of what passes for craft beer in Bolivia. Really, there isn’t much of a beer scene here yet, and the altitude makes it difficult to do much tasting. But we did manage to taste a saison beer made with coca leaves, which is quite unique to this part of the world.
Getting high in La Paz
La Paz is a city built in a valley surrounded by mountains, and every step you take is on an incline, on stairs, or on a hill. It’s also a city with enormous traffic problems. So, what creative solution did they come up with? Why, a public transit system of cable car lines, of course!
After lunch, Koen and I caught a taxi to Plaza Espana, in the southern part of the city. (We passed by the Canadian Embassy there, incidentally, which, hey, good to know, especially if I accidentally **** off any other cops.) There, we walked up a block to the Yellow Line, one of four cable car lines installed in the city since 2014. By 2018 there are meant to be several more lines. But for now, the yellow line, we were told (by Daphne as well as by the Dutch guy who owned the cafe), offers the best panoramic views of the city.
Well, they weren’t wrong. The views were stunning. La Paz isn’t exactly the prettiest city from the ground, but from the air, it’s quite something. We rode up to the top of the line, got off, had a quick look around, and then headed back down, snapping photos all the way through.
Back on tour again
I went back to the hotel to change and relax for an hour or so before heading down to the lobby for the pre-tour meeting. Yep, I’m officially back on tour again, travelling lazy-style for the next ten days. I met our tour leader, a woman from Sucre named Samarah who seems pretty chill. As for my tourmates, I got a flurry of names and countries of origin, but so far, that’s it. My terrible memory being what it is, it will likely take me a few days to get them all down pat.
I did meet my roommate, a Brazilian woman named Alessandra who works for the tour company on their Arctic and Antarctic expedition cruises, which is so cool that I can’t even start. She’s here travelling with her parents. I also met the other francophones and French-speakers on the tour. My attempts to learn Spanish are going to be seriously confounded by all this switching back and forth between French and English.
After the usual paperwork stuff, we headed out for dinner to a nearby restaurant, before heading back to fall into bed. It’s going to be an early start tomorrow.
It’s been a brief visit to La Paz, and surely not long enough to really appreciate what this city has to offer. I’ll be back for another short partial day on my way home, so I’ll see if I can take in a couple more sights at that point. But, meanwhile, the salt flats await! More soon.