Explaining the roots of the tensions is both too immense a task and not the nature of this blog so I will just say that this is another chapter in a battle that has been going on in Bolivia for decades. Between the political and economic elites and the poor. Here the term "rich" or "elite" is synonomous with european blood and often localized in the east of the country. The poor are indians and a majority, they are generally leery about neoliberal economic policy and are currently pushing hard to nationalize the oil and gas industries (don't worry these are based in the east too). Carmen Pampa is far from the action, and amazingly unpolitical for a Latin American college. I'm not immediately concerned for my safety.
Aside from the above things have been nice here. I got some grades in for the first 3rd of our semester, and I still enjoy teaching. I went with a few students and Sam to a nearby community to see coffee production in the countryside. We walked on a mountain path which was sometimes rugged, as pictured below, but mostly low key. There were a lot of these really interesting plants called "corta cortas" (cut cuts) that have serrated leaves which grab hold of your cloths and can actually draw blood, trust me. Also we saw some orchids and a lot of ants. The kind of ants you think about as a cover story for National Geographic. The kind that cut big sections of leaves to carry home to their nests. They make tidy little lines across the footpath. Like dozens of little green flags that collapse into gridlock dissarray when you disrupt their flow. Some were really fast and bite hard. The students say they are angry because all they do is eat Coca all day. Also we saw a few trees that belong in a fantasy movie. Pictured above, they are covered in freocious spikes and seemed to be placed conviniently where one would need something to hold on to.
Speaking of Coca, we walked past a lot of fields with workers in them. We knew a couple of the pickers as students from the school, they let Sam and I try our dexterity and pull a few handfuls of leave off. The workers earn about 30B's a day, for 8 hours of work. That's a little over $4, this is the standard pay rate for manual labor. They were as hunched over as they look, after about five min I was ready for an asprine. VERY TOUGH PEOPLE.
We rested along the way in a "carpa" used by field workers during the heat of the day to have lunch in and relax out of the sun. Sitting there in the shade eating fresh oranges looking out on what would be national park quality mountains in the US, I felt as much at peace with my self as I can remember. The following is a crude picture of heaven captured with a 7 megapixle point and shoot camera. Think cool breezes, fresh air, and gracious company.
When we reached our destination there were already dired and husked beans waiting. Normally After picking coffee berries they need to be seperated from the "fruit", washed, and dried in the sun for a while. I get different drying times from everyone I talk to, somewhere between 2 days and a week depending on the weather. Anyway, we put the beans in simple clay pots and cooked them over an open fire. We stirred them frantically with palm branches. When they were close to being ready they made a fantastic ammount of smoke.
After they were roasted we crushed the beans on a flat rock with an oblong stone shaped for grinding. It wasen't easy, it would have deterred me from drinking coffee if it were part of the routine in the states.
I miss everyone back stateside but there is no cure for homesickness like heartbreaking natural beauty and a taste of a simpler life.
LOVE
andy
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