Bittersweet

Why is it that you fall in love with a city right before you are about to leave?

Couchsurfers come in all the time and rave about how they love La Paz, and I never really understood it. It's cold. It's really freaking high, which means your colds last a month (and everyone gets a cold). But somehow it has crawled under my first layer. It's just there making me comfortable. Making me a little warm. Paying my 21 cents to work everyday (42 if I splurge on a taxi). Buy my two salteña breakfast for 98 cents. Watch the little Bolivians, dressed in zebra costumes, teach the public to cross on the black and white lines. Somehow walk into a fiesta/parade/festival every day.

And now I have to start planning to leave. Clean, pack, plan. It's been 6 months and NOW it hits me. Why now?

Winter Solstice in June

8:30 Bus is leaving to Tiwanaku
8:45 Buying rum
9:00 Arrive at bus
9:30 New departure
Get on Bus
10:00 Bus leaves
1:00am Bus Arrives

Walk to the center plaza, there is a party set up the size of carnaval. 5000 drunk people equipped with a stage and band. We danced all night long. The bitter cold was enough incentive to keep the beat going. As the sun started to rise, all 5000 (well let's assume 1000 were too drunk to move) people ran to the ruins to praise the gods. The bonfires stretched into the sky and flags blew in the air. As the sun peered over the hill each person raised their hands towards the sun. The warmth was pure sensation after the cold night. The party continued till about 10am. We sat and drank a coffee to try and sober up before the long bus ride.

10:00 am Bus Leaves
12:00 Arrive La Paz
15 minutes 8 stumblers make it back to the house and crash in all parts of the house.
5:30 pm Wake up to two friends standing over me that had not yet been to sleep.
6:30 Ate a combo of Breakfast, Lunch and Dinner. A brunchner.



What a party