After a sleepless night on the cold, bumpy train we reached Oruro to find that it was packed with people getting ready for Carnaval, the city’s biggest 3-day celebration of the year. Rio de Janiero is best known for its insanely huge festival of music, dance, and booze; however, we soon discovered that Oruro—surprisingly—holds the second-largest Carnaval celebration. So, naturally, we darted out of there as quickly as possible.
We reached La Paz without a hitch—without sleep—but without any trouble. According to anecdotes from our fellow travelers, we expected La Paz—particularly the bus station, taxis, and busy markets—to be the most dangerous of our travels thus far, so saying that we got through all of the above in a matter of an hour or so is something to brag about.
When we got to our hostel, we primped. Primping in the poorest country in South America after five days without the luxuries of running water and electricity is quite relative. In lieu of painting nails, deciding on which pretty outfit to wear, and putting on makeup, primping becomes taking a shower that is heated by visible electric wires (I was shocked twice, but it was well worth it), cleaning deserts of sand out of our ears, and cutting fingernails that have collected some mysterious black crud that just won’t wash away.
DAY 27
After a good night’s rest and a hearty breakfast, we headed out into the streets of La Paz. Our hostel was located in Mercado Negro—the “Black Market” or “Witches Market”. The neighborhood certainly lived up to its name. There were ladies in traditional pleated skirts and bowler hats lining the streets in all directions selling everything from bright Carnaval decorations to dried llama fetuses (which locals bury under their houses for good luck). Within a few kilometers radius, there were different “departments”. One quadrant of streets was dedicated to the sale of lighting and electric supplies, while another was dedicated solely to puffed corn and quinoa. The most unappetizing of all departments had to be the streets filled with raw meat. Llama, fish, beef, and pig parts were piled high, often only separated from the ground by a dirty blanket with flies and other insects digging their way into the animal flesh.
After getting lost in the maze of street vendors, we found “Artisan Alley”, a quieter, but more gringo-filled area full of jewelry, clothing, and crafts for sale. After a little bargaining and shopping around, we were exhausted by the high elevation and steep streets. We grabbed some street food and headed back to the hostel for some rest before heading back out for dinner.
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