To celebrate the new president of the United States of America here a inauguration day post for my readers.
This view is shot directly from our campsite above Lago Titicaca in the morning. The golden fields, the intense blue water and great mountains in the background. Am I still sleeping or is this real?
Morning at Lake Titicaca
Whenever you cross a border in South America you have to fill in the same forms and (sometimes) hope you’ll get a “90 days”-stamp into your passport. This border crossing on the southern side of the Titicaca Lake was particularly crowded and a lot of local people brought goods on their bikes over the river. The sign says “BIENVENIDOS A BOLIVIA - WELCOME TO BOLIVIA”. We really felt welcome now: Not a single time did anyone scream gringo after us, instead very interested people and friendly.
- Border crossing to Bolivia
Bolivia, a country with only 9 million inhabitants but an area of more than 1 million square kilometers. 8 people per square kilometer. That’s 3 times bigger than Germany with roughly a tenth of the population! But massive poverty problems … I was curious. My father had read about bad things, Bolivians killing tourists for their credit cards and so on.
Beside the road a truck had crashed. Not an unusual thing here as the technique is antique, the security standards are non existent and I doubt that the drivers have a legal license or have had driving lessons at all.
- Fallen over truck
Like in the countryside of the Andes in Peru there were really really poor people here. I guess if the statistics in books or the United Nations talk about poor people with less than US $2 a day, those are the people. They walk behind their oxen with the pigs searching for the last crumbs of seed in the fields right next to them. When they’re finished, they go home. Home often stands for a poor adobe hut, one room for a whole family, no tap water, no toilets, often no electricity. Don’t even think about A/C. The hygienic conditions: terrible.
- Altiplano farmer with oxen
At one of the huts in the picture below, where my father and I came really close to this dust and soil sucking tornado, I asked an old woman for the way. She responded in a different dialect … I thought first. I had already met some boys who pronounced the “s” like “sh”, but this time it got worse. I had heard about local languages, indigenous languages and guess it must have been either Quechua or Aymara.
- Elmar and a nearby tornado
There would have been a paved option to the trail in the picture above, but we thought we had found a nice shortcut. And we had! Better than riding on the solo paved road to La Paz we turned slightly south with target of Chara~na. This was the countryside. All the woolen clothes of the children below had probably been manufactured right here, local, sustainable production. Pure simplicity.
They were soooo cute 
and I asked them “Hola, como te llamas?“, what’s your name? A shy and quiet reply, too quiet for my ears, like a gentle breath.
- Local people - two children
Our information from copied on-line maps which we had reviewed during a midday stop in the town of Tiahuanacu, a very important archaeological place, were crap. The map we had in our hands was even worse. The arithmetic means arisen from the two versions didn’t help us much either.
Today mother sun took us by the hand and showed us the right path. In the evening we had come much closer to the planned route than we had thought back then. The campsite was superior: Not recognizable during daylight the city of La Paz flickered in yellow colors during the night like a lake of gold under a clear sky filled all over with tiny diamonds.
The chill on above 4000 m altitude chased me back into the tent quickly though … no chance for a picture let alone build up the tripod!
- Hungry dog coming close
This emaciated friend of mine coming closer and closer chased by the heavy weighing hunger deep inside his belly hadn’t been a friend at all before. Together with another of its kind it ran towards my father and me furiously, making fun of the replies I sent in their direction in the form of 500 g heavy stones. What a soldier now! Dogs seem to work the same everywhere. Their pay being food.
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