COCA

Day 3 in La Paz would turn out to be quite a long one. and then it would become day 4. but I'll get to that in a bit.
First it's critical that I write about what the city actually looks like during the day, since I've talked about the night sky, the day trips outside of the city, and everything but the city itself. On the morning of our first full day in La Paz, we walked out of our hotel and within blocks (really steep blocks, putting san francisco to shame), we were in the heart of the Artesania district. The textiles, ceramics, and artwork were all exploding with color, and I could have spent weeks there planning out how to decorate my next apartment. And on top of it, it was all incredibly cheap. Little cholita women were selling their goods, and there were also some young girls (probably around 9 or 10) selling goods. One of them had a baby sibling sitting on one of the shelves on a big stack of fabric. I pointed to the baby and asked 'cuanto cuesta?' She didn't get the joke, and then I think she was scared I was going to try and steal her little brother.
We meandered through the Witch's Market, through countless stalls selling Llama fetuses, herbs, and whatever remedy you need- love potion, 'medical' remedies, who knows what else. The llama fetuses were pretty nasty, but the idea behind it is that you're supposed to bury it in front of your new house for good luck. I'd rather not, thanks.

After satisfying my every last shopping desire and buying an original piece of beautiful art (worth rearranging the layout of my apartment art), it was time to educate ourselves. We slinked into a back alley and followed the arrows to the Coca Museum, paid our 10 bs to enter, and immersed ourselves in the culture of Coca. The museum was actually quite fascinating. I'm amazed at how important Coca has been in the history of Bolivia. Legends include MamaCoca as one of the Incans' first and most important ancestors, and Coca has been a mainstay of religious/spiritual occasions throughout Bolivia's history. Coca is presented to a future father-in-law to ask for the daughter's hand in marriage, it is offered to houseguests in the same way we offer guests a drink, and it was given freely to slaves to increase their productivity and allow them to work for days without food. Coca is also an enormous point of contention in today's political environment. Evo Morales, the first indigenous President of Bolivia, is a former cocalero (grew up cultivating Coca) and is a very strong supporter of the Coca industry. He defends its cultural/spiritual role and believes that taking away the coca industry will detract from a huge part of Bolivian culture. The U.S. obviously has very different interests and would prefer that the substance that is so easily transformed into Cocaine would not be so widely cultivated and exported to the U.S., but the Bolivians blame U.S. cocaine consumers and not the actual coca leaf.

I could go on and on about the museum- it was really fascinating. This week in clinic I did a little experiment and asked my patients if they use coca. I had a lot of young male patients who work in the sugar cane fields, and each man that I asked said that they use coca to help get them through work. Instead of having coffee with meals and taking Starbucks breaks, they chew coca multiple times a day for productivity.

After taking in more of the city, seeing the Museum of Contemporary Art (where Erin actually purchased a painting off the wall since they're all for sale), it was time for my own coca experiment. I removed the coca leaves from their plastic bag, placed about 7 in my mouth, moistened them until they were in a little ball, and then let them soak at the side of my mouth. Little grean leafy pieces kept escaping down my throat, which is not the correct coca chewing method, and it was obvious from my technique that I was a rookie. I let the coca soak for about 40 minutes until I just couldn't take the strange numbness in my lips and tongue and the nasty green pieces running loose in my mouth, and that was the end of my coca experience. I guess I felt a little bit stimulated, as if I had just had some espresso, but nothing crazy. It actually helped some of us with our altitude sickness a bit (because I forgot to mention all of coca's medical benefits including dilating the bronchioles and therefore increasing oxygen exchange and improving altitude sickness), but that was the extent of it.

The rest of the day we hung out, enjoyed the view from our hotel overlooking the whole city, and then went to the airport. This could be a long story in itself, but since I'm leaving in about 2 minutes for Samaipata (3 hours outside of santa cruz, can't wait) I'll make it brief. When we changed our flight, Erin's flight was somehow not changed and they didn't have any room left on the plane. The weight limit was already exceeded, and it's hard enough for planes to fly out of La Paz because the air is so thin and it's hard to take off. We argued with the AeroSur people for hours trying to get her on the plane, pulling the 'she's a doctor and she has to get to her patients tomorrow' card (which really was true). I was pleased at my ability to articulately get mad in Spanish (especially while a little hopped up on coca and beer), but we were out of luck. The whole situation was a little shady, and people who showed up for their flight 20 minutes after the flight's scheduled departure time got on instead of us. When things were looking futile, I changed my flight so I could stay with Erin. We knew that neither of us should stay in La Paz by ourselves, and she doesn't speak Spanish so it made sense that I stayed. The whole thing was a mess but funny in the end, and not surprising when you're traveling in the 3rd world. Another night drive through La Paz was fine with me. After finally getting booked on a flight for the next morning, and then making it back and forth to the airport for the 10th time, of course our flight was delayed. When we eventually got on our flight, it was worth the wait just to leave in the daytime and experience how it feels to fly through the Andes. I can't even describe how close we were to the Andes-- close enough that Erin felt the need to grab my arm and tremble. I had a different take on it and whipped out my camera to get some of the most gorgeous pictures I've ever taken. It was stunning and horrific at the same time.

Clinic this week was really interesting and sad, but hopefully I'll have time to write about it when I get back from Samaipata. Ciao!