Sandra's Adventures

As I continue to determine who I am and where I want to go next, I've met some great people, seen and experienced some amazing adventures, learned about amazing ways of life and fuelled my desire to continue exploring and learning! Here's a taste...

Saturday, February 17, 2007

"Con Madres" - Woman's Day!!!

We recently had "Con Madres" in Potosi, a day celebrating women! (Not to be confused with Mother’s Day, which is on the same day every year in Bolivia on May 27th - my birthday!)

The festivities specific to Con Madres were a bit blurred by a couple things. First, Potosi’s home team had a "futbol" match again Brazil’s ‘best’ team the night before. Potosi Real tied 2-2 (which, although there was disappointment at not winning, there were celebrations nonetheless for not giving away the victory). As a result, there was much fan fare in the streets that seemed to carry over to the next day. Additionally, with the 4 day "Carnaval" commencing 2 days later, there were arguably a lot of people "practicing" for the upcoming celebrations and street parades.

However…

Walking down the street first thing in the morning, the ground in front of all the doorways where women work or live were decorated with scattered flower petals. This is something that the men in their lives are suppose to do, in honor of them. (Nice!)


The areas that typically have women selling fruit on the sides of the streets were replaced by woman selling flower petals:


Then, during the day, men are suppose to buy women extra treats. In my office, us women had a "morning tea" with Bolivian goodies. This was great, since I had run out of oats for breakfast that morning, and was a bit hungry!

However, running out of things for breakfast yesterday ended up being a good thing, since as a result, I headed off mid-day to buy a few groceries. Unknowingly, I put myself in a position to experience "Con Madres" in the markets! Regularly, the markets are almost exclusively women. So, on a day like "Con Madres", the markets ended up being one big party – literally!

I was in the market for 30 seconds when the lady, who I refer to as my "market mom" and normally gives me a candy with my change, saw me and immediately poured me a shot of whiskey.

It’s 11 o’clock in the morning.

From there, wandering through the market to get what I needed, I noticed all the little stalls had trays of shots of various liquids (presumably different forms of alcohol) sitting beside their goods. But – only for the women! After all, it’s Con Madres!

And, as much of a maze the narrow paths in the market are, I was astounded when I came head to head with a marching band weaving their way through the stalls. That was just the start, as the rest of the day was punctuated with random marching bands making their way down the street outside my office.

Even though it was a Thursday, as is every "Con Madres", the festivities grew once night fell. I met up with a couple local friends and headed out to a "discoteca". The patrons at the club weren’t just women – perhaps only 70% were. However, there were "Serpentines" (Bolivian paper streamers meant for ‘good luck’), hanging from the walls and balloons decorating the place in honour of "Con Madres".

Additionally, there was a stage built up in the middle of the dance floor that hadn’t been there the last time I was there. I found out at about midnight why it was there… for the strippers of course! Now, these "strippers" might not be what you would think. When they first came out, I thought they were just part of the crowd – they were fully dressed, with an additional feature of wearing a mask. This wasn’t too uncommon, due to the Carnaval outfits people were already sporting.

But, from the point that they took to the stage and the DJ on the microphone started rallying the crowd, I’m not sure if I was smiling more because I had FUN or if it was because it was FUNNY!

Between their dancing on stage, they gradually (through several appearances) stripped down to the underwear. Watching the crowd, about half the woman were cheering the one. However, the other half were red faced and looking away.


This proved to be entertainment for the strippers. They would come off the stage and dance amongst the woman. Here’s a picture of one of them coming after me...


And after me, going after my friend Evelin (from the redness of her face, you can tell she's one of the ones turning away from the strippers!):


Any overly shy woman would then be dragged up on stage to their horror. The woman in this picture just stood there like a statue after being hauled up on the stage, with her hand over her mouth:



Now, as the only white person in the club, I had a little attention myself, which I am somewhat used to. However, as the night continues on and the alcohol is continuing to be poured, the random guys blowing kisses at me or asking for dances changes to be a little more "pursuing"…

While many men have professed their love to me over the last few months, there was one this night that took the cake. After talking and dancing for half an hour, he "loved" me and wanted everyone to know about it:

Point #1: He felt compelled to hold my hand. When I tried to extricate myself from his grasp, he just held on harder. In fact, when I did get my hand back, I ended up pulling him over in his chair!!!


Point #2: No words necessary for this picture…


Point #3: Even sleeping in his chair, he was able to have a death grip on my hand!


My girlfriends and I made an exit from the club when he was off in the washroom…

I can honestly say that I’ve never had an experience quite like that day… from the market to the night out. And despite the men that don’t understand "I have a boyfriend and am not interested in anything other than being your friend", I think Canada would do well to include such a day in their calendar of annual festivities.

Thursday, February 15, 2007

Flashdance meets Jackie Chan

The hour of aerobics last night flew by.

I’ve never done aerobics before - I’ve always opted to go for a run or a swim. But here in Potosí, where there is no pool and I have never seen someone off running (after all, I am living above 4100m and the city is on a hill…), I thought it was a good idea to go to aerobics when my friend Evelin twisted my arm into joining her.

When I got there for my first session, I was a little uncomfortable. While in Canada I am “average height” (okay, okay, I’m considered “short” by my closer friends), here I’m at least half a foot taller to a full foot than most other women. So that, in addition to my blonde hair / pale skin, makes me stand out in the class. Where this becomes funny, is that when I would mess up what we were doing, so would most people behind since they would be following me instead of the instructor!

I initially described the aerobics here as being equivalent to Flashdance. If you’re not following, let me describe my time-warp back to the 80s:
- Most of the women wear tights, down to mid-calf level.
- Socks are pulled up to mid-calf level if you’re wearing shorts. Otherwise, socks are rolled down to form a donut around your ankle.
- Shoes: a sneaker or something equivalent to a “keds” shoe. (Of course, there are the people that can´t afford "workout shoes", so they´re in their "every day shoe".)
- “Sweat” bands around your head are popular.
- The instructor, the only man in the room of girls, was wearing spandex shorts with running shorts over top, and a mesh tanktop.
- Some of the women wore a plastic jacket type thing under their shirt to encourage sweating during the workout.

Each night seems to be a different theme.
- Monday nights you get a block and it’s like step aerobics. The last 10 minutes you do an arm workout with a broom pole.
- Tuesday nights is just aerobics on the floor, with a killer 10 minute sit-up workout at the end.
- Wednesday nights is kick-boxing.
- Thurdays… repeat of Monday.
- Friday nights: salsa theme.

As per the theme of this blog entry, last night at “Flashdance meets Jackie Chan”, I burst out into laughter a few times. The women here all seem to take their aerobics very seriously. However, my laughter seemed to be a little contagious to the women around me after a few of the things we were supposed to follow along with. Let me explain…

I have never been to a kick-boxing aerobics class. So, for all I know, it MIGHT have been a “normal” class. However, there were a few moments that stood out above others.

First of all, the music. I felt like I was PART of the computer games that many of my ex’s have played over the years. On beat, there would be sound effects of people getting punched, hit, kicked, etc. At some points, there was even the sound of blood spraying after an especially good hit, or the sound of someone groaning.

Of course, the instructor had our moves all coordinated to these sound effects. So, we were giving our jabs or upper-cuts timed with audible results!

Then, came the “intense” moves. It’s not everyday that you get to run across the room and do a flying karate kick leap into the air. But yes, this was timed into a step pattern, where you jumped back a few times, fists in the air, “jumpy boxer” style, then with a knee lifted into the air, you started your forward return, a hop step, and you were jumping in the air, kicking your leg out forward with your arms above your head. Landing on your feet, you were back in your “jumpy boxer” stance, hoping backwards to start it all over again.

Oh, and you had another woman within 2 feet on all four sides of you, so you REALLY wanted to make sure you followed the moves correctly, or you’d have a foot in the head!

Of course, the instructor got REALLY into it, like he was actually a character in one of these computer games. I couldn’t help but laugh at him, being so into it that his facial expression showed satisfaction with the really vicious kicks or fear during the “defense” moves.

Now, the FUNNIEST part, that garnered a few laughs from around me, was this one set. We’d been fiercely fighting and defending for the whole class. But, this one “set” that we did, had us doing a few kicks and punches, then a couple jumps sideways to fall into a lunge… only to then shake our chest! What the hell!! Was that some fighting technique that I missed somewhere along the way? I didn’t even see that one in Charlie’s Angels to distract the people they were fighting!

Either way, I think the instructor appreciated my ability to find humour in what we were doing, since he came up to me after class, grinning and asked if I enjoyed it. I had to be honest: it was great! Ha ha. Now, I wonder if kick-boxing aerobics is this much fun in Canada! I’ll have to see when I’m back there.

Thursday, February 08, 2007

Want to move a lathe?

...Just call up 30 of your closest friends and start pushing it up the street. Don´t worry, bus drivers and other traffic won´t blink twice at having to make a detour down another street when they see you...

Tuesday, February 06, 2007

The Evil Side of Carnaval

Welcome to the season of Carnaval, a time of self-indulgence before Lent. The North American equivalent is Mardi Gras, which happens on the last of the 4 days of the South American Carnaval (i.e. Fat Tuesday). Although Carnaval is only a four day celebration, I was warned that the festivities would start up in the streets as soon as Feb. 1st. And, they weren’t far off. Let me explain…

I was told that the celebrations get quite intense here. However, I didn’t truly appreciate the words of warning about “bringing a change of clothes to work”. Why would I need to do that?

Well, we were 9 hours into February when I had a water balloon land and burst just at my heels on my way to work that morning. Looking back, I saw a bunch of kids around a fountain grinning, filling up more water balloons with the help of empty pop bottles. And, that was just the beginning. I first got wet that evening walking back from work.

I started finding alternate routes to work and wherever I went in the city. At all costs, I avoided streets that were in or around water fountains - especially the “walking” streets, which seem to be ideal locations for water balloon ambushes.

However, it all went to the birds this weekend.

I live in a town here in Bolivia that was founded on a mountain called the Cerro Rico, which has been mined extensively since the Spanish first colonized Bolivia and started shipping the silver back to Spain. Mining is still the main industry here. And, although the Spanish have left, the methods and work in the mine are still the same as they were 300 years ago…. As is the spirit of the miners.

Well, this weekend was Potosi’s “Miners Carnval”. My friends here asked if I wanted to go, and of course I said yes.

So, on Saturday afternoon, I headed out with my friends Helen and Soledad. I had noticed that the amount of kids running around with water balloons had increased from February 1st to the 2nd, but now that it was the 3rd, it seemed to have doubled again. But now, the kids had company in the streets since women had garbage cans full of water balloons for sale. Even each store seemed to have at least a small bucket of balloons on hand.


Walking with Evelin and Helen down the street to catch the bus to the Cerro Rico, the location of the Miners Carnaval, we had a series of water balloons launched at us. However, it was when we rounded the corner, I was introduced to a new “water fight” technique. We were in the unfortunate position of coming face to face with a truck with 8 people in the back, each bucket in hand, and several garbage cans full of water in the middle of the truck bed. As soon as they saw us, the truck veered across the road towards. We all ran, screaming, but were not able to outrun the truck, each getting gallons of water dumped on us.

Welcome to my weekend.

Drenched, we walked back to my apartment, dried off / changed, and made another attempt to GET to the Carnaval. This time, I was wearing my rainjacket.

It was when we got on the bus to go to the Cerro Rico, that I was introduced to another “attack method” during Carnaval: “Espuma” – spray foam in an aerosol can. I was lucky to have found a seat in the back of the bus. We’d only driven about half a block before someone on the street spied the open window on the bus directly in front of me and sprayed foam through it, catching the woman in the seat directly in her face. As we got closer to the Carnaval, it only got worse. Eventually, all the windows on the bus were closed. But, the door was still open (as is typical, so people can hop in and out of the bus whenever then need to). After a horrible attack through the open door of spray foam and water balloons, the whole bus was yelling at the bus driver to close the door!

Have I mentioned yet that all’s fair during Love and War… I mean Carnaval?

So, now we’re at the Carnaval. I was expecting it to be like a fair, with booths set up, and people dancing in the street. And, although that was the case, the main part of Carnaval is a huge parade that goes all day with marching bands and dancers in various costumes heading down the street. It was located at the edge of town, between the indigenous areas (poorer areas) and the Cerro Rico. The parade was heading down a street that was flanked on one side by a hill, and the other side by a walkway and stores.

We made our way down the hill to cross to the other side where we saw a place that was free to watch the parade. When we got to the bottom of the hill, Helen and Soledad snuck through the parade right away, but I had to wait for another opening. Once I made it across, I couldn’t see them. And, in those few minutes that I looked around for them, I was spied by the crowd. When the first water balloon hit me, I thought someone had bumped into me with their shoulder. But, within the next 15 seconds, I was pummeled with probably more than 30 water balloons, as I ran screaming.

What I have learned from Carnaval: The only target that is better than a woman, is a foreigner. With my long blonde hair, I seem to fit the bill on both accounts.

Now with the hood of my jacket up, I walked with Soledad and Helen up the streets along the parade. During this walk, I had a few more experiences of Carnaval. First, were the supersoaker water guns. My legs were a prime target for the various “kids” (ages ranging from 6 – 55) since they weren’t covered by my rainjacket. The biggest target for the spray foam was my face, with people reaching around from behind me and filling my face and hood with foam. Still, I think it could have been worse!

Here’s me, early on after a quick spray foam attack:

I was very tempted to buy a can of spray foam myself, but thought better of it and tried to stay as incognito as possible.

And so, I was able to sneak this photos of a few other woman during the trail endings of an attack by a bunch of guys. The guys were smugly standing back as a one of them go up close for a “face attack” with foam.


The parade itself was incredible. Everyone was dressed up to the nines in various costumes and outfits. They headed down the street doing dances, etc. After every couple groups came along another marching band. It truly was amazing to watch.

The miners all had their respective celebrations that morning. Among them, they make a couple offerings. The first is to the “Pachamama”, the “Earth Mother”, who is to bring them health and happiness over the coming year. The second is to the “Tio”, the “Uncle” of the mine. They offer him coco leaves and alcohol as ‘pure’ as possible, with the hopes that he in turn will grant them minerals from the mountain ‘as pure as possible’.

At this time, they also wrap the “Tio” statues and each other with “Serpentines”… long strips of colourful paper. And, after the alcohol offering to the “Tio”, the rest seems to find it’s way into the mouths of the miners.

Here are some of the miners in the parade with Serpentines around their necks:


As such, most of the miners in the parade were completely drunk. And, as is typical, at least one of their cheeks would be bulging with a wad of coco leaves….


Also, each group of miners would also have a shrine to Jesus in their mine. These shrines were part of the parade.


There were also impressive costumes being worn by the various dancing or musical groups that went by...









And, even the people in the parade weren´t exempt from attacks:


The festivities seemed to be endless (as was the quantity of spray foam, water balloons, etc.). We left to start our walk home around 9pm, since I had promised that I would go out to a discoteque with some friends that night. And so, I made out way home, flanked on either side by Helen and Soledad. Foreigners are not only a target by Carnaval “attacks”, but also but drunks. So, I had my two “protectors” on either side. Something that was really sweet of them, but also rather funny since they are both less than 5 feet and barely came up to my shoulders!


When I got home, despite having my rain jacket on and my hood up most of the time, I still found bits of balloons UNDER my clothes that night! Ha ha.

I was told that although the official day of the Miners Carnaval was on Saturday, it would move into the center of the city on Sunday and continue with just as much force.

It was true.

After my night of dancing, I woke up to the sound of a marching band passing by outside my apartment. Hummm… I had fun watching various parades or people go by during the morning. But, I had a lunch date at the house of my Spanish teacher’s mother, so I was off there for the majority of the day.

On my way home in the early afternoon, I had about a 15 minute walk across town. I wasn’t think when I left the house that morning, but I was completely “unprepared” for what I ran into.

It turned out that the main parade went perpendicular to the way I needed to go. I tried walking parallel to the parade one street over to get around the top of it. But, I reached a dead-end before I reached the end of the parade. I had no choice but to go through it.

I made it about half way across the street before I felt the first water balloon break on my back. That was followed by the hiss of spray foam coming out of aerosol cans. But the time I made it through the parade and the crowd, I was soaked and covered with foam. Luckily, I some how escaped from getting an up close dose in my face!

But now, during the rest of my walk home, I was an open target (since I was obviously already “into” the spirit of Carnaval) for anyone with water balloons, supersoakers or spray foam between there and my house.

I was in my house, drying off for about 5 minutes before I heard the first of many “mini” parades go by outside my house. Apparently, all that is necessary to cruise the streets during Carnaval season is a dancing group and a marching band. So, for the next 3 hours, I had the perfect vantage point from my second story apartment in the intersection of two streets to watch the parades go by. Here’s a “sample” of what I watched:

















It was here that I really understood the spirit of Carnaval. I was watching out my window, when I heard a “sploosh” and a scream from the street below. I looked over and saw my two female neighbours that are about my age, hanging out the window with an empty bucket in hand, laughing at the guys beneath them that were now wet. Now THIS I like. With a smile at them, I disappeared inside my apartment and filled up two containers of water. I sat perched at my window. At the sight of two guys, going up to a woman in the parade and attacking her mercilessly with spray foam, I emptied both containers of water on their heads. This met with cheers from the other women on the streets and my neighbours one window over, and of course a few shouts from the (now wet) guys with the spray foam.

I love that you can see the nice big wet spot on the ground surrounding these guys, as they look around trying to figure out who got them... ha ha


And so, I dragged my 40 Gallon pail of “emergency water” over to the window. Between me and the two girls one window over, we doused countless guys as they attacked women in the streets below. I don’t think I’ve had that much fun in a while. I got pretty good at the timing between dumping water out my window and jumping back while closing the window, to prevent getting hit with water balloons that were then launched my way!

Still, it wasn’t just me and my neighbours defending the women on the streets below. The woman stood up for themselves as well!!!



But others left wet and foamy:


Streets weren’t closed during the Carnaval, even though it was somewhat futile to try to go anywhere but on foot. Here’s a stream of buses lined up the street following one of the many parades:


Being in the corner of my building, I was able to watch parades going it many directions. Here are a few looks up the various streets I can see from the corner of my apartment:




Often, there were collisions at the intersection between different parades, since none of these “mini parades” were technically organized. And while one parade going in one direction would wait for another parade to pass by in front of them, the same rule did not apply to traffic that had been blocked up by the same parade... It wasn’t a deterrent. The marching bands kept playing and people kept dancing as they squeezed up the streets around the traffic!


Later that day, I had to head out from the safety of my apartment to meet up with a few people for dinner. Not wanting to sit through dinner dripping wet, I took a lesson from the local women:


It was fairly easy to pick up a poncho, as there were just as many people selling ponchos as were selling water balloons:


With the end of the Potosi “Miners Carnaval”, I’m just about as tuckered out as this guy...


And, although on Monday morning the streets still smelt like stale beer and urine, it was remarkable how successful the workers were who cleaned up the streets throughout the night on Sunday night!

And so, my lessons on avoiding being a target:
- The best overall protection was the clear plastic poncho (discrete yet functional).
- Second to that was a toss up between my rainjacket or not wearing any jacket at all. When I didn’t have a jacket on, I found it equally effective to walk the streets like you own them, starring into the faces of the would-be-perpetrators, letting you know you were NOT interested in being part of the “fun”. (Of course, all bets are off when you are on the sidelines of a parade.) The problem with the rainjack was that it just wasn’t long enough, but somehow acted as an open invitation to be attacked (and easy for someone to spray UP it).
- The worst was wearing a yellow poncho that Minda and Kasey left for me (sisters of my friend Cedar who came to visit for a day while traveling in South America). It seemed to just be a beacon to anyone with any method of attack to come out of the woodwork and launch something at me! (But, THANKS GIRLS for leaving it... It ended up being the catalyst of a lot of fun!)
- But, in wearing any type of rainjacket, know that your face is now the ideal target on your body!!!!!

It is now February 7th. I have not lasted a single day so far in February without getting hit by a water balloon or spray foam (including last night walking home from aerobics!!!). The REAL Carnaval isn’t until February 18th – 21st. It should be interesting how the rest of the time leading up to Carnaval goes... Or even Carnaval itself! I’m heading to Oruro for it and meeting up there with a bunch of other volunteers from another city in Bolivia. It’s suppose to be “THE” place to be for Carnaval in Bolivia, with the biggest and most impressive parades and excitement. That being said, I’ve also been told some people step up “attacks” a notch by throwing eggs! We’ll see how it goes... At least I’ve had a good practice run!