2CanRide: Part 22 Crash Recovery, Cultural Discovery, Nov 17

Day 246 – Rio Cuarto, Argentina, 2,000 Km south of Sucre (30 Nov 2017)

Being forced to stay put during recovery from the crash has changed our perspective. We have learned much about Bolivian culture in recent weeks. Bolivianos in Sucre have welcomed us into their homes and into their families. We have accompanied them to sporting events and school plays. We have visited city sites and run errands together. We have shared food, conversation and much laughter. Discussions in Spanish with Marisol, our Spanish teacher, have covered topics like courtship and marriage, indigenous issues of the two dominant cultures (Quechua and Aymara), family structures and traditions, local and international politics, food as well as crime and safety.

25 de Mayo Plaza, Sucre

Dinner Party Chez Bertha (on left)

Spirituality here, like most places we have visited in the high Andes, blends Catholicism with ancient beliefs. We were privileged to spent a Bolivian “Todos Santos” (All Saints Day) with our hosts, Bertha and Pepe. Pepe’s father passed away in May. According to Bolivian tradition, the official celebration of his life will be held on Todos Santos in the following calendar year but Pepe decided to prepare a small shrine for his father this year and he invited us to share a prayer in a small ceremony. There was a photo of his father accompanied by offerings of food to be shared.

Later that afternoon everyone from “Homestay Bertha” (Young backpackers: Christopher and Nicolas from Germany, Roxanne and Gabrielle from Belgium and Marina from Lichtenstein who, on a gap year, is volunteering with school children for six months) went with Bertha and Pepe to the home of Pepe’s colleague and friend. The life of Jose Luis’ father was being celebrated in full fledged Todos Santos tradition. Here in Bolivia on November the first, indigenous tradition “Dia de los Muertos” (also known as Dia de los Difuntos, or Day of the Dead) has been mixed with Catholic “All Saints Day”. Bolivian families gather to welcome the returning dead for one last day before they permanently ascend to eternal life.

The Shrine to Jose Luis' Father

Viewed as a celebration of reciprocity, this is the time of the year when the celebrated one gets to enjoy an array of earthly delights provided by their families. In return for this kind gesture the spirits bring spring rains, ensuring bountiful crops in the coming year.

Tantawawas

Celebrations begin at midday with a big feast (almuerzo) held by families to honor the departed. A shrine to the deceased is set up. The shrine is laid out with photos and religious objects, baked bread effigies (called tantawawas), which can also resemble ladders to help in the climb to heaven, and many of the deceased’s favorite foods and drinks. Sugar cane may also be included on the altar to be used as a cane to guide those buried to return to earth. Coca leaves, tobacco and cups of fermented corn may also have been laid on the cloth. Candles are placed to light the way for the return of the deceased.

Mmmm, Mondongo! (L. to R. Isa, Bertha, Pepe, Roxanne)

The main dish served is mondongo, which consists of spicy pork accompanied by rice, potatoes and corn (called choclo). This is washed down with copious amounts of chicha (a fermented corn drink) and singani (a spirit made from white grapes grown at altitude). Drinks may be served in a circle, with each person in turn inviting their neighbor to drink. At our celebration people walked around with pitchers and a shot glass, offering to share strong drinks. It is customary to spill a sip on the ground for Pachamama (Mother Earth).

Sharing Chicha

Guests (for example, us) are often invited, sometimes visiting many separate families throughout the day. We were greeted with the obligatory chicha and singani, before tucking into the delicious mondongo and the drinks which accompanied it. After the food, everyone stood and faced the shrine. A trumpeter played a tribute, some prayers were said and the deceased’s daughter, dressed in black for more than a year, made a short speech. Afterward, she left only to return in more celebratory clothing, that wasn’t black.

During her absence, someone cranked up the sound system and the dancing began. Pitchers of singani and chicha were carried around all night and glasses offered, “para ti”, even to those on the dance floor. The person holding the pitcher always shares a shot with the invited imbiber. Everyone had a very good time. Bertha had passed around that I was on strong pain medication and was not to be offered alcohol. This kind of celebration is also commonly held at the gravesite of the departed. The website for Sucre’s main cemetery clearly states that alcohol is strictly prohibited – unless one is taking part in Todos Santos proceedings.

Sucre's Main Cemetery

On Saturday Bertha invited us for a family almuerzo and to see the local production of “Jesus Christ Superstar”. The Cochabamba youth orchestra was performing in the pit, there being no orchestral programme in Sucre. The actors, stage and production crew members were senior students from Sucre’s Montessori High school.

We arrived just before the official curtain time of 6:30 pm and found our reserved seats. We had rushed worriedly to make it on time and were surprised to see the theatre mostly empty. We felt disappointed for the young performers. The show began promptly at 7:15 to a packed house. Timings are met differently in the southern hemisphere. Spirited youthful energy filled the night. The characters and songs of JC and Mary Magdalen stood out. Isabelle and I were happy to be sitting back, unstressed, witnessing the result of months of work by the students and their dedicated teachers and coaches.

On Monday it was time to see the doctor. Dr. Torres took off plastic binding tape (no stitches) and declared everything to be perfect. I was scheduled to see him again in two weeks, hopefully for the last time.

Dr. Torres

The following weeks featured numerous lunch and dinner parties at Homestay Bertha. Everyone took a turn cooking. We met with Frank and Roxana several times, often getting together with other moto travelers who were passing through. On separate occasions, we met Tom from Germany (on a CRF250L) and Silvan from Switzerland. Silvan is a genuine alpine cow herder and specialty cheese maker, beginning a 6-month trip on a Suzuki 350. We also met Daren, a GS rider from England at a party at Roxana’s country place.

Rooftop Scene from the Papavero, Roxana and Frank's favorite restaurante for lunch

Isa at the Recoleta, An Overlook of Sucre

Recoleta, a Storm Scene

The Storm Moves On

Recoleta Plaza, the First in Old Sucre

One weekend, Bertha took her guests on a walking tour of the Saturday “Mercado Campesino” (country market). Everything was very fresh and priced well. We sampled puffed corn snacks and “papas rellenas” (stuffed potatoes) from indigenous vendors.

Mercado Campesino, The Fresh Fruit Section

The section called “Mercado de Brujas” (Witch’s Market) was next. Here we saw cures and fixes for everything imaginable. Powders and potions to cure ailments were sold alongside those designed to help with social problems such as jealousies, relationship/marriage improvement, and spell casting – both good and bad.

Mercado Campesino, the Butchers' Section

Icons made of hard, disk shaped sugar can be bought. They represent all manner of wishes for the future, from good personal health to a healthy business. Small bags of charcoal are also sold. The icons are taken home and burned as an offering to Pachamama, who likes sweet things. We passed several people getting a coca leaf reading of their future, on the way out of the market area.

Tarabuco Market

The next day Isa and I took a 1 ½ hour coach ride to the famous Tarabuco Sunday market. It is a regular weekly market offering all manner of things but the textiles make it special. Local indigenous (Quechua in this part of Bolivia) hand weavers displayed their work in one of four main styles. Some of the fine, complicated pieces require months to create. We had been coached in how to distinguish the real thing from the mass produced but we still walked away from the market empty handed. Some of the pieces were stunning but we simply hadn’t brought enough cash.

Marina with Isa in Tarabuco

There were some other tourists in Tarabuco but we mostly saw and heard business being done in the Quechua language. We had invited a house-mate, Marina to join us. It was fun to share the excursion with her. Isabelle called her, “Our daughter for the day.”

Statue in Tarabuco Depicting a Quechuan Warrior Holding the Heart of an Enemy

Several days later we did buy a weaving from a Tarabuco artisan but we bought it from the Textile Museum in Sucre. Oddly, it was better priced and of higher quality than what we had seen in Tarabuco. We shipped it home by registered mail.

An Artisan Working at the Textile Museum in Sucre

The next day we walked to the Migracion office and were granted a second 30-day extension of our tourist cards. It took about 2 minutes this time. Bolivian bureaucracy has been the most efficient and pleasant we have seen so far. That evening, our three children were featured in a crowd shot from a televised hockey game back home in Canada. It was Military Appreciation Day.

Some Lazy Days in Sucre

Emma, Christian, Gabrielle at the Game

Feeling better in the shoulder I decided to take out my tools and repair some of the problems with the bike. The damage was minor and repairs made were:

o Glued the fractured/smashed plastic air deflectors. I knew I would find a use for the “Crazy Glue” I brought from home. They look a bit like Frankenstein’s face now but at least they work. I’ll get new parts from BMW back home.

o Bent back (not completely successfully) the windshield sliding adjusters. The windshield still sits a little crookedly – but is unbroken!

o Banged the right-side aluminium panier back into shape.

o Made fine adjustments to ensure the lid fit properly and the panier is water tight again. (This was tedious)

o Removed the right-side panier mounting rack from the bike, took it to a welder to fix a break

o Had him straighten a second mounting arm on the panier rack

o Ignored the big “ding” in the muffler, caused by a lateral blow from the panier rack. The muffler was not punctured and there has been no loss of function.

o Realigned and secured all rack mounting bolts.

o Re-torqued all crash bar bolts. The crash bars clearly saved the bike from serious damage as it tumbled.

o Silicone coated all exposed metal (e.g. at a new weld or to cover flaked paint at a site bent during the crash) to prevent rust.

Sight-seeing in Sucre

A few days later Frank and I went on a two-hour test ride. He needed to test Rosie (his BMW R100 Paris – Dakar) after some repair work had been performed. He had heard a strange, loud sound above 80 KPH when he rode my bike back from Uyuni. I guessed that one of the fractured plastic air deflectors had been vibrating like a reed. I hoped the repaired deflectors would eliminate the noise. We found a stretch of empty 4 lane highway and I brought my speed up to 160. There was no abnormal sound. The bike felt fine and there was no pain when I rode. Everything was falling into place to allow for a departure toward Argentina the next day.

We were anxious to move southward again. The “southern cone” countries are filled with new people, places and adventures. On one hand, we had patiently endured a sense of forced waiting for the past month. On the other hand, we had the privilege of being introduced to unique cultural experiences and to some people in Sucre who have become special to us. Leaving them would be tough.

They are:

- Marina, a gentle, giving young woman from Lichtenstein who is volunteering with Bolivian school children for six months. Marina, we loved your “spaetzle”. Did I get the correct spelling?

- Marisol, our patient Spanish teacher. She led us through discussions of Bolivian culture and traditions that opened our minds to new things. The day we compared Spanish and English cursing words was amusing. Marisol, I will only print the euphemism you taught us, “Ahhh, Miercoles!”. (Miercoles means Wednesday but sounds like something else.)

- Pepe, the children (Luciana and Mateo), but especially Bertha our generous host and mentor of Bolivian culture. Countless discussions and explanations combined with her gentle corrections of our Spanish nudged us forward, allowing us to scratch the surface of understanding. Bertha, gracias por tu ayuda y tu ensenanza.

Bertha with Isa

- Frank and Roxana, our friends in Sucre. Frank is a seasoned world traveler who is always happy to share stories and travel recommendations. His warm, generous spirit draws one in, from first meeting. Roxana is a well-known business-woman and member of the Bolivian community. At a restaurant, a festival or just when walking down the street, the constant greetings she receives from passersby confirm the depth her roots are planted in Bolivian soil. During crisis time these two knew just what to do, who to see, how to get me fixed up.