GETTING TO BRAZIL

Another Border Town.

The last 2 weeks of May we spent in Santa Cruz, resting at the house of Gustavo Garcia (Emi’s uncle), who moved from Buenos Aires to Bolivia some 13 years ago. The stay was very pleasant and relaxing, but quite uneventful, as we mostly stayed at the house and hung out with the kids (they have three). Gustavo’s wife Gaby made sure we weren’t hungry by preparing exceptional meals and all sorts of snacks for us 4 times a day. It was like staying at an all inclusive hotel, where everything is done for you, and you are constantly inquired if there is anything else that you might wish. In other words, Garcia-Santarosa’s hospitality was unbelievable! THANK YOU FOR EVERYTHING!

On Monday night, May 28^th, it was time for us to hit the road once again. We debated for a long time which way we should travel to the Brazilian border and what method of transportation we should use. Our options included going through La Paz or through Trinidad by a combination of any of the following: bus, boat, plane and a cargo truck. We decided to go with the most economical and relatively quickest option, which was a bus.

"Country roads, take me home..."

I have taken busses long distance more than once, so a prospective of being on the bus for consecutive 38 hours did not scare me too much. The experience was not scary, but something I do not recommend doing unless you are travelling on pennies like us. Our first over night bus from Santa Cruz to Trinidad was not so bad. Emi made sure we got front row seats which allow for some leg space. As you know, you can’t really call me a tall person, but in Bolivia it is not true, so I had to think about leg space and things tall people usually worry about. I really don’t know how normal size gringos can fit into anything here, if I was having trouble with ceilings and seats. So that night we actually slept, but only until dawn when we were woken up by roosters’ morning songs. I was all confused and thought that the sound was produced by someone’s alarm clock or a cell phone. When the sounds did not stop for an hour of two, it was clear that some of the passengers on that bus were real live roosters. In Trinidad, this was confirmed. 6 “singing” cardboard boxed were unloaded from the back of the passenger deck of the bus. Thank God they were just rooster and not pigs this time.

River Crossing...

In Trinidad, we learned that the next bus to Guayaramerin was leaving within the following 2 hours and I we did not take it we’d have to wait 24 hour for the next one. Trinidad, with its open sewage canals, with accompanying aromas and dust, was not quite appealing to me…So there we were on a bus again. This time however, it was a special kind of a bus. The kind of bus that does only dirt road routs, and has been doing them since the 70s….You can only imagine how I felt boarding this vehicle in an anticipation of a 28-30 hour ride. They say that the same rout can take up to 4 days in the summer season!

So, here are some 5 things that most impressed me about this special Bolivian treat bus trip:

• 1.  There were about 10 small children on board with us and they slept on the dusty dirty floor between the seats. When the bus stopped for us to take a pee in the bushes, or no bushes, everyone had to be very careful not to step on kids limbs when exiting and entering the bus.
• 2.    At one point we had to cross a river about 30 meters wide, and there was not bridge. The bus and the passengers were sent to the other side on a wooden float moved by a small motorboat.
• 3.    When there were rest stops, most passengers bought food, candy, fruit and drinks to take on the bus. Naturally, all of this trash was soon on the floor, so you never knew what you were going to find under your foot in the middle of the night.
• 4.    In the morning, I, once again, discovered that buses are very animal friendly in Bolivia. A few rows in front f me there was a woman travelling with a dog.
• 5.    One of the passengers, whom Emi made friends with, told us that he was a hunter, and that he was travelling to the tropical part of Bolivia to stay there to hunt until December. Among his hunter stories, he told us that he had his rifle with him on the bus, and wanted to take it out to show it to us. I am sure it was a great gun, but I have had enough on that bus without adding more excitement to it.

Bolivian Ferries.

Oh, and one more thing. When we were all finally out of that bus, people looked like they were coming from some field exercise where they dug trenches. Everyone’s clothes and luggage were brownish-red, completely covered with the dirt road dust.

By 2pm on June 1^st we were in Guayaramerin, a border town with Brazil. I could hardly believe that this was our last stop and we did not have to get back on that stupid bus…. We made it! Thank you, God!!!