Hollandish Neanderthals

Wednesday afternoon begins the epic and adventurous trip to Uyuni. Mateo Lucas and I are all in high spirits on the short four hour bus to oruro. We dont yet actually have tickets to Uyuni, but have been assured there will be ample space on multiple buses. We should have two hours of leeway time in order to secure tickets and even get some dinner.
Alas, this is Bolivia.

The bus rolls up and we have 30 minutes before the last buses leave. Lucas runs to an internet cafe to submit the final portion of his grant (which was written on scrap paper on the bus) as Mateo and I scramble to find seats. Turns out there's a roadblock between Oruro and Potosi, so everyone who would have been going to Potosi is now trying to go to Uyuni. We end up splitting up, Mateo on one bus, and Lucas and I on the other. As we get on the bus, a man in uniform guides us to our "seats" and puts my luggage in the overhead compartment. Then another lady and her two kids gets on and says we're in her seats. Distraction and aggravation ensue, and finally they send lucas to another seat, and I get wedged in between three little wawas on either side, which will then cry and drool on me all night.
After 10 hours on this freezing cold bus, we awake from a restless slumber in the icy town of Uyuni. As we go to get of the bus, I realize my backpack isnt there. Remember that guy who worked for the bus company? He didnt. Sly foxes those theives. So here I am in the middle of winter, in the coldest part of Bolivia, without a change of clothes or even a hat to my name.

Spirits not so high, we find Mateo and book our three day salar tour, which will leave at 10 am. with a couple hours to kill, we head to the market and deck me out in an absolutely ridiculous amount of artesan clothing - socks, gloves, a hat and sweater. ( P.s. tourists are the only people who think this clothing is cool. Bolivians are walking around in the same made in china crap most of the U.S is.)
We then meet our traveling companions for three days - two girls from Holland on vacation and an American who teaches in Cochabamba and set out in a quite cosy Jeep with the six of us and the guide, Edwin, packed in there. The salar (salt flats) is our first site, and is absolutely incredible, just as everyone says. We eat a picnic lunch and climb about on this cactus covered island for a bit before continuing on through the desolate landscape.

We get to our hostal type thing for the night and as we are unloading realize our sleeping bags are still at the office in Uyuni. Some level of miscommunication between ourselves and the driver. At this point I can only laugh, and wonder who I offended this horribly to have karma kicking my ass this royally. The other girls are awesome though, and we have a great dinner and stay up talking after dinner until the power turns off... the generator only runs for two hours each day. Mateo, being his ridiculous self, keeps asking them to speak "hollish" and wondering what "neanderthal," by which I think he meant netherlands, dances are like.

The next day is even colder, but we see a series of incredible colored lakes... all of the different minerals give each lake a different appearance.Other stops include the "army of rocks" which is this really eerie serie of gigantic peices of coral which somehow got deposited in the middle of a now-dry basin millions of years ago. Tonight we are at another salt hotel, but higher in altitude. Its too cold to sleep. Im grateful when the alarm rings at 5 am, because at least then we're in the car and body heat is mildly abating the peircing cold.

Our first stop and probably my favorite site was the geysers... so eerie at 6 am but really strangely beautiful as well. If you ever forget that the earth is a powerful force, theres nothing like boiling sulfur holes and jets of water shooting 60 ft in the air to remind you. We then went to the thermal hotsprings, which, once you siked yourself up enough to strip down in the icy air in order to get in, were absolutely divine. We all wanted to stay longer, but the Edwin insisted we start our 9 hr trek back to uyuni so that we arive before dark. we got our second flat tire, but this time the road was too sandy to use the jack, so the guide drives up on two rocks, and then bolsters the axle with more rocks in order to get the tire off. I wonder what the appropriate course of action is if our guide gets crushed by our jeep. But he's a pro, and we arrive in Uyuni safe and sound, say goodbye to our friends, buy bus tickets home for tomorrow night and check into a hostal for a nice hot shower.

We're all pretty exhausted but decide to go out for a little bit. We end up at a pub talking to a french boy and german girl, and so we're all communicating in our non-native tongue. one of the best parts of traveling is the amazimgly diverse and interesting people you are bound to meet. We're playing Cacho embarassingly poorly, and the bartender keeps stopping by our table to teach us new tricks. The bar is supposed to close at one, but the bartender didnt want to go home either and so taught us a new dice game - mentiroso, kind of like liar's dice but with only two dice. Since today is Uyuni's birthday, the festivities began at Midnight, and so we head out to the square to dance, because continually moving (and drinking) is the only way to keep your mind off of the frostbite that has probably consumed at least two toes.
The next morning we watch speeches and a parade, waiting for the supposed appearance of Evo Morales, who we never actually did see, and then head inside to watch the World Cup. Afterwards we have 2 hours before our bus comes to get dinner, which we figure should be plenty. Then we realize after we have already ordered, that our waitress is fairly drunk. In fact, Im quite sure 90% of the town was stumbling around drunk. At the table next to us, a 60 year old man is bellowing out love ballads, and some other sloppy man comes over to talk to us. He tells us he's a tour guide for the salar and has a tour leaving early tomorrow. Suddenly, Im very glad we paid a little bit more for our tour company, and avoided whatever drunk/hungover guides we might have had otherwise.

This is a horrifically long blog post, but you're about to get to the best part !

Our bus is supposed to leave at 8, and we've asked several times by 8 45 if it has showed up yet. We ask again and they tell us "oh, that bus is cancelled. theres another one tomorrow though!" again we scramble to find a bus that can get us out of this forsaken town tonight... there appears to be one left, but with no seats. The driver promises us a spot, but then 20 more "centrales" or people who just sit in the aisleway get on, and theres no way theres room for us. We scramble again and find another, and brace ourselves for a ten hour journey, sitting in an aiselway, on an already sketchy bus. Sometimes, all you can do is laugh.

i get wedged in between more kids, but this time a group of cousins ages 6 to 13, who are all absolutely adorable and fascinated by our very presence. We have to sing them a round of "row row row your boat" in order to coax them into sleep. When we arrive in Oruro, they give me a little origami flower they made, and say goodbye using all the fun new english words (however unsuited to the context) they just learned. =)

Im out a camera, cell phone, and lots of warm clothes. But enriched by the beauty of Bolivia and warmth of friends. This could be equally the worst, and also the most enjoyable, trip I've ever been on.