Prose

Narrative writings: essays, reviews, polemics, short stories, etc

April 23. Lake Titicaca.
The legs are okay again. I can move on today. I want to describe the begging women in the bus station. Her dark skin, how she crouches and moves her hand up and down to indicate what she's after: a few Bolivianos. The colorfully woven pouch on her back, the noises she makes, her small ...
April 22. La Paz.
La Paz. It is cold indeed and the bus driver halts for me so I can take my jacket out of the luggage compartment. The old orange one that has served in Russia earlier on the road. The arrival in La Paz is spectacular and comfortable. A modern bus terminal right in the center, plenty ...
April 21. The road ahead.
Today, we copy the photos of the Paraba Azul to a cd at Alberto's place. He offers us lunch and has some story about the integration of foreigners into the community, which can be hard at times. After this it's time to say goodbye to Buenavista. I leave with dear memories of the people here ...
April 20. Lazy day.
Lazy day, I skip the excursion to Cafetal where the nine-step process of coffee production is explained. Washing the beans, sorting them, peeling them, sorting the big ones out for richer coffees, fermenting, drying, roasting, grinding. It's an interesting science. So, if you're in the area, put Cafetal on your list.

I meet Alberto ...
April 19. Theater.
Sunday, lazy sunday. Sometimes, you have to turn the hide of your experiences inside out in order to aerate it. In the process, you can study the pigments that have been formed over the years by the exposure to the world. Red spots, shiny freckles, tiny oily canals of capillaries carrying heavy blood to wide ...
April 18. Locro, Picante, and Llajua.
If you have the feeling that you cannot do anything right, that you are doomed to mediocracy in whatever you undertake, stop worrying about it. Just think about the hour of your death: you will be perfect at it. You will look to your left, you will look to your right, and bam! you will ...
April 17. Tuqui.
A photosession with the local toucan called Tuqui, the most fascinating resident of a house facing the Plaza Principal of Buenavista. He was hiding in the garden, but after some searching we found him sitting on a branch of a cacao tree. He gave kisses with his big yellow beak that is really not so ...
April 16. Buenavista Coffee.
Buenavista coffee beans, dried on the groundDays begin with a cup of Buenavista coffee in a small tienda artesenal and some empanadas to bite on. I look for a place in the shade and write. Today, I work on my novel again, after many weeks. I'm a bit worried I can't repair the narrative anymore ...
April 15. You may skip this.
Wrote. Just more words. If you want to read them, they are all in your dictionary, only their order is less contaminated there. Walked around in the village to investigate the people of Bolivia. Entered a pharmacy to ask what medicine costs here. She started to tell, aspirin is four tablets for one Boliviano, and ...