2.03.08 Church, fetuses and line dancing

The rock surrounding La Paz is more colourful than I could have imagined. Areas are grey, others green and elsewhere it’s a vibrant red. Even at night, there is still colour. Against the pervading blackness, the communities of houses precariously nestled into the rock wall give off distinct patches of colour made up of bright pinpricks of white, yellow and red lights.
This was Susi’s last day of holiday and we had been neglecting our tourist responsibilities. So we took our guidebook’s suggested tour. We were quickly ushered out of our first stop—the Church of San Francisco—because it was closing. Walking alongside the church, I saw a sign about a hunger strike and made a mental note to investigate further. Our next stop was the witches’ market, which undoubtably offers the finest range of llama fetuses I have ever come across. There were no obvious witches but perhaps they have Sunday off. And so on to the black market: there’s no attempt to hide its illicit purpose under any subterfuge, this shabby area is marked the Mercado Negro on all the maps. Perhaps Brick Lane market should rename itself Thieved Bike Market in a similar vein of up-front dishonesty.
On reflection of the walk, my first sense was of the poverty that surrounded the inhabitants and I felt a strong sense of pity combined with a desire to return to the German Club’s green space. With the exception of the professional travellers and the singing-and-line-dancing-for-Jesus march that passed, it was a sober reminder that 2/3 of Bolivia’s population lives below the poverty line.