Small things, shaman, God and a whole new constitution

It’s been an interesting weekend here in La Paz. On Saturday was the start of the Fiesta of Small Things. People buy models of whatever they want—cars, houses, money, minibuses, babies—and then have them blessed by a shaman in expectation of therefore receiving them. I suspect some maybe disappointed.

Members of an equal-opportunities profession, the shamans sat in front of crucibles of burning incense and bottles of the 96% “drinking” alcohol, Ciebo. While the rest of Bolivia suffers under a booze ban, a special exception has been made for the shamans’ blessing ceremonies.

Sunday was the referendum on the new constitution. Billed as the decolonization of Bolivia and the empowering of the marginalized majority, I would find it difficult to vote no. However, it’s imperfect—vastly overlong, ambiguous and contradictory—providing ample ammunition for those who instinctively disagree with anything produced by Evo and the MAS government, or those firmly against socialism and secularization.

Both sides have behaved badly: government supporters unforgivably attacked a local no vote march and the opposition preposterously argued a yes vote is to kick God out of the country.

Voting is an obligation rather than a right here, and there’s a ban of traffic on election day to prevent people feeling obligated to place their tick in more than one location. The roads were by turn eerie and humanized: kids rode their bikes, fathers taught their children to ride, football games were played in busy thoroughfares and people walked their puppies (fully grown dogs are dumped as strays), elsewhere empty roads echoed the far-off celebratory explosions of dynamite fuses.

Even in the afternoon, hours before any result, Plaza Murillo—the parliament square—was already full. I’ve not seen so many crusty travellers in one place since Goa in 1995. A chant of Evo! Evo! went up but it failed to catch, but it was early days. There was clearly going to be some celebrating here when the inevitable yes-vote success came through.

Outside the MAS office, they were already hugging and kissing—even without a result, they knew this is a historic day.