After Spanish, I sit in the park under my splendid hat and try to learn the new streams of vocabulary. The weather is ideal, we’re enjoying a golden patch between summer (the rainy season) and winter (the dry season) taking in the best of each.
Plaza Avoroa is beautifully maintained, teams of gardeners sow tiny plants in perfect patterns around the tropical trees. The centrepiece is a huge statue of Eduardo Avoroa caught for perpetuity seemingly fallen over drunk while mid rant. Who knows, perhaps it’s how he wanted to be remembered.
As a gringo novelty, I have more than my fair share of approaches from the militant shoe shiners. A very friendly bunch, the relationship is tainted with a sinister edge because, although they offer something ostensibly positive, they would happily run off with every Boliviano I have. I imagine being surrounded by Scientologists would feel much the same.
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