Villamontes to Santa Cruz

I woke up in Villamontes in a much better mood. In fact I recalled that much of the previous day had been very pleasant. The drive to the border had been highlighted with wonderful scenery and comical relations with the local fowl. The birds never ceased to amaze me. They flew directly at my car and sometimes would fly across the hood as if tempting fate they couldn’t make it. I never had one hit the windshield but I can count two fatalities at the front grill. It was almost as if they would play in the wind/wake of the car like porpoises do with ships at sea.

There is a larger type of bird, with about a two foot wingspan, that often was on the road and would stay in the road until very last minute or simply walk to the side of the road and not fly away. One time there were two of these birds right in my way. One flew away with time to spare but the other mis-calculated. He was perfectly situated in the middle of my path and the last thing I saw before I straddled him was his wings being pulled tight and he hunkered down. I was going about 60 mph. I fervently watched my review mirror and saw him sitting in the middle of the road, a little shaken, but he slowly spread his wings and shook himself out. It’s often strange to laugh aloud alone – I do it a lot these day – but I laughed for quite a while after that.

On Friday (3/14/08) I hoped to be on the road by 9 am. But I realized I had chores to do. I didn’t feel I had enough cash to fill the tank and I’m never sure if the gas stations will take credit cards so I had to find an ATM. Well the ATM didn’t work so I had to go as far as I could with what I had. But this also gave me a chance to see Villamontes in the daylight. It is a very interesting little town. I have no idea what the major industries are however there is some major infrastructure work taking place. There is new market being built that would be welcome in any large city and many of the streets are in the process of being paved.

The owners of the hotel were fantastic people. No matter how awful my attitude they continued to help me. I apologized to them on Friday and helped him translate the directions for a new coffee pot for the restaurant but I don’t know if I was much help. They gave me their contact information but I’ve lost it so if you read this (they have my blog address) please send my your names and contact info again! I’ve posted their pictures, the hotel and the pharmacy. I talked with their daughter on the phone, her English is quite good. So my departure was later than I expected but the drive to Santa Cruz was shorter as well.

Where Thursday, at least those couple hours in the afternoon, was one problem after another Friday was the day of good fortune. I drove through to Camiri without getting gas. In Camiri I stopped at the first gas station and of course they didn’t take credit cards. I gave her a limit and the tank was full with less than my limit. I forgot gas is cheap in Bolivia, less than 50 cents per liter which is less than $2.00 per gallon. I continued on to Santa Cruz.

I had asked a number of places about to find a map of Santa Cruz. The only map I had was the city center map in the Footprints book. I had picked a hotel from the book and had the address. So I had to drive into this city of 1.5 million with just an address. I asked a few people directions from the car to get into the center of town. Santa Cruz has six ring roads. They are well marked and I knew that once I passed the 1st ring road I was in the center. At that point I asked a couple people from the car to direct me to the main square. The first, and only, time I got out of the car and asked a security guard using the small guide book map for directions I learned I had miraculously ended up on the exact same street as the Hotel. The streets are not all marked and they can change names as well so I didn’t know where I was.

With that happy news I just proceeded on the same street and found the hotel – no problem. Then my luck continued when at reception they gave me a price half of what the book had quoted. That doesn’t happend very often.

I always knew that Santa Cruz is very different from La Paz. Where La Paz is basically built in a canyon down from the Altiplano, Santa Cruz is very flat. Due to the nature of the terrain La Paz is haphazrd with windy roads. Santa Cruz is very planned with it’s six ring roads and a true grid in the old town center. The plazas are very welcoming and entertain tons of people strolling throughout the day. I checked out the night life last night. There are sectors that the police cordon off so the bar scene revelers have the run of the streets.

The architecture is different as well. I believe Santa Cruz has grown tremendously in the last half century while La Paz has always been a main center of governance and commerce. The old town center of Santa Cruz has an odd mix of old and new. There are many old colonial style buildings, some about to fall down, with their long overhanging eves forming colonades that cover the sidewalks. Much of the new construction has continued this theme with modern arcade buildings some three stories or more.

I spent much of today working on the phone and the internet trying to find an apartment to rent in La Paz. There really isn’t much more I can do until I arrive in La Paz next week and can physically inspect the places.

Tomorrow I hope to take a city tour and get some pictures to post on the web.

Filadelfia to Villamontes

I made it up early Thursday (3/13/08) at the Safari Hotel in Filadelfia and was on the road by 8 am.  I had about 200 miles to the border with Bolivia and I wanted to make the border by noon.  Eventually I reached a fork in the road where the main road turned left. What continued straight ahead and was singed as Ruta 9 turned into gravel.  There was a police station at the junction so I stopped and asked their advice.  Showing them my map I was informed that the route I was intending to take doesn’t exist.  I’m not sure if it ever existed.  I needed to turn south and follow the pavement to the border.

I followed their advice and made the border before noon.  The border office was just a chain stretched across the road with a couple buildings set back.  Soon after I pulled over an officer walked to the nearest office and started working on my papers.  He was friendly and told me what he needed. I had to run to the bathroom, a scary little outhouse about 50 feet away, and when I returned another officer was inspecting my car.  I approached him and answered a few questions.  He was not friendly and appeared to be in a bad mood.  I informed him the other officer in the building had all my paperwork.

Soon I realized I had given my paperwork to the Bolivian customs guy and it was the Paraguayan guy who was so unpleasant.  The Bolivian finished my paperwork quickly and handed them back to me. The Paraguayan was very upset that I didn’t have the customs papers for my car.  As had happened when I entered Brazil, I was essentially waved through into Paraguay.  I was told that I didn’t need any paperwork because I was on a 10 day transit visa.  I questioned that at the time but with my limited Spanish it is hard to argue when an officer is telling you to proceed.  So upon leaving Paraguay the customs officer gave me lots of grief and ended it with telling me was filing a grievance (I think that’s what he said) about the guys at the other border because this has happened before.

Thankfully it was only about 30 minutes total and I was back in Bolivia. I’ve posted a picture of the road after crossing the border.  Needless to say it was one of the worst roads I’ve driven.  I had at least 30 miles of this before finding immigration.  What I’d gone through at the border was simply customs and immigration for Bolivia was further on.

At immigration I encountered more troubles.  When I asked at the customs office where immigration was I had totally forgotten about immigration for Paraguay.  Apparently I had passed Paraguayan immigration over 60 miles before reaching the border.  It was even before the junction where I questioned the police.  I vaguely remember seeing some sign for immigration at a small town but there are signs all over for immigration and customs. I only really pay attention close to the border.

When I entered Bolivian immigration there were three officers in the room.  They chattered about the fact I was US and I heard one question if I had my visa.  The supposed boss quickly looked in my passport.  Without hesitation I proudly stated I knew the requirement and the visa was in the passport.  The boss made some joke about missing the fine he could of extracted.

Luck was on his side however and his demeanor quickly changed and became quite aggressive.  In searching through my passport he realized I didn’t have a Paraguayan exit stamp.  Round one started with him slamming my passport shut, shoving it too me and demanding I go back to Paraguay and get the stamp.  That meant almost one hundred miles each direction, the majority of which were some of the worst mud roads I’ve traveled.  In the end I got my stamp and was permitted to enter.

What transpired between me and the three officers I cannot publish on the web – I promised not to tell.  So if you want the story I’ll have to tell it in person. In the end it was good practice in humility, negotiation, persuasion and Spanish.  This was not the first time in the last week I’ve promised not to tell of a border negotiation.  The previous border crossing into Paraguay required some fancy dancing as I didn’t have the required visa.

After negotiations were complete and they had been profusely thanked I was asked to take three people in my car to Villamontes, the next town about 30 miles down the road and where I was planning on spending the night.  They were teachers who live in Villamontes and had been in Idibobo working.  That meant a quick rearranging of all my bags, basically just thrown in the back.

We started off towards Villamontes and I immediately noticed that there was no air coming through the vents.  No matter what I did there was no air flow. I looked at the engine, as if that would help, saw nothing strange, as if I’d know, and headed down the road.  Then I noticed the voltmeter was registering really low.  Something was wrong with the alternator or the electrical system.  This, coming after the border experience, put me in a foul mood.  Add the fact I had three people in my car I really didn’t want and one of them, Carlos, kept directing me as if I’ve never driven a car before, this became one of the longest 30 miles I’ve ever driven.

Everyone had said the road became pavement at Idibobo.  So after about three miles more of bad dirt road I asked Carlos how much longer until the pavement and he said very soon.  Five miles more and I asked again and he responded with soon again.  It was probably a total of 10 miles on the same bad dirt road before we hit pavement.   Apparently in the next two years the bad dirt road we drove on will be unnecessary as they are finishing a new road to connect the paved road at the border and the pavement in Bolivia.  Carlos told me when the road is paved it will connect the Atlantic to the Pacific.

In Villamontes we dropped the two woman off at their houses and Carlos stayed with me (we passed his house on the way in) to direct me to the hotel.  He’s a teacher and likes to give directions.  He even walked with me to the bank to make sure they could change money for me which really wasn’t necessary.  He was a really nice guy giving me all his contact information in case I needed his help. I had told them all in the car the I was worried about the electrical problem and didn’t really know what to do.

I got money changed at the bank because I didn’t have any bolivianos up to that point.  Back at the hotel I told the owner of the hotel that I needed to find a mechanic but first I needed to get the car washed.  Before I had reached Bolivian immigration in Idibobo in the pleasant solitude of the bad dirt road I had crossed a puddle a little too fast.  I didn’t know it was possible but somehow when I went through the mud puddle the whole front end of the car became doused with mud. At that exact moment my windshield wiper ran out of water.  The two days prior the terrain had a lot of bugs and I’d been using the wiper fluid to clean the bug juice off the windshield.  So I had a great smear of dried dirt across the windshield while the rest of the front end was completely caked in dirt.

The cleaning of the car was a practice in patience.  The whole time mulling over what to do about the alternator and watching the volt meter like it was about to explode it took me three attempts before I found a car wash (which generally means four kids, a bucket of soap, a hose and lots of horseplay) that was open.  Each time I had to come back to the hotel to be told a different location to try.

An hour later the car was washed and I could deal with the electrical problem.  It was now about 5 pm on a Friday. I called (brother-in-law) Dave my car adviser and talked over the situation with him.  I decided to wait until Santa Cruz and if the battery went dead I could switch batteries and use up the second. When I returned to the hotel the owner was ready to take me to who described as a very trustworthy electrical guy.  He knew him personally and would vouch for him.  So I decided to give that a shot.

His trusted friend wasn’t around so we went to another and that guy wasn’t around.  We ended up at the third guy’s shop.  At this point I was wondering what a third string electrical guy could possibly do. He had one of his employees do a few test with two wires and a light between them.  He quickly noted that the alternator wasn’t working.  He started following the wires and found a wire that had come loose.  He put it back together and everything worked fine.  Total coast was $3.00.  Finally relief at the end of the day.
I ended the day walking to a main street that the hotel staff told me had restaurants.  The restaurant consisted of tables on the sidewalk and inside the building was a little store.  The husband/owner was cooking on a grill on the sidewalk and the wife/owner was waiting tables.  There were lots of families eating at the place and a couple of tables with singles like me some watching the football game on TV.  I had grilled chicken, salad, rice and a large Fanta.  The whole thing cost about $3.00, same as fixing my car.

I was happy to walk back to the hotel and go to bed.  I was looking forward to a new day and a new attitude.