Staggering Natural Beauty vs: Ugly Daily Reality

The story of how I got assaulted by an old drunk woman in Cohoni, Bolivia.

Of the six countries we are visiting on this journey, Bolivia is by far the poorest. For comparison, the GDP per Capita of the USA is $57,000. Chile and Argentina are both about half the US – Peru, Colombia, Ecuador are half of Chile and Argentina – Bolivia is half again at $6,000. It is pretty safe to assume that most of the people we met riding through the Cordillera Quimsa Cruz south of La Paz are living lives that are economically well below their average countrymen. Many are likely living on subsistence farming where they are not even counted in the GDP because they generate no economic activity.

South of La Paz, we rode along the Rio Choqueyapu through a valley of small farms and then climbed up the first of a number of spectacular mountain passes where people were scratching a living on ever smaller and ever higher terraces. These are beautiful mountains and valleys that fill the horizon for hundreds of miles as we tracked around the snow capped Nevada Illimani.

The road was dirt but well maintained and we shortly came across a large road crew grading and repairing the surface. When they saw a group of gringos on large bikes they decided that this was too good an opportunity to miss and blocked our path demanding a toll – literally highway robbery. After a lot of back and forth we settled on 50 Bolivianos – about $8 – paid to the old gentleman seen here leading the negotiation. There were at least 20 men in this group so we have no idea how the bounty was divided up. We heard later that this likely went into a community fund; but I’m not convinced.

In Cohoni we stopped for snacks, ice cream, or a quick meal from the only cafe in town. As usual a group of school kids gathered to find out what we were doing and we handed out business cards with a map of the ride. Chris White is seen here with Sterling Noren filming the question and answer session both ways.

At the other end to the plaza, there was a group of men and women sitting the shade of the church and passing around a very large bottle of local moonshine. They had obviously been passing this bottle around for a long time and they were all very drunk. I went over to chat and declined a glass of the booze and then one of the ladies asked me to take a picture with her. She was very well turned out in traditional clothes and bowler hat. She was of indeterminate age, and well the worse for the alcohol. Nontheless, she confided that I should not talk to the men “pero son todos borrachos”. Because they are all drunkards. So far all good fun but then she said that I should pay her for the photo as it was going to go “all around the world”. Correct.

I gave her a couple of coins and she thrust them back at me saying she wanted 50 Bolivianos and then the guy with the bottle and the hat said they wanted 100 Bolivianos. I politely refused and a bunch them grabbed my camera. These are people used to manual labour and had very firm grips. I made it very clear that they were getting neither 100 Bolivianos nor my camera but arguing with drunks is a one-sided conversation. Eventually, with help from my friends, I got the camera back and walked away but not before the old lady ran after me pounding angrily on my back; presumably because she was too short to reach my head.

The darker footnote to this was that one of the little 9 year old girls ran over and, with an air of sadness and resignation, grabbed the arm of the man with the hat and the bottle and led him away from the fracas. We assume this was her father and she wanted to make sure he did not get into any more trouble. She was being asked to be adult long before she should have been.