From grief to galoshin!

Right, a little update. Last Sunday I sat in a cafe, of a choice of millions in Quillacollo, 13ks from Cbba and market day on Sundays (one of the more amazing market places I´ve visited thus far (La Cancha in Cochabamba is by far the craziest! - although I haven´t found the animal blackmarket section yet (and I don´t want to!))), and shed some tears over the situation that I´d found myself in. No, not a broken leg, or a broken camera, but a broken heart from all of you that I miss brought forth with gusto while I was trying to "expose myself" to local ways. I was left so alone when I got off the bus from Cbba, with only the stares and giggles and Spanish jokes as my companion as I strolled the streets realising how much I hated market places... I wasn´t feeling particularly strong and in the back corner of the upstairs section of the cafe I wanted to be home again. My diary got a hell of a blasting from the vitriol I felt then for everything South American and everything to do with the "virtues" of a challenge.

ANYway, then, on my way back out to the crowded streets (looking, I´m sure, as if I was headed for the gallows) I sighted a parrot at the top of the stairwell that just knew how to pose so out came my camera and she was a natural! Then two kids doing their homework downstairs spotted me and were curious about the camera, and I showed them the photos. They were ecstatic to see their own images after they proudly stood at attention for their photo to be taken.

I don´t know how it happened, but when I walked back out into the street, I took a deep breath and felt an incredible strength, and... was it joy? I saw the Cholita with the stall of Bowler hats for sale, and although she wasn´t about to allow herself in the photo it was a pure thrill to take a photo of the hats. And then it just didn´t stop. A dozen kids sate with me as I ate the crazy fluffy sweet stuff with jelly. Some of them spoke English and I even had the guts to try my Spanish again. Little Brian just sat there in front of me, hands under his chin, watching me eat. He was very cute. The woman I´m pictured with even proposed ... something to me (was it marriage or just a fling?) as her friends insisted on kisses and kept pushing her into my path... We all had a great time together around the capsicums and the squash, as the language barrier broke down with the force of smiles and friendliness. I could barely get back onto one of the countless buses for Cbba, except that it was packed with colourful aguayos (that carryall that Cholas wear) and I found myself empathising with heads banged on the roof, as eye contact was made from all over the bus, and more laughs and in the end I couldn´t believe the irrepressible smile on my face dissipating the fears and insecurities that welled in me just hours earlier.

Anyway, there I am, perhaps with my future wife (not sure what I agreed to with that photo - whatever it was it was met with unquenchable frivolity and curiosity).

I´ll no doubt be back there for the Fiesta de la Vergin de Urkupiña in August, the biggest celebration of the year in the Cbba department (region), and probably before.