This, from the most helpful support group this side of the Andes...

Looks like you have to keep the time slot of 8 pm to 8.30 pm , either the 4th or the 11th of September, free of clutter.

Australian Story focussing on a family living with Marfan Syndrome (of a girl I know!) will most likely be broadcast on the 11th, but, it might just be earlier.

I can't resist a good ethics bashing...

Who does this apply to? AFL or ARL

36 have been accused of spousal abuse
7 have been arrested for fraud
19 have been accused of writing bad checks
117 have directly or indirectly bankrupted at least 2 businesses
3 have done time for assault
71, repeat71 cannot get a credit card due to bad credit
14 have been arrested on drug-related charges
8 have been arrested for shoplifting
21 currently are defendants in lawsuits,
and 84 have been arrested for drunk driving in the last year! Can you guess which organization this is? Give up yet? . . .




















Neither ... it's the 535 members of the AUSTRALIAN PARLIAMENT IN CANBERRA

What's that sound...? Oh, it's quiet.

What does it mean when the teachers, the post office, and all public transport goes on strike at the same time? That someone's stuffing up royally. And who else could it be? It's not my fault, or is it?

It also means that my first English class of the day has cancelled because she can't get to my house - no buses.

And lucky I work for a private institute where they'll stay as open as a 7/11 (that's an insult by the way) regardless of a teacher's strike, and I get paid... maybe. Am I a scab? Well, not technically. Should I go out in sympathy for the Bolivians? Will it make a difference? Should I just use my English class to propogate my propoganda, as I always do? Will that salve my guilt? Better go find that street protest and take some pictures...

In other news, the streets will be even quieter this coming Sunday, when the Cochabambino masses actually enforce the "Car Free Day" call. Any unauthorised vehicles face the threat of being the target of missiles in the form rocks or tomatoes or eggs. So there'll be few cars on the road and much tranquilo-ing and street walking. Nullabor Simon would be in his element! And can you imagine a Dresses of Mass Seduction gig in Plaza 14 de Septiembre!!

Viva el mundo libre!

Your FNBC.

This one's for Jackie... (check the lyrics)

... while - can you believe it - "Lay you down on a bed of roses" plays away at this internet cafe... in fact *he just realises* it's the whole damn album ("Blaze of Glory" now!).

Sometimes I feel I'm not even watching Bolivia from the tv (as suggested I was doing here now, by an esteemed fellow, because I don't have Spanish - true).

football, festivals and farewells.

Well now, where to start. Just me, me, me isn't it!

Back pedal to the footy game, between Aurora (my local team) and the other local team (can't remember the name but they're very good so it's the popular team - the underdog doesn't usually get a look in here...) in the National comp. The view of the field shows the Cbba mountains in the background, the scoreboard which ended as 1-1, the riot police - a regular feature to ensure the referees get off the field alive, and the players, of course. I was there with the other two Aussies, Luke who I move in with in a few weeks (there's the official broadcast), and Marty, who has flown the coop, leaving me almost karaoke partner-less...

The festive atmosphere you find me in is the Monday of that Urkupiña cafuffle that took place last week, where little sleep was had as opposed to much festivities, which is what a festival is all about. Thousands of participants in the parade, while Marty and I traipsed around like idiots through the parade, often being confused as part of the cross-cultural contingent according to the reaction from the gawking crowd. I swear some of the crowds on the bleachers looked just like an Australian Great Southern Stand moment, but smaller.

Don't worry about the girl in the parade with me there. She had nowhere to put anything she might have pickpocketed from me, so I think I was safe, in that regard...

And that's not a beer in my hand, it's a... um... you know, ... a light?

Phew.

Mirror, mirror on the wall...

Capricorn

A funny thing happens when the chaos of your life fades away: You suddenly notice things you never noticed before. Things are definitely throttling down today, so you might have a difficult time staying focused -- your eye will be distracted by items or people that everyone else has already become used to. It's important to take this day at face value -- don't go digging too deep for greater significance. Sometimes things just are what they seem to be.

What, like this star reading?

One fish, two fish, red fish... (is that blood?), blue fish (is that ink?)

Yummy trucha for me! It didn't come from the skanky river that flowed all peaceful like past our table out the road a bit (at the bourgeois touristy strip, just to call a spade a spade) but it did melt in one's mouth. That's mine, front, third from the right (cos this information is really important!)

And a one, and a two... *smokey flashback shimmering...*

Just a little flashback to the tiny town of Toro Toro and the Tinku Festival for Tata Santiago (whoever he/she was...) back in late July.

This woman was full of chicha and not letting me get away without some samba in my bones.

(note the suspicious bucket of chicha in the bottom right corner, waiting to pounce on me... I mean, look at it - all innocent and consciousless looking.)

Curiosity # 15 How many driver lessons does it take to drive this poorly...

Driving down Av. America (or being escorted again to be precise) I saw an unexpected sight. Not unexpected in a vacuum of information but if you read my blog in the past categorising the top ten driving shit-me's in Cochabamba, then, well... yep.

In front of me was a car with a driving instructor's sign on top, the inside looking to me like a driving lesson being taken place *raises eyebrows and shrugs shoulders, again*.

The fellow is as relevent as ever!

"Do not fear the enemy, for your enemy can only take your life. It is far better that you fear the media, for they will steal your Honor. That awful power, the public opinion of a nation, is created in America by a horde of ignorant, self-complacent simpletons who failed at ditching and shoemaking and fetched up in journalism on their way to the poorhouse"

-Mark Twain.

Totally unrelated to Bolivia, and yet...

Now here I go getting myself into trouble again...

I got sent a political mp3 file certainly worth listening to. It covers alot of ground already heard, and perhaps discarded, but it's in the context of current events. Conspiracy theories are great, and remember, it's o.k. to be paranoid if it's really happening to you!! It runs for about 10 minutes.

http://www.conspiracypenpal.com/rants/new911-16-16.mp3

Banality #14 Lebanon, more virgins, and my spraycan.

To view the scenes in the Information Clearing House videos (http://www.informationclearinghouse.info/article14616.htm) is depressing. For me, today at least, it only serves as a reminder that I don't understand anything, about Lebanon, the fighting, what I'm going to do about it all. Like the old man at the end of the video, this country is also asking for God to punish all oppressors. But I wonder how many people prayed to the Virgin de Urkupiña on Wednesday for that very thing. A lot of tiny trucks were sold as symbols of what people were praying for. I didn't see any tiny bombs, or little effigies of George Bush, or miniature guns. On the same token, I didn't see any miniscule peace signs either. What does this say? That people are more interested in their own personal material desires rather than more socially productive pursuits? Or does it mean that they've prayed to the good old Mother of God long enough for that social justice stuff and realise she's just not going to cough up. I'm still this very morning hearing stories of how the Virgin has assisted in times of need, but one woman told me of how she was told by her husband to walk to the shrine and ask for rain for the crops to grow, or dry for the trees to be cut: she couldn't remember. When she got there she tossed the metaphoric coin in the air and prayed for rain. It rained. Her husband was very angry at her for screwing up the request to the Big Virgin. I reckon if the Virgin's so good then she should've known what the lady's husband wanted. You can't go smiting people for having a poor memory.

Going to enjoy the Sunday sun (the real one, not the Murdoch one). There's still snow on Mt. Tunari. And my flattened spraycan is still as comfortingly there in the dirt at the end of the street as it was on the first day I got here. How about you? How's your aerosol?

Your FNBC.

Monkey, legless, and cultural immersion.

In the world before Monkey, primal chaos reigned. Heaven sought order, but the phoenix can fly only when it's feathers are grown. The four worlds formed again and yet again, as endless aeons wheeled and passed. Time and the pure essences of Heaven all worked upon a certain rock, old as creation. It became magically fertile. The first egg was named "Thought". Tathagata Buddha, the Father Buddha said "With our thoughts, we make the world". Elemental forces caused the egg to hatch. From it came a stone monkey. The nature of monkey was irrepressible!!


Well, as a sleep deprived adventurer in the South once said: "Who needs sleep! We're on an adventure!!"

Yep, well, he was sleep deprived - you can't expect him to have epiphanous moments all the time.

I was fully primed - like a Saturday Night Fever fan on a Sunday morning - to sleep in. Of course bloody culture got in the way and I had to have some o' the action.

Now, I can't say I scaled a 5000 metre summit, nor can I say I was witness to any great spiritual experiences, but I DID wake up at 1.50am this morning to start walking the 20ks from my house in Recoleta to the shrine of the Virgin de Urkupiña, along with at LEAST 250,000 others (they didn't all start from my house by the way). We thought this turn-out - after informal reports of gringoisation, and a disappointing no-show from a Boliviano who was going to join us – was going to resemble our whitey crew (Marty, Gesine, Luke and Anny (who IS Bolivian) and my good self).

We mused dejectedly as we scuttled along toward the main drag that there were not really any groups around walking (at least in the right direction). Hmm… not looking good – perhaps they all slept later (a desirable notion). Then, as we hit the intersection of Blanco Galindo, the main drag out of town and to Quillacollo, the entire concept of our walk evolved. We were engulfed immediately by hundreds, some walking serious and steadfast in search of that good ol’ final goal, others cajoling with their friends, the same (sort of) aim in mind. Poco a poco you couldn’t disguise our disbelief as the hundreds turned to thousands, nay, hundreds of thousands! Pilgrims from La Paz, Tarija, Santa Cruz, Potosi, Argentina, Peru, and closer to hand, and further afield.

By the eighth k. our escort became thick as we realised that our legs were now fully rebelling the lack of rest and their collective realisation that 4.30am was no time to be walking.

*Interlude*

A quote from a fellow … a fellow… yep.

>>“Oh, I also have a really good political joke involving the Virgen de Urkupiña (who's known for her faithfulness). It's from the 1989 election. The three major candidates all went to Quillacollo to ask the virgin to intercede on their behalf. Goni asked to win the election; Paz Zamora asked to become presidet; Banzer asked to rule Bolivia. All three had their wish granted.”

You either get it or you don’t. I’m not interpreting today.

The throng (for that’s what it had become by kilometre 12) was a sight as the realisation kept hitting us that all these people just walked for their faith, in the middle of the night to pray to their lady. As you know (and sorry mum) I'm just not into the praying business, but I did have a deep respect for the incredible faith, and hope - an important aspect of life!

We could only estimate numbers at the best of times but as we finally made our way past the countless stalls, selling any miniature version of your desire (including mini $1000 bills, mini passports, mini campervans, mini suitcases, mini houses, mini blocks of land, mini semi-trailers…) - down the main drag of Quillacollo and beyond up the hill (mountain, in my head) and to the spectacle of the crowds that presented itself there, we decided – at least 500,000 souls for the taking. The pope never had it so good. I looked around to be struck solidly by the beauty of Mt. Tunari (the highest peak in the mountainous border of Cochabamba), flaked heavily by it's first snow of the year. The early morning mist skirted the hills, the plains were dewy and sweet, and the thousands seemed to stare with me, drinking in the wonder.

One of the many traditions we came to see was the notion of sledging some rock from the virgin’s stronghold, taking it home for good luck, and returning it the following year. Seemed like fun, but I found myself thinking of my Australian friend and Zen guide, Adrian, who journeyed 800ks into the desert on his bike, absentmindedly picked up some beautiful rocks and rode back. He was told by an indigenous fellow that it wasn’t right to remove what belongs to the land (including Aboriginal people by the way!). That clicked and he got on his bike and put them back where they belonged. I prefer to leave the earth as undisturbed as I can. Sounds hoity-toity but there it is. No piccis of me with a sledge hammer. Oh, and the whole notion of sacred rocks reminded me of Monkey Magic (irrespective of the many chained monkeys up on the hill being tortured for money (that is, force the petrified monkey to do tricks, take people's willingly offered money - sickening).

All up, one of the most amazing days I've spent on this continent. Thank you Bolivia.

I gotta get a drink … I mean, some sleep.

Photos and more later,

Chou.

Your Friendly Neighbourhood Bolivian Correspondent.

Are you a virgin? (Monty Python (to dispell any offense, or to exacerbate it...))

When you get up at 2am to carry a stone you cut out of a mountain 12ks for a virgin and her blessings for money, a new car, a healthy family, a visa, happiness, a job, money, then you surely are getting into the spirit of things. Even though one Bolivian fella called this Fiesta del Vergen de Urkupiña this Monday to Wednesday another excuse for a three day piss-up. Course, that brings up the question of what spirits you're getting into... hell, something's gotta keep you going at 2am, but I think a stiff rum will just send me off to lala land.

I'll take the visa *still running on his illegal alien status*

Bad vocals through Bolivia Day!

Can't go letting that last little bitch be the first thing people see when they log on for their slice of Bolivian life, so...

One word: Karaoke. More words: As many of you already know, I like it.

Bolivians like their Karaoke (there's a broad statement that I'm sure is harmless enough), and consequently there are a number of said bars stooping in their daggyness enduring countless hours of pain and suffering to the emotions and eardrums, at least on the northside.

I have had a drought of Karaokelessness since I left Australia, yet last Wednesday began a spate of disgusting regularity at four different bars in six nights, Monday's bar wasn't rid of our strains until 4.30am... naughty. Of course, there are many, MANY more Spanish language songs over the spattering of songs in English, but although Jackie would have been proud of my "Living on a Prayer", I'm building up to singing my aria of Spanish canciones, even if it does just end up being
La Bamba...

In other news, it was The National Day of Bolivia on the 6th (...and perhaps I should just forget the National Day of Bolivia 'cos I've written about it twice now, to be blessed with the opportunity of some Zen practice when the computer rebooted each time before I could post! A sign, or just a shit computer).

Either way, in the etherless posts I wax on generally about the contrast between the pride of this country, or at least this city, and the shit conditions it is in, and of course I then continue to relate that to generations of colonial and religious trauma (which didn't tangentiate into a discussion of the Morales government's attempts to separate religion from schools (overall a positive move in my 'umble opinion)). The exacerbation of my consternation was met yesterday with a long explanation to me (really really long!) about it all, to which most of my responses consisted only of that essential smile and nod routine (with the occasional positive affirmational grunt) - she was Brazilian, with much Spanish, but no English and I might have picked up the spirit of her words... it certainly looked like she had it all worked out...

Thousands of people lined the streets as even more thousands paraded between us to celebrate their flag-choked enthusiastic patriotism. The military might was scary, the marching girls tranquilo-ed that scaryness (as you can see I'm not only Spanglishing my language, but I'm doing it with poor grammar...)

So, save and go, save and go. A wise mantra.

Love to all.

Curiosity # 13

Why is it that Bolivians need to be so late for every damn thing. Or not turn up at all? Now, this isn't the case for EVERYone. Most of my English students turn up. But this is third who hasn't turned up in two days (letting me email in this spare hour). Maybe it's me *checks his armpits*.

Anyone got any genuine (or not) historical or cultural explanations for "Bolivian time"?

Your FNBC.

Banality # 12

How long does it take before I get used to the water taps saying "C" for "Crikey! That's not cold! That's hot!" and "F" for "Faaaaar out! That's Freezing!"

Un poco insight(o) en(to) cadadia Miguel

Capricorn
While this day is going to ultimately be a successful one, there are some business-related problems brewing that will affect your lifestyle. These problems could be coming out of your workplace, but they could also be at a store or restaurant you visit frequently. Delays and disruptions might slow you down and make you think twice. Where you spend your money and your time in the future will be affected. Nothing will invade your peaceful attitude, though.

I know, I know. But I can't resist. My three new English classes today will hopefully be successful: so far so good, except for one absent student which affected my lifestyle heaps! (I didn't get to spend as much time on the net!!). And I always get comments on my peaceful attitude, especially in the face of my robberies - of course I have every reason to be calm in comparison: I'd be far less peaceful if I was living on the streets of Cochabamba, or having to eke out a living selling fake rolex's...

On a Let's-make-Michael-feel-at-home note - I went to the cinema on Sunday night to see the "Pirates of the Carribean - Dead Man's Chest". While Johnny Depp just isn't the same when his lips don't make the shape of the words that he's not saying (I was helped along by the ample action scenes and by my companion who had very good Spanish), it was the first time I'd been to the cinema since leaving Australia and it took me a little by surprise when the lights came back up and I was surrounded by Bolivians "again". Left homesick... but don't send La Paz-Melbourne tickets yet! Like being turned into a newt - I got better (Python fans?).

Oh, and went out to the country with Luke, Marty and Annie to Annie's family's cute little cottage on Sunday too. Very pleasant - fed the geese, searched for fruit trees, drank some Taquiña and ate pollo sangas. Very colonial... yep.

Am holding my breath for the Virgin de Urkupiña festival coming up in two weeks, the biggest in the entire... region. The dancers are all practicing, the fever is reaching... fever pitch...

Chow time. So, chau,

Your FNBC.