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.