Suckers in Sucre

DSC04661police.JPG

This blog entry about the events of Sunday, January 25, 2004 was originally posted on January 26, 2004.

DAY 99: After a late night in the “party dorm,” Zoe, Sam and I just slept in until we had to get up for our check-out time at noon.  We got our gear together, sorted out our laundry to bring to a laundromat and went back yet again to the Joyride Cafe for much needed “Desayunos de Ch’aqui”, the “Hangover breakfasts.”

By the time we were done eating eggs, ham and hash browns, it was siesta period in town, and most of the museums we wanted to check out were closed for mid-day.  We killed time in an internet cafe listening to the attendant’s medley of 80s songs.  After blogging and instant messaging for a couple of hours, we went off to find the Casa de la Libertad near the police station (picture above) for a little culture on our last afternoon in the judicial capital of Bolivia.  However on the way trying to find it, we hit a snag — Zoe realized she didn’t have her wallet, and she was convinced someone had snagged it.

We went back through the plaza to the internet cafe to retrace our steps.  There was no way anyone could have taken the wallet from Zoe’s zippered bag, but it didn’t hurt to follow the same path we took to refresh her memory.

“Five hundred fucking bolivianos and my bank card!” a frantic Zoe said.  “It’s no the money, it’s the principle.  No, it’s not the principle, it’s the feeling that someone knicked it!”  She went ahead in a frenzy asking people we encountered on the way while Sam and I hung back.  We kept our calm sucking on some of the Sour Skittles I had with me.

“I bet you it’s in the bottom of her bag,” Sam confided in me (later permitting me to write about it here).  “But I can’t tell her or she’ll think I’m patronizing her.”  Apparently something like this had happened before.

Zoe gave up and went to a phone center to cancel her card in the U.K.  Without any money, Sam had to pay for the long distance call.  On our way out of the store, Zoe suddenly found something in the “secret” pocket in the back of the new bag she bought in Tarabuco the day before

“Guys, you won’t believe this.”

Zoe went back to the phone booth to try and quickly uncancel the card she had all the time.  With the day getting shorter and our bus departure times approaching, Sam and I went off to pick up our laundry.  “I knew she’d find it in her bag,” Sam told me as we stopped off at a street vendor. 

“Hey, that woman is breast feeding,” I said, my mind obviously somewhere else.  I bought three packs of Oreos for my nighttime bus journey from the woman with the baby sucking away at her nipple.


ZOE WAS BACK AT THE HOSTEL when Sam and I arrived like Mr. and Mrs. Klaus with a big bag full of clean clothes.  We refolded and rolled our clothes, repacked our bags — Zoe was a lot calmer than she was just an hour before.

“Sorry about that,” she unnecessarily apologized to me.

“That’s okay,” I answered.  “It’s going to be on the internet in two days.”


THE THREE OF US split a taxi to the bus terminal together but split up for our two separate 5:30 buses. 

“I guess this is goodbye again,” Sam said.

“You know where to find me,” I answered.

We bid our farewells to each other and hopped on our respective night buses:  theirs bound sixteen hours west to La Paz, mine bound sixteen hours east to Santa Cruz.  Two of my sixteen hours were killed with a Spanish-subtitled screening of Romeo Must Die on the video monitors.  I watched it while munching on some of the Oreos I bought from that breast-feeding vendor, wishing I had some milk to go with it like her baby did.






Next entry: Keeping Cool in Santa Cruz

Previous entry: Another Day in The Trinidad Show




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Comments for “Suckers in Sucre”

  • i was right you’re posting. nice.

    Posted by .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address)  on  01/26  at  06:03 PM


  • lovely!  lactophilia…

    Posted by hanalei  on  01/26  at  06:38 PM


  • woohoo…oreos and milk.

    Hanalei: nice name…is that your real name?

    Posted by .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address)  on  01/26  at  06:53 PM


  • mmmmm….oreos

    Posted by .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address)  on  01/26  at  07:19 PM


  • “i’ve got nipples too, can you milk me?”

    Posted by .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address)  on  01/26  at  08:06 PM


  • lol markyt!

    Santa Cruz here we come!

    Posted by .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address)  on  01/27  at  01:34 AM


  • got milk?

    Posted by .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address)  on  01/27  at  02:28 AM


  • Erik, I was just curious and of course this is just between you and me!!  I find myself feeling a little sad when you have to depart from some of the friends you’ve met along your trip, like Laura, Sam, Zoe and Gilbert.
    Do you find it tough or lonely going back to being alone again, after having people there to share your adventures with (or is that just a female thing?)  Sorry, I know i’m touching on your masculine side there, but I want tell anyone.  Like I said it’s just between us (LOL!!).
    Bren
    P.S.  of course it seems as though no matter where you go you seem to run into people you’ve met along the way.  VERY COOL!!

    Posted by .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address)  on  01/27  at  02:41 AM


  • shoveling snow sucks!

    Posted by .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address)  on  01/27  at  01:13 PM


  • man, now i want oreos. thanx.

    Posted by .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address)  on  01/27  at  02:34 PM


  • BRENDA:  Well, when you travel alone you sort of have to have the attitude that soldiers at war have, i.e. “it doesn’t matter if you get shot, because you’re already dead.” 

    As morbid as an analogy as that is, I suppose on the solo backpacker trail, “it doesn’t matter if the people you meet leave you’re life because you’re already alone.”

    In the beginning it takes some time to get used to the coming and going of people, but after a while, you get to the point that you already know you will leave someone—as soon as you meet them. 

    Recurring “characters” (i.e. Navid, Lara, Sam, Zoe, Gilbert) are just sort of “life’s little bonuses” that happen along the way, I guess.  (If I really am living in “The Trinidad Show,” please someone renew a contract!)

    “It happens sometimes… Friends come in an out of your life like busboys in a restaurant.”
    - The Writer, “Stand By Me”

    Posted by .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address)  on  01/27  at  10:20 PM


  • Erik:  You should point BnE to the MT-Blacklist plugin here:

    http://www.jayallen.org/comment_spam/

    With that in place, I’m afraid your deflector shield will be quite operational when the spammers arrive… “It’s a trap!”

    You should also get them on the ball with getting that MT version over 2.64…

    Posted by Tony  on  01/27  at  11:22 PM


  • TONY:  BnA is going to close comments on entries that are weeks old… I suppose that’s a temporary resolve?  If not, it’ll be time to bust out the Ewoks.

    Posted by .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address)  on  01/28  at  03:50 PM


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This blog post is one of over 500 travel dispatches from the trip blog, "The Global Trip 2004: Sixteen Months Around The World (Or Until Money Runs Out, Whichever Comes First)," originally hosted by BootsnAll.com. It chronicled a trip around the world from October 2003 to March 2005, which encompassed travel through thirty-seven countries in North America, South America, Africa, Europe, and Asia. It was this blog that "started it all," where Erik evolved and honed his style of travel blogging — it starts to come into focus around the time he arrives in Africa.

Praised and recommended by USA Today, RickSteves.com, and readers of BootsnAll and Lonely Planet's Thorn Tree, The Global Trip blog was selected by the editors of PC Magazine for the "Top 100 Sites You Didn't Know You Couldn't Live Without" (in the travel category) in 2005.


Next entry:
Keeping Cool in Santa Cruz

Previous entry:
Another Day in The Trinidad Show




THE GLOBAL TRIP GLOSSARY

Confused at some of the jargon that's developed with this blog and its readers over the years? Here's what they mean:

BFFN: acronym for "Best Friend For Now"; a friend made on the road, who will share travel experiences for the time being, only to part ways and lose touch with

The Big Trip: the original sixteen month around-the-world trip that started it all, spanning 37 countries in 5 continents over 503 days (October 2003–March 2005)

NIZ: acronym for "No Internet Zone"; a place where there is little to no Internet access, thus preventing dispatches from being posted.

SBR: acronym for "Silent Blog Reader"; a person who has regularly followed The Global Trip blog for years without ever commenting or making his/her presence known to the rest of the reading community. (Breaking this silence by commenting is encouraged.)

Stupid o'clock: any time of the early morning that you have to wake up to catch a train, bus, plane, or tour. Usually any time before 6 a.m. is automatically “stupid o’clock.”

The Trinidad Show: a nickname of The Global Trip blog, used particularly by travelers that have been written about, who are self-aware that they have become "characters" in a long-running story — like characters in the Jim Carrey movie, The Truman Show.

WHMMR: acronym for "Western Hemisphere Monday Morning Rush"; an unofficial deadline to get new content up by a Monday morning, in time for readers in the western hemisphere (i.e. the majority North American audience) heading back to their computers.

1981ers: people born after 1981. Originally, this was to designate groups of young backpackers fresh out of school, many of which were loud, boorish and/or annoying. However, time has passed and 1981ers have matured and have been quite pleasant to travel with. The term still refers to young annoying backpackers, regardless of year — I guess you could call them "1991ers" in 2013 — young, entitled millennials on the road these days, essentially.




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