Just chilling in a little Almuerzo joint - set meal restaurant. The waiter just asked me what i wanted for second course in rapid spanish. when he saw the blank look on my face and felt the 15s silence he chose one for me. good bloke. It's cheap here for a meal. 14 bs which is around 2 australian for a couple of courses and good service. Bolivia's good like that.
I've been feeling a bit under the weather recently and a tad homesick. i'll be glad to get out of La Paz. I want to be with nature, I feel like a bit of solitude.
Yesterday we visited the prison, the infamous San Pedro correctional facility made famous by an english inmate with his book 'Marching Powder'. Anything is possible in this prison. They have a whole new world in there. You have to BUY your prison cell, there are poor and rich sections to the prison. Cocaine is made INSIDE the prison. Tourists are allowed to go in, wives are allowed to go in and fuck their husbands. inmates regularly call prostitutes to fuck after they've fucked their wives... and they're allowed in also. Children live inside aswell - where else do they have to go? Every copper is probably corrupt. Crazy in there
We were met at Burger King on the Prado, a nice little plaza, by one of the wives of the inmates. I really liked her, it was such a short interaction though i felt we were both really relaxed and were able to have a great little conversation. Ney ney's falling for incarcerated cocaine dealers' wives. awesome.
We arrived at the prison and before going in scoped out any possible journalists snapping shots or taking footage of obvious tourists entering the prison.
We were searched for weapons or drugs and then shown to the cell we would have our main conversation with the inmates with
His name was 'jan' or something, a south african man. He had a skinny, carved out face probably due to the copious amounts of cocaine he had self admittedly taken. He estimated over the 1 and a half years he had been there he had snorted over half a kilogram though he had probably smoked a lot more in the form of base. supposedly you can smoke up to 25 grams of base a day, whereas with refined coke 2 grams would be heaps.
Had a bit of a break from writing there and searched around for a decent net cafe with a fast connection no luck. ended up at one joint waiting for entourage to load whilst playing diablo 2 and GTA san andreas. Reminds me of back in the day chopping heads on the good ol' PS2
Got 10m in after 45m loading and decided to give up.
anyway back to the prison tour
Thedude had been in the army back in South Africa, he'd kill 12yr old militant African boys. He told us it takes 4 years to get past the mental scarring anof army life and brutal murder. Another man mentioned in 'Marchy Powder' Came in to chat as well. He was caught for some rediculous amount of coke, supposedly 4 tonnes or the like. You could tell this man thought he was the biggest legend going around. He talked about the way he handed himself in to save others who were suspected of involvement. Bullshit. I bet he was caught outright and made that story up to impress others and elevate his 'celebrity' status. That aside, he was entertaining. Jan seemed a bit on edge and his pupils seemed dilated, maybe he had done a line before hand to let the conversation flow and be a good host however it seemed it wasn't doing him any favours because the conversation at times seemed to lul and awkwardness ensued. His plans after leaving prison in 6 years time is to go straight back to drug smuggling which he was locked up for. Smart dude, rehabilitated fo sure. Prisons work everyone.
I'm definitely glad i went. We were shown around and i felt a connection to how many if not all the prisoners might feel. They have accepted their situation and live life on a day to day basis. In fact, some addicts prefer life in prison. They can do as much cocaine as they like without fear of getting in trouble, and because it is manufactured right there in the prison, they are never short of the best product available.
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Monday, January 10, 2011
Bolivia, what a ride
Uyuni was a bit of a tourist town, more expensive than i expected for a small town in Bolivia.
On arrival we thanked our driver who had driven us through the Andes and into Bolivia. he seemed like such an easy going fun loving person. that is generally the impression i get of Bolivians. just put a smile on and enjoy yourself. However there are those who think every white person is a dirty American and give you a big greasy. I find that interesting since they are surrounded by American media to an extent you would think not possible due to the language barrier. Their idea of true love and all that romantic shit is blown out of all proportion. but maybe they had that idea of love and happily ever after before any American influence and now it just seems to have a US twist.
The bus ride from Uyuni to La Paz was a bit of a nightmare. after two hours of the most extreme jolty bumpy ride imaginable you´d think it would stop and we´d get on to smooth bitumen. No, this is Bolivia and the entire trip consisted of me getting air off my seat after every bump and landing on the armrest or something.
Zac had some obnoxious twit sitting next to him the entire ride. he spread his little legs out as far as possible, a smug look on his face (even when he was sleeping). Supposedly they had a constant foot- leg space war. i was next to the window so that´s probably why i was able to drift off. The little man was a peculiar match for zac the bearding wild man.
When we arrived to La Paz we sat in the bus for 45m thinking we were moving due to some reason i now cannot remember. we were eventually confronted by the driver who gave us this weird as fuck look proceeded by him kicking us off the bus. fair nuff.
we walked out of the terminal in a daze - 7 am in the morning, hugely interrupted sleep thinking we were going to be abducted by dodgey taxi drivers. it only costs 10 bolivianos ($1.50 AU) to go anywhere in the city though you have to let the cab driver know that you´re on to it. not bad ey considering in melbs you´d get charge minimum 10-15 for relatively short trips.
Our first hostel was pretty average. When we checked out two days later they tried to charge us the fee of our entire dorm. people think you´re so fuckn dumb. you really need to look after your money here- these people are poor and if they see there´s money to be made they´ll take the opportunity. Hey, i´d do the same.
I was handed a fake 100 Bs note (around $15 AU) and didn´t realise until the taxi driver we were buying something from gave it back to me repeating the word ´falso´. the club i went to the other night had these two seedy barmaids. you would give them 100bs and they would give you 10bs back when all you asked for was a bottle of water (10bs). what the fuck, where´s my 90 change? the first time i said something and she showed me the apparent 20 note i gave her. ( she took some random 20bs note out of the cashier). now the 20 looks similar to the 100 when you´re pissed and there´s not much light in that club, so the first time i thought i was wrong and let it go. the second time however, i checked that shit 3 times to see if it was truly 100 bs. she pulled her dirty fuckn trick on my again. her little routine failed, i´m pretty awesome you know. she showed me the ´original´ 20 that i supposedly gave her. she couldn´t handle my threateningly james bond grill stare. she kept telling me it was a 20 i gave her over and over.
me: i´m not leaving until you give my fucking note back hoe bitch slut fatty.
her: estoy en serio amigo!!
me: FUCK UP GIVE ME MY MONEY.
her: que?!?!?
me: (just look at her for 2 minutes, not letting anyone else order drinks)
Finally she realises resistance is futile. What followed is me telling everyone how cool i was for not getting scammed by the barmaid. yeah man, that was quite admirable of you wasn´t it.
we rode down the self proclaimed ´world´s most dangerous road´ the other day on these dodgy bikes. should have got the full bike suspension. Half the time i have a budget mindset and the other half i´m a hedonistic roman orgy goer. it balances out ok, but only the bank statement will tell. [it did tell, i blew 2000 in 1 month in bolivia which is fucking rediculous seeing as everything is so cheap]
the bar at the wild rover hostel is awesome - hangover food and dope beers. A pilsener will fill nearly two schooners and cost you about 2 dollars. I haven´t tried the cocaine here but have been told it´s very average - serves them right for trying it, them devils. in fact one guy who took some said he was seeing devils, supposedly they mix it with crystal meth but i don´t see how that´s cost effective because meth is expensive. Well, they mix it with something, I didn´t know coke made you see demons.
We´re going to the San Pedro prison, the correctional facility the book ´Marching Powder´ made mildly famous, or infamous depending on who you ask. I recommend reading it. I´ve been emailing José, an inmate at the prison. definitely keen on meeting him. will report back on that.
all we´ve done here apart from the death road tour is drink, go out and drink more and finally drink a little bit more when we get back and then try to get to sleep. The day after a night out consists of me being depressed, a nature characterised by nihilistic angst. Some would call it a luxurious thought but I would add ´a fucking nightmare´ additionally.
I will discontinue my writing at this point due to 2 amazingly beautiful Swedish girls arriving in my room and being awfully distracting. peace!
the next post will be from the 27th of September.
On arrival we thanked our driver who had driven us through the Andes and into Bolivia. he seemed like such an easy going fun loving person. that is generally the impression i get of Bolivians. just put a smile on and enjoy yourself. However there are those who think every white person is a dirty American and give you a big greasy. I find that interesting since they are surrounded by American media to an extent you would think not possible due to the language barrier. Their idea of true love and all that romantic shit is blown out of all proportion. but maybe they had that idea of love and happily ever after before any American influence and now it just seems to have a US twist.
The bus ride from Uyuni to La Paz was a bit of a nightmare. after two hours of the most extreme jolty bumpy ride imaginable you´d think it would stop and we´d get on to smooth bitumen. No, this is Bolivia and the entire trip consisted of me getting air off my seat after every bump and landing on the armrest or something.
Zac had some obnoxious twit sitting next to him the entire ride. he spread his little legs out as far as possible, a smug look on his face (even when he was sleeping). Supposedly they had a constant foot- leg space war. i was next to the window so that´s probably why i was able to drift off. The little man was a peculiar match for zac the bearding wild man.
When we arrived to La Paz we sat in the bus for 45m thinking we were moving due to some reason i now cannot remember. we were eventually confronted by the driver who gave us this weird as fuck look proceeded by him kicking us off the bus. fair nuff.
we walked out of the terminal in a daze - 7 am in the morning, hugely interrupted sleep thinking we were going to be abducted by dodgey taxi drivers. it only costs 10 bolivianos ($1.50 AU) to go anywhere in the city though you have to let the cab driver know that you´re on to it. not bad ey considering in melbs you´d get charge minimum 10-15 for relatively short trips.
Our first hostel was pretty average. When we checked out two days later they tried to charge us the fee of our entire dorm. people think you´re so fuckn dumb. you really need to look after your money here- these people are poor and if they see there´s money to be made they´ll take the opportunity. Hey, i´d do the same.
I was handed a fake 100 Bs note (around $15 AU) and didn´t realise until the taxi driver we were buying something from gave it back to me repeating the word ´falso´. the club i went to the other night had these two seedy barmaids. you would give them 100bs and they would give you 10bs back when all you asked for was a bottle of water (10bs). what the fuck, where´s my 90 change? the first time i said something and she showed me the apparent 20 note i gave her. ( she took some random 20bs note out of the cashier). now the 20 looks similar to the 100 when you´re pissed and there´s not much light in that club, so the first time i thought i was wrong and let it go. the second time however, i checked that shit 3 times to see if it was truly 100 bs. she pulled her dirty fuckn trick on my again. her little routine failed, i´m pretty awesome you know. she showed me the ´original´ 20 that i supposedly gave her. she couldn´t handle my threateningly james bond grill stare. she kept telling me it was a 20 i gave her over and over.
me: i´m not leaving until you give my fucking note back hoe bitch slut fatty.
her: estoy en serio amigo!!
me: FUCK UP GIVE ME MY MONEY.
her: que?!?!?
me: (just look at her for 2 minutes, not letting anyone else order drinks)
Finally she realises resistance is futile. What followed is me telling everyone how cool i was for not getting scammed by the barmaid. yeah man, that was quite admirable of you wasn´t it.
we rode down the self proclaimed ´world´s most dangerous road´ the other day on these dodgy bikes. should have got the full bike suspension. Half the time i have a budget mindset and the other half i´m a hedonistic roman orgy goer. it balances out ok, but only the bank statement will tell. [it did tell, i blew 2000 in 1 month in bolivia which is fucking rediculous seeing as everything is so cheap]
the bar at the wild rover hostel is awesome - hangover food and dope beers. A pilsener will fill nearly two schooners and cost you about 2 dollars. I haven´t tried the cocaine here but have been told it´s very average - serves them right for trying it, them devils. in fact one guy who took some said he was seeing devils, supposedly they mix it with crystal meth but i don´t see how that´s cost effective because meth is expensive. Well, they mix it with something, I didn´t know coke made you see demons.
We´re going to the San Pedro prison, the correctional facility the book ´Marching Powder´ made mildly famous, or infamous depending on who you ask. I recommend reading it. I´ve been emailing José, an inmate at the prison. definitely keen on meeting him. will report back on that.
all we´ve done here apart from the death road tour is drink, go out and drink more and finally drink a little bit more when we get back and then try to get to sleep. The day after a night out consists of me being depressed, a nature characterised by nihilistic angst. Some would call it a luxurious thought but I would add ´a fucking nightmare´ additionally.
I will discontinue my writing at this point due to 2 amazingly beautiful Swedish girls arriving in my room and being awfully distracting. peace!
the next post will be from the 27th of September.
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