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Santa
Cruz Scrapbook |
July
10, 2003 - Santa Cruz, Bolivia |
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It's
certainly not
the most picturesque place in the world. Dirty streets
lined with drab cement buildings. But I've grown quite
fond of Santa Cruz over the last few months. Perhaps 'comfortable
with' is a better description than fond of. Santa Cruz
is the second largest and most modern city in Bolivia
with a more temperate climate than most of the country.
There was always lots to do and it is relatively easy
to get things done there. I got my tooth, my car and computer
fixed there. For me it was a great pit stop between excursions.
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So without
a story line to hook them all together, here's an assortment
of photos and captions from my Santa Cruz Scrapbook. |
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$10
AND IT"S YOURS! The owner of this cool looking ride
offered to sell it to me. I almost took him up on
it! |
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The
owner of this custom cycle was very proud of his
mobility. He didn't say much but he was very happy
to have his picture taken. |
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MY
PAL PANCHO lived in Santa Cruz. His car was a rusted
bucket of bolts. In the short time he drove me around
he had three flat tires. Amazingly enough it ran
on NATURAL GAS! |
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Fuel Cell
Panchos' custom seat cushion |
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| Manuel,
my mechanic and quite a character. |
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A curiosity
in Santa Cruz were the Mennonites. Suddenly in the midst
of the Latinos and Indigenous types would appear tall
white guys in cowboy hats and overalls! Women in full
length dark dresses and sun bonnets. |
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They
live in their own agricultural communities and come
to the city to shop. There is a neighborhood of
merchants that caters to them. Although they don't
socialize with the locals, they seem to get along
just fine. |
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You
can get just about anything you want in the market,
except an appetite. The sights and smells were overwhelming. |
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I
attended couple of festival in Santa Cruz. The Festival
of Traditions showed off the cultural heritage and
the women. They claim to have the most beautiful
women in Bolivia. I would not argue the point. |
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One
tradition that didn't make much sense was climbing
to the top of a giant greased pole for the prizes
tied to the top. No safety equipment. A fall would
have been fatal. No wonder there was a crowd.
Groups of nomadic
indigenous people slept in the streets. They would
send their children into traffic at stop lights
to beg.
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Child
Protective Services is unfortunately not a priority.
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" All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveler
is unaware."
- Martin Buber
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