Weather: Burning, boiling, expiringly hot.
Llama Count: I encounter the plastic one from a couple of days ago again. It looks even more slobbered on than last time.
Happy First Day of Spring!
Happy National Day of Students and Children!
Happy some dreadful Bolivian attempt at Valentines Day (like the English version, but with more helium balloons and teddy bears.)!
So all altruism for volunteering in a nursery is today shown in its true colours... Its basically because I wanted to go to a party. I arrive to be greeted by fifteen mini princesses dressed up to the nines, and about twenty soldiers, and a couple of children looking sulky in the rather less glitzy fancy dress. The children perform various dances, to tunes ranging from Bolivian folk music, to the wheels on the bus go round and round and round and round and round and round... it was an incredibly popular choice. Then it is time for repeated refrains of a wedding march, as four year old Lilly Anne is crowned and given a sceptre. She looks a bit like a May Queen in a first holy communion dress, with a lot of plastic glitter, and inordinate layers of blusher.
And then I try to have lunch... It is boiling and I think my immune system has entered system overload after another morning with snotty children.. I feel dreadfully sick again, I need to go to actually pay the Spanish school today so go for a long slow walk up the hill. Luckily the Spanish teacher also considers herself a doctor, and diagnoses altitude sickness brought on by heat. I am fed some tea, which has definitely been more than friends with coca. Fifteen minutes later I am no longer about to vomit all over the table, and feel well again if completely wiped out, and as with every ill symptom I seem to get out here, dreadfully homesick.
Spanish teacher says I should be fine now. I have a very slow afternoon feeling sorry for myself, missing England, and packing up to catch a bus to La Paz. I decide the latter is probably a good idea as all I want to do is sleep, and everyone in the hostel is going out partying.
It turns out to be a brilliant decision, twelve hours of wonderful sleep later I am in La Paz.
La Paz in Sanish means the peace. At least the Bolivians find irony amusing.
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