A Sort of Homecoming Followed by Election Day

We returned from our trip Saturday night around 9pm, when my sisters and little cousins came running out of the house to greet me in the street…one of them had even bought a bottle of soda to celebrate…it was strange to have a feeling of “it feels good to be home” in a place where I’ve only lived for two months. Perhaps it was just the tiredness from tech week, but I was very glad to be back and get back into my routine. My sisters had even written “We miss you Benjamín on my door with a black magic marker. Sweet little kids. There was a party next door at grandma’s house for another cousin’s birthday, so I went over for a bit and danced some and chatted with my host relatives. There was a family friend who supposedly spoke English, which always means they try to speak to me in English. His vocabulary consisted of “Hello! Excuse me! Shutup! Excuse me! Family! How are you! Shut up!” And randomly, he was wearing an Ohio State sweatshirt. I tried to explain to him that it’s where I went to school but he was too focused on his awesome English to understand. One of my mom’s cousin’s, Reuben, is obsessed with Jean Claude Van Damme movies and always loves talking to me about him and other people jump in, arguing that Stallone or Bruce Lee are better, but ol’ Reuben sticks to his guns. It’s strange the things from American Culture that the people pick up on here.

I enjoyed my rest in my warm mosquito net bed and woke up to my regular breakfast of hot chocolate and butter bread. This day (Sunday the 2nd of July) was election day in Bolivia. It was a special election, to elect the representatives who will write the new Bolivian constitution. The current president, Evo Morales, is from the party known as MAS, which stands for “Movemiento A Socialismo” or “Movement Towards Socialism.” MAS also is the Spanish word for “more” so they have tricky little political slogans like “Contigo somos MAS.” (With you we are MORE). Evo has huge support from the local country folks, mostly the poor people. He himself is an indigenous guy, the first indigenous president the country has ever seen. For the first time ever, the people finally have a president that looks like the majority of the citizens and doesn’t have the interest of only the rich aristocracy in mind. I think all in all it’s a good thing for the people here, but he ends up putting his foot in his mouth a lot. I guess the U.S. isn’t the only country with a president whose strength isn’t public speaking. It’s ok, it’s not like it’s that important, right?

Election day here is quite an experience. First of all, it’s the law that you HAVE to vote…they don’t give you the option. If you have money in a bank here in Bolivia, they will freeze your account if you can’t prove that you voted. Even if you go and abstain, you have to go. They don’t sell any alcohol in the country for 48 hours prior to election day, and meetings of more than 5 people are prohibited. No one is even allowed to drive, there is no public transportation. They take it pretty seriously. I walked with my parents to the local high school, where they had to vote, and my brother was even working one of the voting booths. It was cool to see how pretty much the whole country stopped so everyone could vote. When we got back, the party continued at grandma’s house, everyone came back over for lunch and the festivities went on. There were a couple of guys there playing Bolivian music, which I got on film and was really really cool. I also kept getting a lot of compliments from my host family (aunts and uncles) telling me how much they admired me for what I was doing and that I was a very good person. The dad of the two of my cousins that I teach English to especially had some nice things to say…it was days like this that help me realize why I’m here. I spent the afternoon making jokes and drinking the Bolivian beverage of choice…a corn beer called “chicha”…out of pineapple. It was quite fun. I even had a really great conversation about another issue on the ballot called “autonomía” which would give the 9 states of Bolivia a little more independence. The way it works now is that everyone pays federal taxes and they get evenly redistributed, which leads to the richer states with oil reserves and manufacturing are supporting the people of the poorer states. So, obviously, the people of the poorer states DON’T want autonomía and the richer ones do. My mom’s other cousin Jorge always asks me about what I think about politics…I guess because I’m from the states. The vote was really just to serve as a suggestion for the new constitution writers, so it will be interesting to see what happens.

Late in the afternoon my dad took me to a local watering hole where there was a real-life cockfight going on. I chalked it up to another cultural integration learning experience which I thought was pretty cool. The taped on these metal talons to the roosters and let them fight for 40 minutes or until one dies or they call it off. People were betting and cheering and I was taking pictures. Pretty cool. Yeah. Sweet.

When I got back to the party, we danced a little more, drank a little more and heard some more music. It was kind of strange, I felt like I could have very well been at my Aunt Becky’s house, discussing this and that with Uncle Ron or Aunt Joyce or whomever. Without a doubt the best part of the day was when I decided to head home and Uncle Oscar gave me his Bolivian hat…initially I told him I couldn’t take it but he insisted. It’s really awesome and when I wear it I feel like the dogs bark at me less and the Bolivians in the street talk to me more…which is great. And it matches my beard. Check out the picture below. Do I look Bolivian to you?