Squash Soup, The Fugitive, A Bad Bus Ride and Toe Surgery (2007.01.27)

Today I'm just going to talk about my day. It wasn't a terribly good day or a terribly horrible day, but it certainly had its ups and downs. Yesterday I left my site to go to Santa Cruz, en route to Cochabamba for the weekend for a workshop on teaching english. I had my list of things to get done in the city, mostly things that had been on my list of things to do in the city for the past 3 or 4 months, but I was determined to get them done today. It did not bode well that the bus on the way into Montero puttered out about an hour before we got there...after waiting about a half an hour and watching the driver and his sidekick loosen and tighten bolts on the engine, I decided I didn't feel like waiting around for them to teach themselves how to fix it through trial and error, and luckily just then a few taxis (who had heard a bus had broken down) showed up and whisked us off to Montero in a jiffy. Once I got through Montero and into Santa Cruz, I headed for the Peace Corps office, hoping to find it deserted at 9am and allowing me to get all the things accomplished I wanted. This of course, was not the case. The office was in fact, bustling with activity. This was because the office was in fact moving again. I say again because it had only been in its current location for about 3 months. They had disconnected the computers, so I couldn't do some of the things I needed to, but the upswing was that I got some mail & packages, which always makes me happy.

I met up with my pal Rudy later in the day (after not really getting anything accomplished) and we ran a few errands, ate some yummy ice cream and met up with a couple other folks for dinner at a german bistro. I had some of this squash soup that was just about the best thing I've eaten since I've been in Bolivia. My bus was leaving so I had to head out before the rest of the food got there, but the yummy soup in my tummy made me happy enough. At the bus station, I checked my backpack at the counter and found my way to seat 49 on the bus. I had bought a "buscama" ticket which means "bed bus" so the seat I had reclined back pretty far and even had a little platform to pull down to put your legs on. So, the 10 hour bus ride was usually at least tolerable since it wasn't too much of a challenge to get some rest. I was also happy to learn that the in-flight movie for this busride would be "The Fugitive" with Harrison Ford! No matter that it was in Spanish, I pretty have the movie memorized so I just said all the dialouge in my head.

Then things began to go downhill. My left big toe had been sore for a couple of days and the pain decided to reach its pinnacle on this bus ride. I pulled up my foot to check it out and saw that it was kind of swollen and turning sort of a purplish color...caused from the beginnings of an ingrown toenail, I believe. I had gone to a podiatrist sometime during high school when I was having a similar problem and after digging my toenail out of my toe and looking at some x-rays she determined that I had "abnormally wide" toenails and that the real way to fix it was to have surgery on both my big toes, putting me in crutches for a few months, and that I would have to work really hard to keep it clean to prevent infection. Not to mention I wouldn't be able to go swimming for some reason. I declined the surgery and decided to just go living the rough life of a person with abnormally wide toenails. It was hard, but I managed.

Thinking back to that day, the prospect of being on crutches with a high risk of infection were two things that did not bode well for Bolivia. The phrase "high risk of infection" in Bolivia is about as everyday as the phrase "breathe." Regardless, the pain was keeping me from sleeping, so I did something rash...I squeezed it. White goo began oozing out from the sideof my toenail, but the pressure was relieved and I could get some sleep. I resolved to do more thorough surgery once I got to Cochabamba in the morning. I actually kind of fantasized about it.

Around 4am or so, I woke up to a stopped bus. Usually this wouldn't be a big deal...busses tend to stop for many reasons...random roadside stands along the road where people could by snacks and use the bathroom, perhaps a flat tire, or maybe a cow in the road. But, once I realized the engine was off, I knew something was amiss. I gazed out the window and could barely make out in the moonlight a huge line of busses and trucks in front of us, all at a dead stop. There must have been some sort of wash out, causing all traffic on this "new road" to be brought to a halt. The next 8 hours or so were highlighted by the engine starting up, us moving about 50 yards, then the engine turning off again. Not wanting to perpetuate the crapiness of the situation, I refused to check the clock on my cell phone until I was sure we were moving again without stopping. It was a challenge, but I pulled it off. Around 8am I hopped off the bus and did a little walk around of the area, which was pretty nice...there was a river rushing by and New Zealand like mountains around, covered with vegetation and fog. Having just re-read "The Hobbit" and "The Fellowship of the Ring" I couldn't help to imagine we were in the middle of the Misty Mountains. Alas, there were no hobbits, elves or Uruk-Hai to be found, and no eagles to come along and take me on my way.

Luckily, in the packages I'd received earlier that day, I had gotten all I needed to survived. I had about 3/4 of a Nalgene bottle filled with water (thanks Jammers) for hydration and a couple of Clif Bars (thanks Kreiner) for sustenance. I had a couple of Rolling Stone magazines (thanks Mom and Dad) as well as an delightfully entertaining book called "The Sex Lives of Cannibals" by J. Maarten Troost (thanks Chelsea). The book was about a guy who went with his girlfriend to live on an equatorial pacific island, thousands of miles from anything. It's a hilarious account of his experiences with locals, dogs, lack of good food and just off the wall cultural differences. Needless to say, I was laughing out loud for a good portion of it, able to relate to a lot of what this guy was going through. I reccommend it to anyone who has spent a good amount of time in a developing country and got a little frustrated at time.

Well, eventually, the water dried up, the two Clif Bars I had on me got eaten, and a splitting headache began to set in. We had moved about a kilometer since we stopped and I was beginning to wonder if I should just start walking. Finally, the engine rumbled to life and stayed there, and we were on our way. I stole a glance at my phone...noon. We had been sitting for about 8 hours. Yuck. I never found out what the hold up was, but I imagine the road washed out, allowing for only one lane of traffic to pass, and we had been on the bad end for 8 hours. This perplexed me, however, since I saw no traffic pass us coming from the other direction during our non-moving hours. My headache just got worse, and I kicked myself leaving my excedrin in my pack that was stowed under the bus. This kicking of myself just aggravated my painful toe even more.

About 3 1/2 hours later, we made it to Coch. At the closest sign of something I recognized I de-bussed and started walking. Food was the only thing on my mind and I eventually found a place I recognized and made my way to a pizza joint, simply hoping it would be open. The majority of restaurants in Bolivia are only open during peak eating hours, which is kind of a pain. But the doors were open and in I walked. Every table was empty and there was no one at the counter...although I heard dishes clanging in the background. I yelled a "good afternoon" and a few "hellos" and finally a women came out, who enthusiastically assured me they were open. I sat down and ordered a ham, pineapple and mushroom pizza (no Adriatico's, but it did the trick) and dug my excedrin out of my pack and took two of them with the deliciously cold bottle of water I'd ordered. Perceiving that I was a gringo weary from travel, they turned on some American music for their only customer...the "clasicos" they call it. This is a tape of songs that is sold all over Bolivia that starts out with "Hotel California" and includes mega hits such as "Total Eclipse of the Heart", "Winds of Change" by the Scorpions, and my personal favorite "Heaven" by Bryan Adams, which brought back memories of Kirk Strohman lip synching into the pancake flipper while making breakfast at 288 E. 15th. As the excedrin began to kick in, the pizza showed up, the music soothed me, my mood began to greatly improve. I went to the bathroom to enjoy the nice clean atmostphere and saw that I had about 67 green pieces of oregano caught in my teeth, a skill I inherited from my mom. When I paid, I asked the nice lady if they had any toothpicks and flashed her a smile. She must have caught site of the jungle growing in my teeth because she brought me not one but FOUR toothpicks.

I headed out with a full tummy to find a place to stay that night. I had heard from a few volunteers that the nice hostal where we usually stay was full for the weekend, so I hailed down a cab to take me to a different one. I asked him to take me to "avenida 25 de mayo" and he looked at me like I had asked him to take me into downtown Bahgdad and drove off. I found this funny, since taxi drivers are usually all kinds of excited to overcharge gringos. The nice hostal wasn't that far of a walk, so I decided to enjoy the nice non-bus environment and hoof it. I got there and asked if there was any space and she told me "of course" and that is how I found myself in this room, with an internet connection, typing on my own computer, looking forward to a nice soft bed and a hot shower. This day just keeps getting better.

I got out my new, nice and sharp leatherman tool (thanks Kirk) and disinfected it with my zippo lighter (thanks mom and dad). I saw with my foot on my knee, successfully cutting off the majority of the circulation to my foot, hopefully dulling the pain. I began to dig and peel and pop on my toe...got rid of some dead skin and a lot more of the white goo, but after about 5 minutes it just got too painful, so I cleaned it out and determined that it was good eough.

Tonight I plan on laying low, finishing up my book and sleeping like a rock on the nice soft bed with a cool breeze blowing through the window. Tomorrow after breakfast I'm planning to go out to visit my old host family, which should be a fun time. I know this wasn't a very adventure like story, but I hope you were at least entertained. All for now, be well.

Ben