Our Spanish tutor seemed suprised when we said we were going to see the ruins at Tiwanaku after the lesson. It would take at least two hours he warned (in Spanish). And he'd already given copious amounts of tarea (homework) to do. But undetered, we set off to find the right minibus.
"Waki-waki-waki-waki-waki-waki-waki-waki!!"
"Waki-waki-waki-waki-waki-waki-waki-waki!!"
Leaning out of the moving vehicle, a rather large cholita lady in traditional bowler hat and blanket tried to drum up trade for the journey to Tiwanaku. We slowly bump our way along cobbled streets out of La Paz, up to El Alto, where more passengers are gradually enticed onboard.
One couple agrees to the 10 boliviano fare only if they can pick up their shopping along the way. This, it transpires, includes fruit, fish, some rubber piping, a wooden door, big bags of nails and a few other undisclosed items balanced on the roof. Every new passenger is greeted with a very curtious "buenos tardes" and eventually the minibus drives out to cross the barren alto-plano, to Tiwanaku.
One couple agrees to the 10 boliviano fare only if they can pick up their shopping along the way. This, it transpires, includes fruit, fish, some rubber piping, a wooden door, big bags of nails and a few other undisclosed items balanced on the roof. Every new passenger is greeted with a very curtious "buenos tardes" and eventually the minibus drives out to cross the barren alto-plano, to Tiwanaku.
The ruins are all that are left of a civilisation that lasted nearly three millenia, before mysteriously vanishing around 1150AD. Two large stone figures stand surrounded by mud and rubble, as archeologists dig around them. Over a hundred faces are carved into the stones of an underground temple - but no-one really knows why.
The journey home was slighly less eventful - we even found time to do a little homework, inbetween marvelling at the sight of llamas and farms built from nothing more then clay bricks and mud.
The following evening, we went to the theatre to see a show celebrating 200 years since La Paz's rebellion against the Spanish. It started with around thirty people in traditional dress on stage, banging drums, playing pan pipes and dancing. We watched them perform the Morenada, the Diabolada and the Waca Waca.
Every new dance was greeted with huge applause by the mostly Bolivian crowd, and after two hours a rather emotional man in a suit took to the stage to deliver the first of three rousing speeches. We had to leave before the end of the third to try and find some food - feeling we'd learnt a lot, but didn't need more homework that day.
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