The Hills are Alive

My first impression of Sucre is music and flowers!

I arrived on a Sunday afternoon. In the evening I went to a bar that offered a live pan pipe group playing what they said were arrangements of indigenous melodies. There were 4 performers, each playing at different times at least two instruments. There were pan pipes, a drum, a guitar, the equivalent of recorders (tarcas), and a small guitar like a ukulele. They also sang, in Spanish, not Quechua. I enjoyed it very much. The pan pipe makes a quiet breathing sound, that adds a melancholic tone whatever is being played.

On the way back to my hotel, I walked through the main square where there was a live concert of contemporary music going on. It was great to see every generation represented among the listeners. Little kids, university students, and old folks were all grooving to the rock sounds.

Today, it´s Monday at about noon and I discoverd my hotel has a rooftop terrace above the open courtyard. I´m sitting up here enjoying the marvelous sunshine. Probably because of the altitude (we´re at 9,000 feet), the sun feels very hot. The air is absolutely crystal clear and I can see for what seems like forever. Unfortunately, the surrounding mountains are treeless, no doubt a consequence of the altitude. However, there are a great number of trees and other vegetation in the city.

As I was sitting here eating my orange and enjoying, I could hear a marching band, oom-pahing its way around the streets. I couldn´t see it, but from my roof top perch, I could tell exactly what streets therywere walking on. This is Monday. I have no idea what the occasion is. After writing this, I have since learned that today (Monday?!) is Father´s Day in Bolivia, and many proud fathers were marching around the streets behind the oom-pah band, while kids lit off fireworks. that´s cool!

The parks and squares have, of course, walkways across them, and, in addition, BEAUTIFULLY manicured parcels of grass and flowers. The flowers are planted in beautiful designs. I saw women working on their little patch, grooming it carefully. I have since learned that, as part of a workfare program, unemployed women (mostly) maintain the parks. The result is that the parks are strikingly beautiful.

This evening, I had the good fortune to run into Mario, the lawyer from Santa Cruz. I was walking along with my head in the clouds when my way was blocked by this man in a suit and tie. I tried to move around him and he blocked me. Only then did I notice it was Mario with a big grin on his face. He was with another lawyer, Carlos. We went out for beer and had a gredat time talking about the terrible bus ride and life as a D.A.. They are both attending a 2 month continuing education class for prosecutors. It{ s surprising how similar the laws of Bolivia and California are.

They are from Santa Cruz and of course I am from California. Interestingly, we all had the same impression of Sucre. We all like the town because of its smallness, the friendliness of the people, and the interesting night life and music available. They were full of suggestions of things I must see while in Sucre. I could tell they were envious of my free time. They still had to study for the following day.

We parted with shared e-mail addresses and hopes of some future contact. However, the distinct bummer about foreign travel is that you meet people, sometimes in very close quarters, get involved in lengthy conversations, only to part knowing you´ll most likely never meet them again. ("Two roads diverged in a wood..."). It´s great to enjoy the moment, to step into the moccasins of some one else, even if only for a short time, and to get a glimpse into a foreign culture and way of life.