Bolivia: By Bus

The majority of roads are dirt and the buses which ride upon them shake, rattle and frequently roll. One week before arriving in Bolivia a bus rolled, taking with it forty-something lives. On Wednesday the 5th another rolled, claiming only 28 lives. Accidents like these are a weekly occurrence and after spending about 30 hours on them so far, the rate of one accident per week seems miraculous.

But what makes travel in Bolivia nearly impossible is the fact that most buses lack bathrooms. When a 300km trip takes 12-hours and makes one stop max staying hydrated becomes a second priority to not "having to go." On one of my 12-hour rides the only thing that saved me was that one of the buses in front of us became stuck in a creek (yes, busses have to cross creeks-- bridges are only a component of paved roads, which are missing from this terrain). The two-hour wait allowed me--and others- time to relieve ourselves amidst donkeys, frogs, snakes and guitar-playing Argentines.

Our unplanned stop provided opportunity for an enterprising Bolivian (the only one I've come accross) to open his store and sell tins of tuna and corned beef, dusty, room-temperature fizzy drinks of questionable provenance and long-expired crackers. I was starving and purchased the latter two; they quieted my insides and allowed me to fully focus on the terrible ride on the edge of the Andes.

Busses always leave late and one needs to add at least two hours to the expected arrival time to not be disappointed. Hanging electrical harnesses are not to be feared; climate control is still on the drawing board; broken seats (asientos flotantes; lit: floating seats) are not uncommon; the back of the bus is to be avoided because bounces are amplified nine-fold; crying children are to be ignored; and please allow the locals to throw their trash out the window without giving them a belittling Western "Awww don't trash the planet, maaaan" look.  And if the bus gets stuck, PUSH!!! SL