First Impressions (por Thomas Moorman)

I’m not a city person. I like what we consider the wilderness. I prefer the living ocean. I crave the company of nature’s daily commotion, what we consider stillness, a place to be “alone”. Cities are not these places. They are, in my experience, heaping, messy mounds of human activity. But they are also infinitely fascinating. La Paz is no exception to my preferences – please place me on a beach with baby sea turtles – yet, I’ve come to appreciate this city much more quickly than I have others. Why is that?

Rhetorical question. I’ve only been here a week. I’m still figuring that one out.

We went on a walk the other day through central La Paz. We walked the main street, El Prado, and finished in the old town La Paz, tourist-yet-not artisan market. The theme of this day was “Learning to See” or something similar. Don’t just look – see. Don’t assume. Be curious. Look deeper. See. One of the things that interested me most on this look-and-see, that caught my eye, was the presence of the non-Bolivians and what they were doing, particularly the street performers. They stopped traffic, performing in front of red lights and then asking for coin. I saw one man balancing on a unicycle, jugging plastic bowling pins. Earlier, I saw a couple juggling devil sticks whose ends they’d lit on fire. Later than day, on the way home, a young man (more well-kempt than I) beat a basic rhythm on toy bongos strapped to his waist and finished with a bow. Next came a girl waving pink flags without any particular plan. How do these people imagine themselves? What is their story? What do they think is their story? I wonder if we would get along. Is it fair to assume them privileged foreigners enacting their own “adventure tourism”? Probably not, but I don’t see them sleeping on the street, nor do they seem hungry. Who are they?

 It is this sort of thought that unveils La Paz, uncovers its cogs and complicated chemistry. Street vendors outside of commercial business. We’re learning to see.