Ayata

On each one of the compass directions, Ayata offers a different landscape to explore and enjoy. However, the steep terrain and the lack of fresh water sources quite limit the extent of the walks, unless water purification pills and climbing tools are taken.

From Ayata, the views are vertical-oriented rather than horizontal, with the Socosani Mountain providing upward views of its ragged tops and tiny glacier. Downwards, the broken slopes provide views of many cultivated terraces crisscrossed with walking paths in all directions. Across the invisible Sorata River a mighty wall ending at the Illampu summit, rises almost vertically. The last is one of the highest mountains in the Americas.

Walking in the area is safe; however, there are no sources of safe water and there are no guesthouses or hotels in any of the settlements surrounding Ayata; thus any walk must be planned with care so that Ayata would be reached back before sunset.

The Walks

Up the Socosani

On the slopes of the Socosani Mountain, Ayata is roughly twelve hundred meters below its summit. Climbing the mountain is possible without equipment, though the ice may impose indirect paths. Hamlets of llama herders abound in the area – including in the ice covered areas - and provide unforgettable sights. Approaching the llamas is tempting, they seem good natured and feature an eternal foolish smile on their faces; yet, if they feel threatened, they spit whatever they have in their mouth (usually a mix of saliva and grass) at the perceived threat eyes.

The most scenic option for a walk on the Socosani is climbing westwards from Ayata. The mammoth itself is picturesque, with a peculiar rugged summit reminding of ancient military forts and a tiny glacier.

Soon after leaving Ayata, the brown plateau's earth changes into a deep black and close to the summit, ice and snow appear. Beyond serving as a natural cool-down, the mountain is high enough to offer clear views of the slopes leading down to the Sorata River - more than three kilometers downwards - and of the imposing mountains across the river.

After the morning fog vanishes, the area of Sorata - a main tourism location in northern La Paz - and the snow-white Illampu Mountain are clearly visible.

Southwards

To the south, the town is delimited by a steep hill, which is part of the Socosani Mountain slopes. Many paths climb the hill from Ayata and lead to the twin town of Chuma on its other side.

Since Chuma is the Muñecas Province capital, it is slightly more alive than Ayata and provides the only quasi-urban environment in the area. The walk takes a couple of hours at a slow pace.

Crossing Linguistic Borders

To the northeast, Ayata ends in a steep slope leading to a narrow stream, which leads to the Sorata River far below. Walking parallel to it, the village of Mollo is roughly halfway between Ayata and the Sorata River, deep below and out of sight.

The human landscape there is different, since Mollo is a Quechua speaking community, while Ayata is mainly Aymara. The Mollo area (Mollo and the villages below it) is considered to be linguistically and culturally "closed," meaning that most of its inhabitants are monolingual in Quechua.

A more vigorous exercise would be crossing the stream next to Ayata and climbing to one of the villages on the northern side, some of them are populated by miners from the now inactive tin mines in the area. Abandoned mine gates are a popular sight all over the Andean regions of Bolivia. This would be a four or five hours walk; notice that there are no facilities of any kinds at the hamlets.

Himalayan Ayata

Between a mighty rock and a hard place, Ayata's Himalayan views and incomparable human landscape has something special for every visitor. The lack of infrastructure transforms a trip into the area into a rough one, but the views more than compensate for that. Moreover, the lack of a significant tourism means the area is still unspoiled, providing an experience of a timeless nature.

The Human Landscape

Ayata is located in the Province of Muñecas, the poorest province of La Paz and one of the poorest in Bolivia.

People survive here on simple agriculture – mainly corn - with no help of modern machines or fertilizers. When the fields do not require work, most men travel to La Paz, where they do work as porters, taking the merchandise to and from the congested markets on their backs.

The province was named after a person from the colonial era; however, "muñecas" in Spanish means "dolls," hence in an affectionate daily idiom, local women - famous for their colorful attires and wide hats - are called "muñequitas," i.e. "little dolls." Spanish is only the third language in the area, which is on the borderline between the Aymara and Quechua cultures; English is practically unheard of.

Across a hill from Ayata is the town of Chuma, the province capital which can be reached in a couple of hours by foot; there is no regular public transport connecting the twin towns, though long-distance buses may take passengers between them if they have room.

The Nature

In between the Socosani Mountain and the Sorata River, Ayata enjoys an Himalayan landscape. Located 305km northwest of La Paz, the area is almost untouched by modern civilization and its broken landscape assures that it would continue being so for the seeable future.

The Socosani Mountain reaches 5km height, Ayata is 3874 meters above the see level and the Sorata River is significantly below 2km above the sea level; that means that the slopes cover more than three vertical kilometers. Few places on earth offer such a vertical drop. This dramatic plummet creates plenty of opportunities for awesome views, fast white waters and a variety of climates within foot reach from the town.

From Ayata, the views are vertical-oriented rather than horizontal, with the Socosani Mountain providing upward views of its ragged tops and occasionally ice bodies. Downwards, the broken slopes provide views of many cultivated terraces crisscrossed with walking paths in all directions. Tiny adobe hamlets hang on the rocks, obviously avoiding cultivable spots. The Sorata River is so far below that it cannot be seen from Socosani or Ayata. The way down looks endless, and all of the sudden, after an inscrutable gap, mountains arise on the other side.

On the mountains raising across the Sorata River several settlements can be spotted - especially during the very dark nights of the zone. However, the town of Sorata, one of the regional capital cities of the La Paz Department, cannot be seen because it sits on a hidden valley. The mighty Illampu is the highest mountain seen from the town - it reaches roughly 6500m and is one of the highest peaks in the Americas - but it is usually blocked by the fog or the clouds. Even when in clear sight, the elevated surroundings in all directions steal a bit of its usual majesty.

Despite the area remoteness, it is heavily cultivated, meaning that no wildlife would probably be spotted. I contented myself with a few llamas, the only condors I have seen were in La Paz Zoo.

In the mornings, the sun heats the dew deposited overnight and creates a fog that dissipates before noon. The fog seems to slowly fill the lower valleys and creates very attractive views. Half hidden adobe houses, turn out being little more than abandoned ruins with no roofs and partially destroyed walls. A sizeable city hiding in the fog turns out being little more than a ghost town; a fog town would describe it better.

Highlights

Northern La Paz is set in a though environment, where the Andean Range ends and the Amazonian Basin begins; the result is a difficult territory to travel through, but one offering an awesome variety of views: high mountains and deep valleys, cultivated terraces and wild eagles; all of them in a very small area spanning various climate zones. Ayata is midway between the Socosani Mountain - a five kilometers height colossus - and the Sorata River - more than three kilometers below the Socosani summit. The many cultivated terraces assure plenty of comfortable paths in all directions; it is safe to walk outside.

The area offers delightful walks in the slopes surrounding the town, which include small agricultural and mining communities from Aymara and Quechua cultures, high peaks, white-water streams flowing to the Sorata River, and eagles watching over foreigner visitors. On the mountains raising across the Sorata River several settlements can be spotted - especially during the very dark nights of the zone. The main one is the town of Sorata, one of the main cities in the La Paz Department. Beyond it the Illampu Mountain - which at roughly 6500m is one of the highest in Bolivia - can be seen after the morning fog lifts off.

In the cultural angle, Ayata is also in a transition area, between Aymara and Quechua zones. Thus, Spanish is only the third language in the area, but it is understood enough for all the basic needs. The small town is built around a beautiful central plaza, but it is almost empty of inhabitants; most people live in the villages around due to the situation described in the "Ayata" entry in this journal. The town is located in the Province of Muñecas, the poorest province of La Paz and one of the poorest in Bolivia. People survive here on simple agriculture, with no help of modern machines, fertilizers or pesticides. When the fields do not require work, most men travel to La Paz, where they work as porters, taking the merchandise to and from the congested markets on their backs. The province was named after a person; however, "muñecas" in Spanish means "dolls," hence in an affectionate daily idiom, local women - famous for their colorful attires - are called "muñequitas," i.e. "little dolls."

Tips

There are no sources of safe water and there are no guesthouses or hotels in any of the settlements surrounding Ayata; thus any day walk must be planned with care. The steep terrain and the lack of fresh water sources quite limit the extent of the walks, unless water purification pills or tools are taken.

Despite the relatively short distance between La Paz and Ayata, the broken terrain and bad roads transform the trip into a daylong adventure. Good places to take a break are Huarina and Achacachi for a late breakfast and Willacalla - midway up to the Socosani Mountain summit - for lunch.

If traveling with a rented car through the Titicaca Lake route, it is worth remembering that the last gas station is at Escoma, just before turning east to the Socosani Mountain. It is recommended to fill up the gas tank and to carry on all the basic tools for car maintenance. If traveling through the eastern route, the same is right, with the last gas station at Sorata.

Beyond snacks - and even those in a very limited variety - there are no possibilities to buy food in Ayata; bringing all the needs, including water and cooking facilities, is imperative. It is not recommended to eat the local food - I was poisoned by a very small portion; if the locals invite the best would be to accept, but to prepare the meal out of the brought reserves.

Actually there are no hotels or guesthouses in Ayata. If arriving without an invitation, the best would be to bring camping equipment and to settle down in one of the many empty spots. Many houses are in ruins; they have no roofs and grass grows on their floors; beyond their walls some protection from the winds can be found.

Best Way to Get Around

It is possible to reach Ayata with the almost daily buses leaving from El Alto - La Paz twin city on the plateau. However, it is strongly recommended not to use these buses for several reasons (their age, their conditions, the quality of the roads and security are the main ones); the best option is to travel with a rented 4X4 truck and with a local driver.

To diversify the way, it is possible to use two ways to and from the area. The newer one goes parallel to the Titicaca Lake and then crosses the Socosani Mountain in an unforgettable mountain pass; this way is shorter and prettier, but the mountain pass is not well marked. The old way is very long and convoluted; it crosses Sorata and Chuma before reaching Ayata. The advantage of this way is that it allows visiting Sorata, a main tourists' destination in Northern La Paz.

Once in Ayata, the best way to go around is by foot; most of the communities around it are connected only through narrow paths that allow walking but nothing else. To the south, the town is delimited by a steep hill which is part of the mighty Socosani Mountain. Many paths climb the hill and lead to the twin town of Chuma. Since Chuma is the Muñecas Province capital, it is slightly more alive than Ayata and provides the only quasi-urban environment in the area. The walk takes a couple of hours at a slow pace.

To the northeast, Ayata ends in a steep slope leading to a narrow stream. Walking parallel to it, the village of Mollo is roughly halfway between Ayata and the deep Sorata River. A more vigorous walk across the stream and climbing to one of the villages on the northern side, would take four or five hours walk; there are no facilities of any kinds at the hamlets.

The most scenic option for a walk is to climb westwards from Ayata up the Socosani Mountain. The mammoth itself is picturesque, with a peculiar summit reminding of ancient military forts. The mountain is high enough to offer clear views of the slopes leading down to the Sorata River - more than three kilometers downwards - and of the imposing mountains across the river.

Between a mighty rock and a hard place, Ayata's Himalayan views and incomparable human landscape has something special for every visitor.

I had just landed in La Paz, Bolivia, from my other adopted country - Thailand - when a friend invited me to join a delegation from the Lutheran Church to Ayata.

"Where is Ayata," I asked.

"Next to Chuma," was the prompt answer.

Feeling doubly ignorant, I accepted the invitation. Next day I loaded a few blankets and a small backpack to a mighty truck and after picking up the last member of the expedition, we left the city in the direction of the Titicaca Lake. After leaving La Paz, the Andean Plateau has very few views to offer until the lake is reached, except for the Cordillera Real, which is the western part of the Andean Range. It includes such imposing mountains as the Illampu and the Condoriri, the last shaped as a condor spanning his wings. Covered with snow, they helped to pass the time until we reached the town of Huarina, next to the lake.

There, we stopped for an invigorating "café con leche" and to buy some last, perishable, supplies. Due to Ayata's conditions, we brought almost - and I would be sorry later for the almost - all our supplies. The weather was clear, the snow in the mountains was sparkling white, the ground was the usual naked brown of the plateau and the lake showed one of its glorious dark-blue moods; things couldn't get better. We left Huarina through the route advancing north along the lakeshore and soon we were covering unexplored (for me) regions in the Bolivian map. After crossing the town of Carabuco and taking a quick look at its famous colonial cathedral, we reached Escoma, the biggest town in the northern Bolivian side of the lake and said goodbye to the lake. From there, we began climbing the mountains to the east. The pavement disappeared and the population became scarce.

At Willacalla we stopped for lunch; the village was placed midway along an impressive brown slope that seemed to climb forever. The counted adobe houses were scattered around with significant distances between them; a colorful well supplied drinking water to the inhabitants. I was surprised to find the only dish they were serving was trout. "It's from the mountain rivers, not from the lake; it's safe," I was told. A whole, rosy trout cost $1.25 and was served with rice and chuño - a local, dehydrated, black potato.

As soon as we left, the way began following a deep cliff; at its other side a black, frightening mountain blocked the sight. We stopped to take a few pictures. "That's the Socosani Mountain, we will climb it; Ayata is on its other side," my host said.

I could see only a black mammoth sprinkled with snow on its mighty back. Being close to the equator, the snow meant that the mountain was next to five kilometers height. No roads were visible; but I trusted my friends and re-entered the truck.

Slowly, we made a semi-circle around the cliffs and reached the mountain; the ground turned black and we crossed a small village. "How do they live here?" I asked; herding llamas and alpacas was the obvious answer.

After the village, when we reached a point where the road split, the truck began climbing. "Are you sure?" I asked. "The other one is older and longer, we need to cross the mountain," was the fast answer to the too inquisitive foreigner
My hosts weren't very imaginative; if they said something - they meant it literally. And so, we climbed. The fine weather turned into a hailstones storm. The black earth was transformed into mud mixed with ice. At one side of the truck were cliffs, at the other side was a stonewall reaching the skies. Ice and snow, hailstones and mud, the truck conquered them all. Just below the top, we began surrounding the summit and at certain moment it was clear we had crossed to the other side of the mountain. There was no snow; the storm was over. After a while we began descending and the narrow road opened into a narrow valley with no visible bottom. Somewhere along the middle was a small village. "That's Ayata," I was told.

But I couldn't care less. Unknown to my hosts - none of them had been outside the southern subcontinent - the views took me half a world away to the Himalaya's southern slopes, which I knew from a long trek I took there in the past. Narrow green valleys with cultivated terraces, fierce white streams trying hard to erode everything in their way and the obvious insignificance of humans' presence in a landscape that was shouting at me: "We have only one Earth!"

The entrance to the town was strange. There were many houses in an arrangement that became denser as we approached the central plaza; adobe was the main construction material at the outskirts while bricks were the preferred choice by the center. Once at the plaza the place still felt strange, though I couldn't define why; there was too much new data to analyze.

I was expecting to arrive at a Lutheran Church - but I couldn't see one. "This is the district," my host repeated without bothering to explain the meaning of his mantra. The central plaza was beautiful and well-kept, lush little gardens surrounded a circular central structure; it was a place for young lovers. A big Catholic Church was at one of its sides, some buses (the line to La Paz leaves almost daily) parked around it, two shops were selling snack to the inexistent crowds and an old building with the logo of the Lutheran national organization completed the picture. Less than five persons occupied the plaza and I attributed that to the siesta time. Reality here was so far from any other experience I have had that I couldn't comprehend what I was looking at.
We entered the Lutheran building and some brothers began unloading the food we had brought. Beyond a flimsy façade, the building opened into an unkept garden. The sheep grazing the grass were a good metaphor for a church; but I was used to less tangible allegories.

"I'm going for a walk," I said and for the next hour I explored the small town. I didn't see any persons beyond the central plaza, and walking slowly I recognized that many of the buildings we saw from the truck were just ruins. It was a ghost town.

Back at the building I addressed a local man. The communication turned out to be difficult. He said that the town was at the border between Aymara and Quechua speaking people; Spanish was their third language. Most women didn't speak it, and men commanded it only up to a basic level.

"Where is the church?" I asked and he looked confused. After some more carefully stated questions, I began to understand the local situation. Only few people lived in town. Until some fifty years ago it was where the "patrones" lived. Patrones were the ruling class who took advantage of the indigenous people work living around town for free. In fact, it was a slavery system; the pleasant plaza was an example of quasi-modern slaves work. A deep reform in the country ruled out this injustice way of living and the patrones left, mainly they moved to the big cities. Nowadays, the town was a purely administrative center; people lived in the small villages scattered around - where the churches were - and arrived at town only to carry out their businesses.

Around us, the women began transforming the products we brought into a meal. When I offered help, they giggled and looked away; real men were not supposed to help in the kitchen. But I was a "Choco" (a dark-haired Gringo) and capable thus of making any imaginable nonsense. Instead, I arranged my things in one of the rooms of the feeble structure and returned later to the garden to see - with the last rays of sunlight - as a lamb was being added to the food we brought. Soon after dinner I was sick and unable to be part of the planned activities in the next day and half.

In their place, I had the opportunity to take slow, delightful walks in the slopes surrounding the town and enjoy the awesome views of my own private Himalayas.