One of the joys of traveling in Southeast Asia are the night markets. I couldn’t have been happier – meaning while in the Beni – than when I spotted Yucumo’s night market. It was almost an exact replica of such institutions in Asia. A bit…Read More

One of the joys of traveling in Southeast Asia are the night markets. I couldn’t have been happier – meaning while in the Beni – than when I spotted Yucumo’s night market. It was almost an exact replica of such institutions in Asia. A bit too small, but considering the distance to the original item, it was perfect.

A few open stalls were arranged in a single row along the road to Rurrenanbaque, just in front of the bus company branch. Simple roofs provided protection from the rain. Customers sat in benches; the cooks prepared the food next to them in marvelously organized little kitchens. To make things merrier, a row of grocery shops was behind them, allowing the traveler to stock up with goods for the next leg of the trip. Probably as close to paradise as a traveler can get while still on Earth.

Yet, this was Bolivia, not Asia. In Bolivia, never sit at the first place you fancy. Look at the people enjoying the meal. Avoid groups of friends and people inviting you to sit with them before having had a conversation with them. Honest Bolivians are quiet and shy; they won’t speak with a foreigner unless properly address (avoid little jokes, always support Bolivia). Eventually I chose what looked as the best shop and studied the menu; I mean I took a long look at the grill in front of me.

All the stalls offered the same food, variations on barbecued meat. There were three main dishes. The first was "panza rebosada," a dish prepared out of cow’s stomachs (bottom right item in the attached picture). I’ll leave the task of reviewing it to some other traveler; recently I have publicly renounced my quest to review the entire Bolivian cuisine due to the nature of some of its dishes. The second dish offered was rice sausages (top item in the picture). The third was ribs. In the San Ignacio de Moxos entry, I comment on the varied used of the word "asado" in South America. In Argentina, it refers to barbecued ribs, while in Bolivia to stewed sheets of meat. Ribs here are called using the correct Spanish word – namely "costillas." In both cases they are cut across the bones, unlike in much of the rest of the world. An innocent enough dish, I ordered a portion despite my being almost a vegetarian. Some cuts of chicken were also in display.

One of the advantages in night markets is that addressing the cook is easy. I found out she was planning to serve the ribs with rice, baked potatoes and fried plantains. "Please, without rice," I asked to her surprise. Bolivian rice is more often than not a sad affair. Soon the barbecued meat was in front of served with spicy llajua sauce and peanuts sauce as well. Native of Bolivian lowlands, peanuts are used in a variety of ways to create extraordinary dishes. Their sauce and soup are by far the most common ones. Peanuts sauce and barbecued meat blend perfectly.

Everything was perfect, and while looking at the picture surrounding me while taking care not to analyze the sounds, I could imagine myself – an imaginary trip during a real journey - in a similar but better place.
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Despite all the Global Village talk, internet, Google Earth, IgoUgo and a myriad of new information tools, maps and information on remote routes remain sketchy; especially so information capable of putting all the relevant, but tiny, data bits available within a logical and workable format.…Read More

Despite all the Global Village talk, internet, Google Earth, IgoUgo and a myriad of new information tools, maps and information on remote routes remain sketchy; especially so information capable of putting all the relevant, but tiny, data bits available within a logical and workable format. A related problem is that denizens – even travel agents – of these areas seldom can perform these tasks because they lack a traveler’s perspective. They’ll repeat what the local tourism ministry says but they’ll get stuck with simple questions. "But, how do I travel from Trinidad to Cobija?" Embarrassed silence. Big smile. "I can offer you a flight to Rio! Cheap! Cheap! Cheap! Hey, why are you leaving? Come back! Rio! Rio!"

I left for this trip with no substantial information on the zone. Local friends had told me that San Borja was the travel hub of the Beni; usually travel hubs can provide all the relevant information, so I assumed that would be enough. Yet, a quick look at a map of the Beni made that statement look strange. Two main roads cross the Beni and they meet at Yucumo, fifty kilometers west of San Borja. In my way back from Trinidad I was in troubles since there wasn’t any direct transport from Trinidad to La Paz. Once in San Borja, I was told to wait 24 hours for the next bus. Instead, I found a lift to Yucumo. An hour later, the bustling village offered me almost instantaneous transport by bus and taxi to La Paz. Traveler’s instincts proved worthier than denizens’ ancestral wisdom.

Yucumo was incredible. On the meeting point between a hilly rainforest and a vast savanna, it is also the informal lower end of the Death Road. It also sits on a major junction of Bolivia’s roads network. It has all it takes to become a destination for itself; yet, this humble town is just a commuting point for travelers in northern Bolivia. All of them cross it – except for the flying ones – but few remember its name afterwards. In other words: a rare and valuable jewel. It allows experiencing the local culture and way of life – still largely unspoiled – while enjoying accessibility to transport and acceptable accommodations. What else can a traveler ask for? Wi-Fi? They don’t have. International airport? They don’t have. A 5–star hotel? They don’t have. This is the lower gate to the Death Road – a name earned with the almost constant flow of human blood – and not a high end touristy resort. It may not be the most comfortable spot in the world, but – hey – that’s the stuff travels are made of.

People were friendly. On my second stop there I had arrived tired and hungry – I didn’t dare eating again in San Borja – and people were happy to provide advice, even while buying nothing from them. An oddity in Bolivia. After getting a bus ticket for the night bus from Rurrenabaque to La Paz, I got a good meal at the market and a few hours in a pastoral hotel.

The first of these events was important. In contrast to the events in San Borja, the local branch of the bus company – Flota Yungueña – was aware of the timetable. Later on that night, I returned to their office on time for the bus, but the bus didn’t appear. They called the Rurrenabaque branch and confirmed the bus had left. Nothing else could be done, since in this wild part of the world cellular networks are limited in their range. Yet, I was allowed waiting at the office despite the late hour. Eventually the bus arrived with a two hours delay (it locked me on the Death Road next morning, keep reading), but Yucumo had proved again being a travel hub worth of its title.

As in much of Bolivia, wild dogs were of concern, fighting and chasing each other even within the nigh market tables. If one of them gets menacing the solution is picking up a stone from the ground; they recognize the movement and run into the nearest police station.

By now, a picture of this uncomfortable trip is forming. A key survival point is stocking on everything you may need along the way beforehand, and this includes food and drinks. Yucumo excelled on this, offering a friendly row of grocery shops next to the night market. Travel hubs definitely are one of the traveler’s best friends.
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I had been told San Borja was the Beni’s travel hub. The last tend to be good friends of travelers, thus I have a weakness for them. Since I expect returning to them in future adventures, I pay special attention to details, especially those related…Read More

I had been told San Borja was the Beni’s travel hub. The last tend to be good friends of travelers, thus I have a weakness for them. Since I expect returning to them in future adventures, I pay special attention to details, especially those related to travel. The first relevant sight of San Borja was encouraging. Its bus terminal was unexpectedly large for a tiny village in an Amazonian backyard. The large sign identifying the terminal (the place were I found out this was San Borja; Bolivian roads seldom have signs or milestones and the town apparently preferred to ignore its own name) belonged to a local transport union. Most of the Bolivian society – including residential neighborhoods – is organized in unions. This meant all booths and shops in the place were related. Sometimes that’s good – it avoids exploitation of the poor – but it also facilitates violent schemes targeting foreigners. Bolivian bus terminals (though not this one!) and hotels are full of police warnings on these. Bolivian newspapers are full of violent stories resulting of these. Yet, unions decide everything – tariffs, operation hours, allowed merchandise, even the ubiquitous carnivals and marches are organized by them – and members obey due to fear of losing their membership.

But, I’m rushing ahead. The first sight of two out of the three towns reviewed in this journal was misleading. Yucumo – the main junction and travel hub of Beni – seemed irrelevant. San Borja – allegedly a travel hub - almost looked like one but turned out being little else than a food stop. In my first pass through the town, the odd points were too subtle to materialize into a certainty in time. The gas station was far from the terminal. So what? The alleged travel hub was far from the only major junction in the whole Beni. So what? Both could be explained. You don’t expect efficiency in places like Beni or Bolivia. Yet, both were bothering. Principles of economy do not change. Everything signaled this terminus was not important; its size seemed as a shiny cover on something else.
The village wasn’t organized as a travel hub. Restaurants were few and bad advertised. There were no hotels in the immediate surroundings of the terminus; this was a very worrying sign. Yet, the area was charming. Reddish earth and the greenest trees could be seen reaching the horizon. A silence unusual in Bolivia completed the peaceful scene. "The perfect set up for a horror film," I thought, still innocent.

Meanwhile, it was time to learn how San Borja could help me in future trips. The ticket selling booths were void of travel information. All served the main La Paz – Trinidad line and nearby settlements. When asking for trips to the north of the department, I got evasive answers. Timetables were unclear, while even remote travel hubs are usually fastidious about their lifelines.

After a few minutes like these, I had an odd feeling: I was looking at an oversized, family owned coffee shop, despite what the large signed posted everywhere stated. Not only due to the police warnings I’m worried about personal safety, recently I had a very bitter experience. Yet, it was breakfast time and after a long trip through the Death Road in which a long delay during the night had kept everybody awake, I was hungry. There was a row of stalls in front of the terminal, but I preferred one placed on the building’s roof because I wanted to see the landscape. Flat places are troublesome in this aspect. As I began climbing the stairs, someone placed a box on the stairs below me, innocently blocking them to other passengers.

I was alone on the roof, with a cook that was smiling widely –too widely – at me. A hand written menu announced a few options. I asked for a "tortita de carne" ("little cake of meat" in Spanish) which turned out being a meat patty. I asked for one, but two were served. Yet, they were picked from a large pile of them, tasted reasonably good and fresh and – most important of all – I was really hungry. Bolivian food is so salty that it makes you thirsty and these patties had been apparently cooked on the Uyuni Salt Flats. A coffee was offered and I accepted immediately. Then, a kid appeared from nowhere and stood between my table and the tiny kitchen, so that I couldn’t see how it was being prepared.
Seconds later, the cup was in front of me. it wasn’t right. It had the diluted brown color of "sultana" – a drink made of coffee bean husks. Yet, Bolivians tend to make a mess of orders. I took a careful sip. It wasn’t coffee; it wasn’t sultana. It had a thick and strange texture and an odd taste. Danger! I threw a banknote on the table, didn’t wait for change and run into the nearby bus. The headache lasted all the way to Trinidad.

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At the center of South America, what is now Bolivia was a central player in the complex history of this continent. The Inca Empire was born here by the migration of people from the Altiplano to Cusco. Then, the Spaniards transformed Potosi into the richest…Read More

At the center of South America, what is now Bolivia was a central player in the complex history of this continent. The Inca Empire was born here by the migration of people from the Altiplano to Cusco. Then, the Spaniards transformed Potosi into the richest and largest city in the Americas. Its silver shipping routes shaped the imperial administration. Alto Peru (High Peru in Spanish) was moved from the jurisdiction of the Peru Viceroyalty to the Plate River one and then became Bolivia in the early 19th century. Roughly twice its actual size, it was divided in five departments. Giant in size, tiny in population. During the next few decades it lost much of its territory and the five departments were divided into the modern nine. Beni was created by splitting Santa Cruz in 1842 and occupies an area known as "Llanos de Moxos" – the Moxo Plains – named after the native culture of the place.

Beni is almost empty; in its roughly 214 thousand square kilometers live just over 400 thousand people, a shocking density of below 2 persons per square kilometer. A third of them live in its capital city: Trinidad, so that its countryside is truly desolated. In this situation, understanding its layout is important since the distances among neighbor settlements are large and the logistics involved are complicated. In the whole department – larger than many countries – there are just two main routes; both of them are largely unpaved and subject to seasonal floods. One runs from south to north, arriving from La Paz through the Death Road and reaching the Guayarmerin border crossing to Brazil. The second runs from west to east, arriving from La Paz, crossing the departmental capital and then continuing to Santa Cruz. The first runs roughly parallel to the Beni River, while the second crosses the Mamore River just before Trinidad. The roads meet at Yucumo on the southwest and next to the Death Road exit point, while the two rivers meet at the border with Brazil, where they form the Madeira River, a major tributary of the Amazon. A popular misunderstanding – presented in the previous entry by the denizen requesting a picture – is the topic of cattle; often it is presented as a traditional occupation of the area. Yet, there was no cattle before the Spaniards arrived, the savanna was an agricultural zone displaying an elaborate fluvial control system. Once the last was destroyed, wild cattle took over the place and shaped modern Beni when settlers arrived from Santa Cruz and created large "ranchos."

Few travelers reach this remote area of Bolivia. Those who venture do that due to two major attractions. San Ignacio de Moxos attracts many visitors for its day, every 30 and 31 of July. It offers the best possible contact with the Moxo culture, the native inhabitants of the area. Before the Spaniards arrival, their fluvial engineering skills surpassed modern ones, as described in the dedicate entry in my next journal. The other main attraction is visited at all times. Rurrenabaque – north of Yucumo – is a meeting point between the rainforest and the savanna; it is located on the eastern shore of the Beni River, on the border with the La Paz Department. Savannas are called here "pampa," a Quechua word meaning "open space." It appears also as a "bamba" suffix in many names of places, like "Apolobamba," and it may refer to open spaces in high valleys and the Altiplano as well. Truth is Rurrenabaque became popular with tourists only twenty years ago after a book related to it was published. Nowadays it’s so touristy that is better avoided. Most local travel agencies can help organizing visits to spots of similar interest. Riberalta – in the far north of the department – is becoming an attractive alternative. Beni has more to offer. Some of the Moxos hydraulic works can be visited. Four of them (Lomas Somopae is the main one, just 30 kilometers from Trinidad) are just east of Trinidad. Unluckily, these fluvial engineering wonders do not function anymore.

All these are more than enough to justify a visit, and a few journals.

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