(chips ), onions (fried), tomatoes, sausage, chorizo, beef cuts, boiled eggs, all bathed in a thick gravy of very fat ... and this dish is definitely the worst enemy of dietitians in Bolivia ... and now also mine). It is also the kind of dish not really pleasant to regurgitate, but I'll spare you the details (in addition, for an hour, it gets better: I'm very m'enfiler a tray of white rice and a piece of bread. I expect a positive output of my digestive system. The answer at the end of post!) ... I'll start by talking about the crater Maragua, or Colin, and Michael Gaëlle (two French friends who also work for Ayni), Bruno and I went two weeks ago. We ended up at 9am on a Saturday morning in the outskirts of Sucre. According to the guide book, my bible travel, that's where the buses for Chaunaca, a small village located a 3 hour walk Maragua and its crater. In fact the bus is in a cargo truck that we climbed. We settled on the driver's cab, feet a few inches from the faces of peasant (nes) sitting below us, surrounded by bags of grain and other agricultural products.
Indeed, here the foods are still often sent back to the small villages of men (or women)! Bolivians are able to travel far too fast loaded like mules! (Small pause because rice does not go ... I'll swap the computer for the bowl and wait. Come what may)
25/06: Since my post yesterday, I swallowed a small piece of kouign aman (delicious cake prepared by Gaelle Breton), I vomited in the middle of the night, and a piece of bread and a banana for lunch, which is still stuck in my esophagus. So, I stay in bed today and take advantage to resume my story ...
short, I am continuing on the crater Maragua. A few minutes after our departure from Sucre
surprise: a cow joined us! It took several minutes to get it up and somehow stalling at the end of the trailer, but then, she has not flinched from the journey. From my side, as we saw a peinions maintain balance while sitting, I suffered from seeing his thin legs somehow keep his big body along the path (and stuff to finish SLAUGHTER, except unlike the poor animals for breeding, that it will have spent his life seems free!) After a good hour and a half truck on narrow, winding mountain roads, the driver has landed an intersection whence the path we wanted. Lively, we started.
In general, when we start hiking in Bolivia, it is hard to know precisely how long it will take work. "Premises" have little sense of time and miles. This weekend there, when people were asked how long the way we remained until Maragua, we met some quarter of an hour when a few yards away from other we said "one hour" ... the Bolivians do not have the same notion of time
than us: they know how many curves remain before reaching their village, or what time it must be based on the location of the sun in the sky, but for us Westerners accustomed to accurate, it is unclear! Finally a good walk we expected since we have reached a 4h Maragua (we thought having to 2:30 or less). We arrived about 16 hours of the afternoon, starved and eager to find a place to camp. The village, with streets deserted, his small shop (closed when we arrived), and its church dilapidated, resembled a ghost town. Located in the center of a huge crater in the obscure origins (meteorite? Volcanic eruption? Each said its version), its inhabitants live by their work in the fields and livestock, they go to town regularly exchange cons the basic necessities they lack. After another half hour to wander in the village in search of a good soul to give us information, we finally came across beautiful waterfalls within walking distance of the village and decided to camp there. It was time for the evening was already beginning to fall (yes, here is the southern hemisphere. Right now, it's dark at 18h)! We have arranged stones in circles and then went to pick up some skinny twigs that were lying around to heat the soup Gaëlle. After the preparations, we were dressed for a short but delightful evening by the fire, drink soup, Singani, tarot and playing. 22h but, having won the cold intensity, everyone has joined her down. 
The next day's program was far from certain: the people we had announced that a "working meeting "To be held in mid-day, a truck would leave Sucre in the afternoon. By cons, on the departure time, the versions differed: 12h, 14h, 16h, 18h ... impossible to know! As it was our only chance to join Chaunaca Motor Transport, we were determined to wait. At noon, so we installed 
on the church square. Several hours have passed. To 15h, Coline, mounted on a wall adorned with binoculars and, finally saw a vehicle parked on the central square. Hopeful we're eager to go to meet him. It was indeed the truck we were expecting, but lack of luck, his drivers were busy arranging a tire. We had to wait another hour before finally start: he was 17h.
What we do not doubt still is that not only the tire, but the entire state of the truck, was poor. After few kilometers, the first gearbox broke. Luckily, some "arrangements" (bumpers and alcohol for the driver) later, it was repaired and we could leave. A few dozen yards away, is a tire that exploded. Fortunately, no need to stop for so little: the tires are mounted on rims double, the second would do. In the truck, the atmosphere was somewhat tense whites evacuating stress has great reinforcement of jokes, Bolivians praying silently for that umpteenth trip Maragua-sugar is not their last. Fortunately (or "miraculeureusement"), we arrived safely in Sucre, about 20h, tired, hungry, but happy weekend!
Three days later, I had to go to Arica, Chile, and Juan Luis Cristian join two friends for a few days vacation with them. My passport is still in the hands of migration, Nelly has helped me write a letter ATTENTION immigration service from La Paz to get a "loan outstanding passport," the time to make a return trip to Chile. Bad luck: after four hours of waiting many officers face uncooperative, they told me that my passport had not arrived in La Paz and we could do nothing for me. Pissed myself after just enough against the officer who made me wait 4 hours for nothing (in this kind of place, better know to contain), I picked up my bags (and those of Bruno, stayed with me all morning to wait for my darling ... thank you) and came away in a rage. Finally, while Bruno was going to wait Olivier (a friend), Peru, I stayed to wait and Cristian Juan Luis La Paz. Cristian arrived the next evening and the next night Juan Luis.
week in La Paz went really well. I thought that already know the city, I kept discovering new places and new experiences. The hotel, previously a small pension AWAY from the bustle of the center, with flowers and animals, I good. Lowering the death road bike, then, proved an unforgettable experience. For thirty euros per day, an agency picks you up at your hotel at 8am and takes you from the long descent that led to Coroico (city Yungas already mentioned in the note "Cocoroicooo). There, after breakfast, served on the side of the road, everyone puts on his equipment (pants and jacket, raincoat, plus a helmet, and even protections for those who have paid a little more expensive (c that is to say, not me)). Then we go for a good 3 hours down, first on a road paved over twenty miles, then on a gravel path that winds a mountainside during a forty kilometers. The first meters are hanging on the handlebars and one very big eyes opened wide to keep from falling, and then you get used: one learns to absorb shocks and has taken its turns. Only girl in the group, I must say that I never got too badly. This road still traveled by trucks and buses a few years ago, recognizes hundreds of deaths (there were 150 per year on average, the equivalent of three bus loads ...). Today, apart from the tourists too daredevil who does not make it the danger, eventually leaving the road, accidents are rare. This is especially the motor vehicle has now borrowed another road, much better equipped and therefore much less dangerous! We all arrived safe and sound down while 
sweating in our orange vests, and thirsty by the sudden change in temperature that occurs during the descent (it happens in the tropics!). On arrival, after a final souvenir photo (which I can not help but put online so I find it funny ...), the agency has filed in a hotel with showers, swimming pool and buffet. Certainly, it is pleasant, though somewhat too "arranged" to my taste. All agencies lay their "death-roadeurs" in the same hotel for a Club Med and hand them a T-shirt stamped "Death Road Survivor: not my style ... In any case, despite this unfortunate passage required by a agency, believe me, go down the death road bike is really worth! I will not hesitate one second to go back in the saddle!
The next day my two friends and myself had decided to go to Sorata, a small village two and a half hours from La Paz leadership of Peru. At noon, once all the paperwork completed, Cristian was finally able to get behind the wheel of the (foul) gold jeep that had been rented for the occasion (there was more of it available ...). We then took the highway to El Alto, virtually forced to move out of La Paz. On the road, what a surprise to see no sign indicating no speed limit, and even more surprisingly, almost no other vehicle. But it was not until arriving at the exit of El Alto that we learned the reason for the temporary absence (vehicle course, no indication) : The bloqueo! Arrived at the toll, no way to go. Cars and trucks were turned back one after the other. A police officer explained the reason for the general strike: the fare has increased, the inhabitants of El Alto had decided to show their displeasure by blocking access to the city all day. We were told it would last until about 18h (hour or night falls). We turned around, sounded a bit by the news, then, determined not to let ourselves be discouraged so quickly, we began to walk the streets of La Paz in search of another crossing. Unfortunately, all accesses were blocked. To 16h, after several attempts, we finally managed to get into El Alto by a circuitous route. Very bad idea since we did not know is that the blockade had moved the toll Inside the town. In the streets of El Alto, a few cars had turned desperately seeking a way out, but nothing was done: the streets were blocked by stones, or inflamed rims Bolivien (nes) than determined. Personally, I do not was leading off: me, with my head gringa (pejorative term to Americans start but has expanded the set of foreign origin), driving a jeep gold (yes, I was driving!), lost in El Alto blocked ... it was more reassuring. You should know that El Alto is a bit the champion of anti-imperialism in Bolivia. USAID, U.S. Agency for development, it is made expelled last year, and around the town you can read slogans pro-Evo Morales (and against the incursion of foreign firms in the Bolivian economy) . Finally, around 17:30, the night fell, we decided to go down La Paz ... and make the car. Given the dangerous roads of Bolivia, Sorata from for so late would have been madness!
Petit souvenir photo (taken by the guy from the agency) before rendering the jeep ...
The next day, after giving the car to the agency (which fortunately we did not pay one day), we are comforted by going to La Valle de la Luna. This valley, located about an hour in a microwave (the name given to public transit here: trucks of all sizes, age and nationality, but now many come China ...) from the center of La Paz is aptly named: it really looks like a lunar landscape. Erosion has created ad'étranges stony forms between them, by paying an entrance fee to the site, it is possible to walk. It reminded me a lot of Valle de la Muerte in San Pedro de Atacama in Chile: hyper arid, hyper-exotic and hyper ... beautiful!
Tuesday evening, after my goodbyes to-Cristian and Juan Luis, who set out again in Chile, I went to settle at Daniel or should be back three days later Charlotte (Part climb Machu Picchu with the three Friends Bretons who left a few weeks ago Sucre), the other Charlotte accompanied William, her boyfriend, who was visiting for a few weeks, Colin, Olga, and Bruno and his pal Oliver. I took three days of quiet work for my workshops and attend a lecture on the progress of the change process in Bolivia (state reform, constitutional reform, nationalization of hydrocarbons, adaptation of multiculturalism in practice ...).
The event was organized by the French Alliance in partnership with the Museum of Ethnography and Folklore of La Paz. As a result, several French researchers, some of which served me to write my paper on Bolivia two years ago, were invited! It was a pleasure to set foot in the world of research and policy, but I still have no regrets for having forsaken. To each his own. For now I need concrete, it's like that!
Why all these people joined me it was La Paz? Go to attend the Sunday, June 21 morning, "wilkakuti" (Aymara New Year) on the ruins of Tiwanaku, an ancient pre-Hispanic, and even pre-Inca located in the vicinity Lake Titicaca. Indeed, for the Indians of the Altiplano, the winter solstice is consistent with the beginning of a new agricultural year. On this occasion, they usually gather in front of the famous Puerta del Sol to receive the first rays of the sun (and capture the astral energy!) This year, the Aymara entered the year 5517 on their calendar!
We left La Paz on Saturday afternoon, was 12 in a rented minivan for the weekend. Along the way, the police has distributed masks designed to avoid a possible contagion 
swine flu, we all strung together, laughing, to remove a few meters away. On our arrival at Tiwanaku, it is first of tens of meters of displays of hats, scarves, socks, gloves and other warm clothing for sale that we have received. At the winter solstice, is well known, the problem is the cold! At night the temperature drops below - 6 degrees (that's the temperature recorded in the morning at sunrise, when it was slowly starting to warm). So, hold on to the Bolivians bundle up as warmly as possible, then dance and drink all night. For my part, after a few tee Con te (tea with cinnamon Singani, delicious) and dance steps on the central square, I returned to the truck a few hours sleep. At 6am, everyone stand up! 
Duvets on the back, we went towards the ruins. The low, hands in front of the dawn, hundreds of Bolivians were to greet the sun. The crowd, indigenous leaders were carrying out rituals: llama sacrifices, incantations ... even if we did not see much, the emotion was there!
Before making the minibus, we went to eat some trout on the banks Lake Titicaca (the trout is almost the only fish consumed in Bolivia. It is a freshwater fish, of course ...). We saw a small part of the Lake but I intend to go back ...!
After ten days of vacation, it was time to return to Sucre. No way to miss my longer workshops! In addition, in recent days we have a project: to organize mid-July a "feria alimenticia y juegos. What's that? Heuuu ... it's long to explain, so it will be for a future post!
Give me some news!
Besos a todos, cuidense
Marion
Eva the cherimoya, my fruit in paper mache
I'm gonna put those children online
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