At 6am our flight boarded to La Paz. We arrived in La Paz, the highest city in the world at 10am. Exhausted and overcome with symptoms of altitude sickness: headaches, shortness of breath, nausea and aching muscles we tried unsuccessfully all day to sleep. However, we were comforted by the knowledge that we would fly out of La Paz onto Cochabamba at 7pm. However, when we lined up to check in our bags we were informed that our flight would be delayed until 915pm.
Tired and irrational we sought solace in the miracle altitude sickness remedy- hot chocolate.
Before we boarded we had to contact the organisation Hospitals of Hope and inform them that we would be arriving late. After a number of wrong numbers we finally reached a HOH only to discover no one spoke english. I struggled through telling them who we were, where we were but didnt have the skills to explain our late departure...with no more i could say i thanked her and hung up lol argh! With our flight close to boarding we were getting desperate. None of the airport staff would help us. At the end of our rope we ran around the airport hurriedly searching for someone who spoke english. "Habla ingliss? Habla ingliss?" we frantically shouted at milling travellers. It would have made for a funny sight. Disheveled as we were and as frazzled as we felt Im sure they would have thought "Haha those gringas are loco (crazy)!"
Finally a man responded to our plead in english and was happy to call HOH and translate for us. Thank God!
At 915pm we stood at our gate eager to board. Then we waited and waited and waited. The other passengers grew restless and began chatting in annoyed tones to eachother. When it became apparent we werent going anywhere fast Tiff and I laid down on the floor and watched the theatrics unfold.
A passenger particularly irritated turned on the overhead announcer system at the gate and made an announcement which apparently said something about "the unreliability of the airline" for all the airport to hear. One man fueled by more than a few drinks became quite angry and started animatedly gesturing and shouting threats at staff. Then the entire crowd joined in voicing their tired frustrations. Tiff and I sat quietly afraid of being noticed and pulled into the mess that unfolded before us.
After more than an hour we were confronted by four staff members who made an announcement. With this the crowd of passengers burst to life, their shouts raising a few decibals and pushing and shoving toward the frighted staff. Some threw down their luggage, many making angry gestures, some appearing ready to cry. Tiff and I stood silently watching the unveiling commotion scared to ask what the meaning of debate could be. One lady said something about her not seeing her children...this sounded serious...we had to ask, "Habla Ingliss?" ("Do you speak Ingliss?"). A kind lady responded and explained that we would not be allowed to board the plane until we apologised for the man who made threats. Twelve hours after arriving in La Paz sick and sleepless we finally boarded and were on our way to Cochabamba.
An aerial view of La Paz at night is to this day the most spectacular sight I have seen. Despite the day we had it was worth it to see the city lights sprawled across the mountain ranges, plunging into the ravines. It is an awesome sight to see and is a reminder of our magnificient creator. This picture no where near does the sight justice.
Although beautiful from the sky La Paz's people endure some of the harshest natural conditions- freezing winds, thin air depleted of precious oxygen. It is the poorest that live at the highest points; the view no prize in these conditions. While the greedy rich claim the warm ravines.
At 1130pm we arrived at Cochabamba airport to discover our lift unable to endure the long wait had left. We got into a taxi communicating with our very poor english, directions to Hospitals of Hope. Our driver unsure of where HOH even was pulled over multiple times to ask fellow taxi drivers for directions. After a stop at a gas station, and a small store to use the phone to call for our house parent for directions in spanish he seemed confident that he knew where he was going. Throughout this tirp I prayed fervently lol. As he drove deeper and deeper into an industrial looking district with fewer people around I prayed even more fervently. As he turned off the highway into a dark street I prayed even more fervently.
Our first sight of Bolivia at night was not comforting either. Many people were gathered out on the streets. The streets were dirty lined with rubbish and wandering dogs. Buildings emerged from rubble looming over the road, ghost-like shells of brick and iron. My first sight of this immense poverty was very unsettling and uncomfortable for such a content comfy westerner.
When the driver turned onto a cobbled dirt road Tiff and I were ready to abandon taxi and take flight on foot. Then like music to my ears the driver said "Esta cerca!" (It's near!"). We arrived to a welcoming party waiting out on the cold dark street for us. After some warm greetings and a quick exchange of our journey we stumbled into bed 39hrs after last sleeping.
To write about this journey even now is difficult. I am filled with anxiety and stress lol. Both Tiffany and I have mild Post-Traumatic Stress after this traumatic day and are doing our best to forget its events. I now understand why on the travel forms we filled out for our application to HOH they emphasised the importance of flexibility when travelling. When in the face of delayed flights and frightening taxi rides you have to be able to relax and laugh and trust God will get you there safely!
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