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Bolivian MisAdventures is on hold for a week because I'm traveling in Chile with my boyfriend. That said, the most interesting story that Chile has produced so far is the following debate:

The saying, "If it's not Scottish, it's crap." Does anyone know the origin? My boyfriend says it was Mike Meyers on "Saturday Night Live." I say it's Groundskeeper Willie on the "Simpsons."

Anyone know the truth? Please help us. It will make lying on the beach in Chilean summer much more relaxing if we can settle this debate.

-Elissa

Today I saw a kid pull down his pants and take a dump. On the sidewalk.

-Elissa

There's a market here called the witches market. And, aside from the smell, the most prominent feature are the dried llama fetuses. Well, a few weeks
ago, I found out what they're for!

They are building a new doctor's office at my work. One morning, I got called to "Come watch!" as they blessed the new worksite. And there, in a hole next to one of the newly made support columns, was a llama fetus
surrounded by colorful bits of paper and yarn. First they set the fetus on fire. Then they poured water on it to put the fire out. And then alcohol to bless the fetus. Finally, they covered it with dirt, and buried it in the foundation of the new building.

And here is what they told me: every building in Andean Bolivia (the part in the Andes Mountains, Gabe) has a llama fetus burried in the foundation. The workers will NOT build upwards until after the burial. As the story goes, if you don't offer a sacrifice to the Pachamama (Mother Earth) she will take one for herself. "What do you mean?" I asked. "Someone will die during the construction. The building will collapse. Or it will collapse once its
built and kill people." (thought: could it be shoddy, third world construction causing your buildings to collapse? No! The Pachamama coming for her sacrifice is a MUCH better explanation.)

And so it is that there are llama fetuses for sale on the streets and buildings here NEVER fall down, I'm sure!

-Elissa

Let me tell you something about people in the Third World: they know how to PAR-TY!

Carnaval started this past Saturday, and just ended Tuesday night (Fat Tuesday, for those of you who are Mardi Gras inclined). Saturday morning, we got up and drove (we: my host mom, 3 of my 4 host brothers, my good
friend MT, and myself) to a little town called Oruro. It's a 3 hour drive south to a town that can best be described as a dump. The place was a pit with little to no redeeming value. But, for one weekend a year, Oruro is THE place to be!

We arrived to find a clear, blue sky, and blazing hot, summer, Andean sun. A quick lunch of choripan (grilled chrizo-- saussages-- served on a hamburger roll with lettuce that is guranteed to give you intestinal worms, tomatoes, ketchup, mustard, mayonaise, burning hot sauce and chimmichurri sauce. They know how to do Street Meat in Bolivia!), and we headed in to the parade. Walking toward the parade was a battle ground! A Carnaval Water War! Water balloons, water guns that put Super Soakers to shame, spray foam... By the time we entered the parade area, we were wet. By the time we found seats, we were SOAKED! I took a few, good water balloons to the face. They hurt.We finally found seats, or rather, seats to stand on (by now dripping wet from head to toe), and the parade was incredible. One, big party! A band, then a dancing group, then a band, then... you get the idea. All of the
dances were different, traditional, Bolivian folkloric dances, all with exquisite costumes and unbelievable masks! My favorite masks were the Diablada, or Devil Dance. (see pics. They're not mine, I downloaded them
from a news story about Saturday's parade. Thanks, Yahoo!) And my favorite dance was the Tinku. Tinku means warrior, and the dance was AMAZING! The men were jumping and yelling, preparing to fight, and the
crowd loved it!!

Oh... the crowd...

Between dances, when the streets were clear, the water war was ON! Water balloons flying from one side of the street to the other, spray foam, beers shaken and sprayed all over the crowd. Jumping, screaming, yelling,
taunting. I have never seen such excitement. Such ENERGY! And during the dances, beers were handed in to the dancers, and the chanting was twice as loud! Every dancer must be trashed by the end of the parade from the looks of how much beer the crowd was giving them.

The entire crowd was sunburned, soaking wet, drunk and happy. Once a year, it's a party that, rich or poor, everyone in Bolivia can attend.

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[Ed: Elissa also sent me this preview ...]

Stay tuned for next week's update, "So THAT'S what you do with the llama fetuses!"

- Elissa

For those of you who don't know me, I'm a friend of Lee's from college. For those of you who don't know where La Paz is, it's the capital of Bolivia. That's in South America (see map)

http://www.bartleby.com/151/maps/bl.html

La Paz is 14,000 feet up in the Andes Mountains (that's HIGH!), we can't breathe too well here, and they eat llama. What more could you ask for? Oh yeah, the women here are HOT (see picture. Photo by Andy Miller.)

I've got a guest spot blogging once a week, so stay tuned for tales of my Bolivian MisAdventures!

- Elissa