Posted by: Ali | September 12, 2009


Copacabana is a pretty small little border town, it really doesn’t have much claim to fame except for that it’s on the way from Puno to La Paz, so there are a lot of hostels, and as a result a bunch of tourist crap they are trying to sell you.  The name they have for tourist crap is called “Artesanias” which means, more or less, handicrafts.  Which are very colourful.



Apparently I was pretty lucky.  Besides avoiding the bullfight I also managed to avoid a two-day blackout that was plaguing the town, when I showed up in the morning I asked where I could find an internet cafe because I needed to inform my boss that I was safe and sound and deported.  I was told that there was no internet in the entire town, nor was there a place I could make a long-distance phone call.  Okay, that was a bit weird, so I decided not to believe the lady and wander around on my own.  I found a place and seemed to be working fine, but I found out later that that was because the power came back on literally 10 minutes earlier.

Looking down mainstreet, also known as Avenida 6 de Agosto

Looking down mainstreet, also known as Avenida 6 de Agosto

One of my favourite things about Latin America is their street naming conventions.  For some reason, they often name major streets after important days.  I suppose it’s no weirder than our convention of naming streets after hummingbirds or pottery, but instead of calling it like “Christmas Street” or “Halloween Street”, they say the actual date, “Calle 2 de Sepiembre” or “Avenida 6 de Agosto” or “Asentimiento Humano 12 de Diciembre” which strikes me as rather a mouthful.  I wonder if they have a parade on that street on that day, or it’s just arbitrarily chosen.  But I suppose it could be fun to miscommunicate “Meet me on August 6th.”  Where it can be a location or a time, that’s fun.

Cute little girl playing with the Ugly Ghost

Cute little girl playing with the Ugly Ghost

So when I was leaving, I had to fill out a bunch of immigration papers, and as I’m sitting on the curb writing, this little girl shows up and starts pointing to me and yelling at her mom.  Now I really don’t know what it is about me in particular, even if I am surrounded in other gringas little Andean girls will stare at me.  Maybe it’s cuz I wear a silly hat.  But in this particular case it was because of my aforementioned Ugly Ghost, the one the customs officers liked so much.  So she sat down next to me and showed me her doll, and asked me where I got mine, and then she wanted to play with it, so I let her.


  1. Aww, that’s sweet!

    I found in Switzerland that understanding children was harder than understanding adults. Probably because they don’t always get their consonants right, or use colloquialisms, or just don’t quite get the words right. Anyway, good that you can communicate!

    Does everyone there speak Spanish?


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