
ISSUE #100 - SPECIAL EDITION
The Bolivian Express celebrates its 100th issue and tenth year this month. Over 300 interns have come to Bolivia to be part of the BX experience and left, we hope, with a better understanding of Bolivia and its culture. Some, actually, never left. We wrote about, among other things, chickens (Bolivians really like chicken), ice-cream vendors, chullpas (pre-Columbian tombs) and fat-sucking vampires roaming the altiplano (yes, that’s a thing); we tried to explain local trends (there are so many vegan restaurants now!) and current events (where to begin?) as clearly as possible. There are some questions we were never able to answer, though. Is it spelled Abaroa or Avaroa? Where do taxis disappear when it rains?
This couldn’t have been possible without the participation of the many interns who wrote for the magazine and gave it life. They’ve come from the United Kingdom, the United States, Australia, Belgium, France, Ireland, Indonesia, Italy, Germany and South Africa, bringing some of their culture to Bolivia and taking back with them a taste for salteñas (because salteñas are, very objectively, the best). There was romance, a cat called Kandinsky, dog bites, roadblocks, a kitchen fire, a very long bus journey to Vallegrande, a few ghosts and an inexhaustible number of stories that never made it to the magazine’s pages but are nevertheless a part of the BX experience.
Ultimately the BX was and is a human adventure. We wanted to tell stories about Bolivia but we ended up doing something better. Over the years we built a network of interns and contributors which now spreads all across the world, hopefully bringing some attention to Bolivia and all its wonderfully weird idiosyncrasies. This project started as a group of friends with an idea and it became a family with a home in Bolivia. In these uncertain times, there are few things we can be sure of, but regardless of what the future brings, the friendships and connections that have formed inside the BX house will remain, and we hope there will be many more to come with many more new stories to share. (And maybe, one day, we will tell you what happened on that trip to Vallegrande.)
To all the people who came to Bolivia to be a part of the Bolivian Express, to the photographers and illustrators, to the people who were interviewed and featured in the magazine, to our past and present team and to all our readers: thank you.
Photo: William Wroblewski. Model: Profe Donato Monroy.
Cover Issue #74
KNOWLEDGE (S)
This is the story of a girl—let’s call her Lizeth and let’s imagine she’s 10. Lizeth grows up in a small town at the edge of the Bolivian altiplano. She goes to public school, the proudly named Unidad Educativa Litoral Boliviano, which she has attended since primer grado. Every week starts the same way, with the raising of the Bolivian flag and the singing of the national anthem. Lizeth’s favourite classes are Science, Aymara, and Physical Education However, school days don’t last very long: only four to five hours. To fill her free time, she learns how to play rugby from a gringo who recently arrived to teach this unheard-of sport. (She and her friends greatly enjoyed playing against a boys’ team from La Paz and beating them with ease). The other day, her professor of Valores mentioned that an organisation involved in something called ‘integral education’ will come to the town and teach its spiritual programme in the afternoons.
This imaginary but very possible town is closer to reality than you might expect, with Lizeth’s story demonstrating very real changes to Bolivian schools.
Education throughout Bolivia is indeed developing, and has made major, if slow, strides since Law 1565 of 1994, introducing the idea of ‘intercultural bilingual education’ to the country. This has since been consolidated by Law 070 Avelino Siñani-Elizardo Pérez (ASEP) in 2010 which is based around four main areas: decolonisation, plurilingualism, intra and interculturalism, and productive and communitarian education.
Inspired by the latest law and the defining concept of Vivir Bien (Suma Qamaña), the municipality of La Paz has started a programme of emotional intelligence to teach kids how to understand and manage their emotions. In order to advance a ‘secular, pluralist, and spiritual’ education, classes focusing exclusively on Catholicism have expanded their content to values, spirituality, and religions. The new law aims to redefine education to shape a new generation and a new decolonised identity, reinforcing what it means to be Bolivian.
The formation of one’s identity is certainly influenced by education with the Museo del Litoral, for example, illustrating the role of history and how the way it is taught affects the Bolivian psyche. Nevertheless, for some, school education doesn’t impact much; you can encounter some mechanics and antique photographers, self-taught professionals who, from a young age, have chosen their own path.
Bolivia does not lack spaces where people share and transmit their knowledge in unexpected ways, from a climbing school in the mining town of Llallagua to talks on the presence of LGBT+ literature in Bolivia; learning is not limited to the classroom.
The long-term effects of ASEP on Bolivian identity and future generations are yet to be seen. Unfortunately, it appears that Bolivia is still divided. There is a very clear disparity between rural and urban areas, rich and poor, boys and girls. Implementation of the law is slow at best. However, this glimpse of the state of education in Bolivia does shine a light on positive developments. ASEP promotes a vision of inclusivity, plurality, and interculturality, combined with an integral idea of education that can only bode well for the future of Bolivian students—young, old and self-taught.
For this issue, we travelled to the towns of Carmen Pampa in the Yungas, Santiago de Machaca in the altiplano, the mining town of Llallagua, we visited schools around La Paz and saw some of these changes in action. The students and teachers, masters and apprentices we have met, inspired us and showed us what the future of Bolivia might look like. For schoolchildren like Lizeth there are many opportunities opening up and we wanted to share some of these opportunities with you.
Editorial Issue #74, by CAROLINE RISACHER
Read more here: http://www.bolivianexpress.org/magazines/74
Photos: Courtesy of Hocico Spa & APLAB (Amor Por Los Animales Bolivia)
Bolivian street dogs and the double lives they lead
One of the first things that surprised me when I came to La Paz was the vast array of dogs roaming the streets. These furry inhabitants vary in appearance; some are scruffy whilst others wear fashionable fleeces. If you are wondering how a street dog can wear clothes, it might be worth mentioning that some of these dogs live double lives. They are ‘semi-housed’, meaning that have a home and a place to sleep at night, but are left to roam the streets during the day. The Bolivian Ministry of Health estimates that for every four Bolivians, there is one semi-housed dog. This figure excludes pets that live exclusively at home and stray dogs that live exclusively on the street. Naturally, this leads to problems such as the overpopulation of dogs, the spreading of disease and unwanted canine confrontations. Scavenging for food, getting into fights and sleeping on the side of the street all form part of the daily routine of a paceño street dog, whether or not it has a home to return to at night.
There is a culture of keeping dogs as pets in Bolivia, but, according to Amor Para los Animales de Bolivia (APLAB) co-founder Ana Serrano Revollo, many owners lack the knowledge of responsible ownership. ‘People don't know 100 percent how to look after a dog like they should look after it,’ she says. ‘Nor are they aware of vaccinations that keep them healthy. There are many families and many people that don't take their dogs for a walk with a collar or a lead, and they think that vaccinations are only against rabies, but they are not aware of other vaccinations that are necessary.'
The combination of unvaccinated, unsterilised dogs together with the relaxed attitude to leaving dogs on the streets is a recipe for the spread of disease and unwanted litters, considering that of the 2.2 million dogs that live in Bolivia, 40 percent of them can be found on the streets. Some veterinarians organise initiatives to combat this. Serrano says that APLAB 'does contribute to controlling overpopulation, despite it not being our responsibility, through sterilisation campaigns [and] humanitarian education, and we influence with political lobbying so that laws can be enforced.' Veterinarian Andrea Molina Vargas emphasises the importance of educating pet owners. In order to do this, Molina’s clinic, Hocico Spa, organises various talks with owners about the benefits of sterilisation so that pet owners are more aware of the problems associated with unneutered pets. Additionally, most vet practices also offer sterilisation programmes to lower-income families who otherwise could not afford the surgery: ‘We carry out operations at a reduced price so people with low incomes are able to access the treatment,’ Molina says. ‘This is important, as in recent years there has been a notable increase in the abandonment of pets.’
The Bolivian government has also implemented a yearly rabies-vaccination programme. In a country that continues to report cases of rabies (in 2017, eight fatal cases of human rabies were reported in four different departments of Bolivia), it is vital to keep the situation under control. Serrano, though, is sceptical of the campaign’s effectiveness. 'The truth is that I don't know how much of a benefit it has had, how many animals have been accurately vaccinated, and, equally, it's quite worrying that we continue to have cases of rabies and, worse so, human cases of rabies,' she says. However, Serrano says the programme’s intentions are worthy. Green ribbons are used to identify dogs that have been vaccinated, but the method is not full-proof as the ribbons are easily lost, leading some canine patients to being treated twice while others are not treated at all.
Despite the large number of street dogs in Bolivia (according to the Bolivian Ministry of health, 300,000 street dogs were reported in La Paz in 2017), attitudes seem to be changing. In the past, a dog was seen as nothing more than protection, but now around 70 percent of Bolivian pet owners consider their furry companions to be part of the family. Dog fashion is also popular in La Paz, especially in the colder months when owners love to wrap their dogs up in fashionable jumpers.
It is clear that Bolivia is no exception to the idea that dogs are a man's best friend, but what cannot be ignored is the growing street-dog population which is abetted by the relaxed attitude people have about leaving their pets on the streets. Ultimately, the spread of disease is thankfully being controlled by vaccination schemes run by independent vet organisations and the government. The same goes for sterilisation, which is the only humane way to prevent overpopulation. Whether a pet, a street dog or somewhere in between, all dogs deserve to be healthy, clean and nourished.
Offerings to the ñatita include candles and cigarettes and they are often adorned with floral crowns.
Photos: Silvia Saccardi
The festival of 'Las Ñatitas' is a tradition celebrated throughout the Bolivian Andes on the 8th November every year. The word ñatita loosely translates to 'little nosed' and refers to the skulls that are the protagonists of this celebration: in La Paz's general cemetery, skulls are dug up from communal burial grounds that will later be given a new home. These skulls are lovingly decorated and adorned with offerings such as cigarettes, alcohol, coca leaves, flowers, candles and other gifts to commemorate the life of the family member that the skull represents. Every year, families flock to cemeteries with their skulls to sit around it and pray. The ritual of giving gifts to the skull is said to bring good luck and happiness. It is assumed that the festival dates back to the ancient empire of Tiwanaku, when skulls were preserved to call for rain in times of drought. To this day, people are proud of the skulls that they decorate.
Praying to the ñatita is said to bring good luck.
The festival is a day of celebration where cemeteries are lit up by the colourful adornments.
The celebration is both solemn and festive.