Five years ago Bolivian Express was born between a japanese restaurant and a lift on Avenida 20 de Octubre in La Paz. During the clunky journey from the ground floor to the 17th storey, two young gentlemen and a Swiss-Indian chica lamented the absence of an English-language publication in the country; two notable predecessors—the Bolivian Times and Llama Express—were sadly no longer in circulation. And so the name of the magazine was born as a portmanteau of sorts, an homage to the magazine’s forebearers.
We were determined to find a viable way of printing a quality free publication, given the erratic nature of local advertising revenues and shortage of local English-language journalists. A further (Irish) founder was enlisted and six university friends were boarded on a plane, kidnapped to serve as editorial guinea pigs. It became clear to the founding team that an ideal way of sustaining the project as a whole would be to combine it with a journalism training programme.
What started off as a magazine for tourists quickly turned into something else. After the first 10 issues, we had already covered all the well-trodden festivities and attractions the country is probably best known for. The continuous challenge has been to find new stories from which everyone, including the local audience, can learn something new. Indeed, over half of our readers are native Spanish speakers, so we are as committed to writing for them as we are for the uninitiated in Bolivia. This work has brought us close to people we would perhaps never have had an excuse to get to know: from former presidents, ministers and local sporting heroes, to Michael Jackson impersonators, prisoners serving life sentences and private investigators.
Since our unconventional beginnings, the project has involved over 120 people from 20+ countries worldwide who have come to volunteer as part of the effort.Today, the Bolivian Express team of volunteers live and sleep in a shared house as they explore the country, its stories and cultures with the help of a local team. By looking beyond the salt-flats and ancient ruins, their mission is to bring new eyes to this infinite land. If they leave as cultural ambassadors, rather than just tourists, the project has achieved one of its aims. And, of course, by flicking through these pages you, the reader, are closing the circle and helping to complete this project’s mission.
Over the years we have also worked with a large number of people across the world: editors scattered across San Francisco, New York and Caracas, a web developer in Berlin, an editor and marketing director somewhere in the Swiss alps, and even a virtual assistant in Bulgaria (hey, Pavlin). As past team members have taken on new challenges, others have appeared and have reshaped the project anew. With this, our 50th issue, we are incredibly proud to say that Bolivian Express has a life of its own; it exists as something greater and wiser than the people who have made it possible so far.
Thank you for being a part of this journey.
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PHOTO: K-OS GALÁN
With the twirling skirts of the Kulluwada dancers, the booming backdrop of constant live music and the mile-long water fights along El Prado, Carnival in La Paz is always a vibrant affair. From this traditional celebration of indigeneity, a surprising new Carnival feature has emerged: La Familia Galán.
Dwarfing the crowds in their towering heels, their multicoloured wigs swaying as they throw their heads back in laughter, this family of drag queens is a bona fide Carnival superstar. While each year they wow the crowds with their extravagant drag performances, the family's activity extends far beyond the world of entertainment. La Familia Galán is Bolivia's undisputed pioneer in LGBTQ activism.
Formed in 2001, this cross-dressing collective has spent the past decade challenging the unabashed machismo that still dominates Bolivia's political and public spheres. In a country where discussion of sexual diversity remains largely taboo, La Familia Galán refuses to be silenced. Its members abandon the fringes of mainstream society and penetrate pop culture. The family has its very own television show, called ""Transformando"". And although it’s not exactly Bolivia's answer to RuPaul's Drag Race, the show provides a platform for open and frank discussion on LGBTQ issues. Their small screen debut, took the trans community out of the closet and into the spotlight.
PHOTO: ELIZA WOOD
La Costilla: a 5am refuge, a kaleidoscopic trip down the rabbit-hole, a time vortex where night magically morphs into day. Like Sopocachi's own Room of Requirement, this bar of wonders and delights appears only to those who have need of it. The nondescript exterior blends in seamlessly with the surrounding residential neighbourhood, but those who know where to look can tell from the presence of a singular light in the window if the bar is open for business. While the exclusivity of La Costilla is certainly a part of the bar's charm, perhaps its greatest selling point is its endlessly entertaining owner, Roberto. As many Bolivian Express interns can confirm, it's easy to be seduced into listening to Roberto's stories of his past lives and adventures across the globe until the early hours of the morning. His eccentric personality is well reflected in the bar's decor: over 5000 bizarre trinkets adorn every available wall space. So don't be alarmed if the next time you pop by you wind up face to face with a stuffed snake, china doll, cat, or one of Roberto's seven dogs.
PHOTO: CREATIVE COMMONS, THIS IS NATAHANIEL, TREY RATCLIFF
Religion is a topic that has often graced the pages of the Bolivian Express, be it from examining the country's dwindling Jewish population to exploring traditional Aymara rituals. Yet little has been written about Santa Cruz' thriving Mennonite community, a curious offshoot of conservative Anabaptism that boasts around 70,000 Bolivian members.
The majority of Bolivian mennonites live in tight-knit isolated colonies. Despite their ever-increasing numbers, relatively little is known about this secluded community. They are descendants of German and Dutch Mennonites, who established the first Bolivian colonies the 1950's. But how have their communities grown so quickly? Through the years, some native Bolivians have joined the mennonite church and moved to a local colony. How does someone from the non-mennonite world make that decision? Why has no one ever written about this? What can a convert find in that community that is not available elsewhere?
