Every Thursday and Sunday, countless shoppers flood the Feria 16 de Julio in El Alto. It can appear that every resident of both El Alto and La Paz come to this single neighborhood, where just about anything under the sun is available for the right price. One can easily be overwhelmed by the mass movements of people, the ebb and flow of shoppers washing the streets with the kinetic energy of commerce.
On a recent trip to this market, I was easily taken over by this flood, bumping shoulders with merchants and shoppers alike as we squeezed down the neighborhood’s narrowest streets. The movement seemed chaotic and more than a little claustrophobic, and in short time I sought respite from the clutter among the ridge above the autopista, the ribbon of road that delivers cars, cabs and minibuses from La Paz up to El Alto.
Below me spread central La Paz. To my right the bright sun ascended towards its zenith, casting a blanket of golden warmth across the city. From this distance, the city seemed calm, serene. Despite the many cracks and crags wrinkling and pocking the face of this metropolis, and the traffic jams and roadblocks I knew were occurring below, it all seemed almost organized.
Bolivia is a complex place, with a diverse collection of environments, from the urban clutter of high-altitude La Paz and El Alto to the most remote and wild lowlands of the Amazon Basin. But what does this diversity mean for individual people in Bolivia? What does this place mean for the backpacker in La Paz lugging her heavy rucksack to her hostel after descending from the bus terminal? For a city resident looking for a rural escape from the urban grind? For the new lovers looking to a plaza for a moment of ‘privacy’? For the llama herder on La Cumbre, who collects the last of his flock and looks upward at the blanket of stars shining above him?
In this issue of Bolivian Express, we set out to explore not so much different ‘places’ in Bolivia, but to dig deeper and to view Bolivia through ‘spaces’. That is, to highlight the diversity of place here, we wanted to go deeper than the descriptive. We set out to take a look at the environments in which Bolivians (and foreigners) navigate their work, their play, their day-to-day life, and how they create and interact with those spaces, consciously and subconsciously. Beyond explanatory descriptions of locations and scenarios, we set out to highlight the relationships between people and the places in which they exist.
In our explorations, we discovered spaces here beyond the physical. We realized that the places around us contain spaces for the cultural, the political, the spiritual, the metaphysical – sometimes all at once.
As I stood at the edge of crowded market day in El Alto and stared down at the irregular patchwork of La Paz’s streets, I gained a sense of the complexity of space here. Each one of the millions of people here are tasked with navigating their way through the places around them – to engage with their environment, to respond to it, to make it their own.
These are the stories we set out to tell.
Download
Chaos and calm in the most public of places
As I sat for the first time in Plaza España, reading my book and watching the world go by, I vaguely wondered why so many different people had gathered in the same space on a Saturday afternoon, disturbing the tranquillity of the place with noise, crowding and litter.
Bolivian plazas are cultural spaces that pepper La Paz in all shapes and sizes, but they are not just a geographical feature of the city. These spaces can be an arena to proclaim political liberation, a retreat for the lonely, a playground for families and a haven for young couples.
As I observed the plaza, it seemed evident to me where this unwritten article was headed. This was the first stop on my self-designed, unscientific tour of plazas around La Paz, a study of behavioural patterns of plaza users. I would examine the history of plazas, which were part of geographical grid system designed under the control of the Spanish Empire, and conclude that La Paz has reclaimed the plaza from its colonial heritage, transforming it into a symbol of social liberation and interaction. It was going to be that simple.
To begin my investigation, I knew I would need to visit Plaza Murillo, the most famous square in La Paz, home to the Presidential Palace and the National Congress. It is, according to Lapazlife.com, ‘a tranquil place where visitors can contemplate the country’s tumultuous history while observing a rich culture that lives on through the city’s locals.’
Unfortunately, due to explosions of tear gas and dynamite I was not able to get there. Miners from Potosi were facing rows of riot police on all roads leading to the square. Despite my best attempts to ignore the warnings of bystanders, I quickly retreated with the crowds and took refuge in a pharmacy as the protesters streamed along the Prado.
A few days later, I returned to similar sounds and scenes. The protests continued downtown, only this time the police had fully secured the perimeter of Plaza Murillo. I was allowed to pass only after surrendering photographic identification. In this tense atmosphere, I realized that the significance of Plaza Murillo was more complicated than I had expected.
Plaza Murillo was designed in 1549 according to Spanish laws, which commanded that a plaza be placed in the centre of town for fiestas, ease of trade, organised religion and public buildings, such as jails or universities. Even 190 years after the declaration of Bolivian independence, the security of the plaza is clearly vital to maintaining control of the city.
Nevertheless, the disturbance on Plaza Murillo had also demonstrated the use of this space to exercise freedom of expression in an independent La Paz, in a way that reflects the historical role of the plaza as a site of rebellion against Spanish imperialism. Even the name of the plaza serves as a reminder of this history, commemorating the death of Pedro Murillo, a key figure in the fight for Bolivian independence. The protesters chose this high-profile, historic location for maximum impact and to draw attention to their cause.
I was torn between admiring the use of the plaza as a symbol of social liberation and being disappointed that the protesters had been denied access to the plaza to express their discontent. Although there were hopeful signs, this was not the symbol of social liberation I had hoped to write about with such certainty.
Just a twenty minute bus ride into Sopochachi, Plaza Abaroa is surrounded by cafes rather than government buildings. It also saw explosions and protesting from the Potosi miners this month, and panic surrounding a fire outside the nearby German embassy. However, the action lasted just a few hours, without a large police presence, and the following evening the tranquillity of Plaza Abaroa had been restored.
Here, families wander through on their way to the play-area, and dogs flee their owners to play with new friends. Old friends catch up on long benches and couples sit awkwardly, facing in opposite directions, because one wishes to face the sun and the other craves the shade.
Just a few streets away, the silence of Plaza José Carlos Trujillo Oroza, known to locals as the Montículo, bears no resemblance to the hustle and bustle of Plaza Abaroa. Here, the plaza-goers come in twos and they linger around the square, holding hands or cuddling up together on benches.
How wrong I was to expect a one-size-fits-all conclusion about Bolivian plazas! To try and make some sense of it all, I looked at the work of urban sociologist and journalist William H. Whyte, who outlined the criteria for a successful plaza in his 1980 book, ‘The Social Life of Small Urban Spaces’. According to Whyte, plazas simply need comfortable sitting space and climate, access to food and light, and plenty of opportunity for people-watching and social interaction.
I could see that, like me, Whyte had not accounted for the variety and functions of plazas as social spaces in La Paz. So much for the simple conclusion that I had expected. I have found that it is far more rewarding and informative to disregard history and sociological theory and simply watch plaza-users in the act. By observing people, it is easy to see that plazas in La Paz do not have just one category, function or user.
The plaza is a place where friends meet to laugh and cry, lovers enjoy an intimate moment together, and individuals stop to contemplate life in the city. It is also a place for crises and fiestas, which carries the heritage of Spanish imperialism and events of the past. It is a central location for sociability, but also for solitude. It is simultaneously communal and secluded; a public space with a personal significance to its users that is impossible to measure or define.
The question is – which plaza will you go to?
Photos by: Valeria Wilde
Hans Moeller is a German-Bolivian who studied economics and spent part of his life working in the mining industry. Currently, he spends his free time working on astonishing constructions which is perhaps why people suspect him of being some kind of wizard. He can erect beautiful constructions from the ground in very little time. With the use of adobe bricks, recycled materials and tons of talent and creativity, he realises true works of art with his bare hands.
And What to Do About It
Space is of key value when traveling. Given the lack of room in many modes of transportation, often one’s body remains immobile for long periods of time, which can cause discomfort, tension, and sometimes aches and pains.
Paola Mollinedo, a physiotherapist from La Paz, says that the most common problems among people traveling in Bolivia often involve the neck, shoulders and lower back.
Neck problems: Common amongst drivers across La Paz who often twist their neck and hold it in a fixed position for long periods of time.
Exercises:
1. Tilt the neck back and forth as far as possible.
2. Turn the neck slowly to the left and then to the right.
3. Stretch the neck to the left towards your shoulder as far as possible, then repeat for the right side.
Shoulder problems: Often developed by the backpacker, especially the taller ones, as bus seats incline forward and do not support the back.
Exercises:
1. With hands by your side facing down, raise your arms forward and away from your body until they are parallel to each other and then slowly lower them.
2. In the same position, raise your arms forward and away from your body until they are parallel to each other, and then slowly lower them.
3. With hands relaxed by your side, twist your wrists so that your palm and the back of your hands are alternatively facing forwards.
Lower back problems: speaking to taxi drivers in La Paz, the most common problem is with the lower back.
Exercises:
1. Starting the movement from the hip, move the upper body alternatively to the right and left.
2. With arms extended straight in front, starting the movement from the hips, try to touch your toes.
3. With feet firmly on the ground, twist your upper body alternatively to the right and left.
