This morning at the market for breakfast I had a bowl of llama ozobuco soup with large pieces of corn. For the first time in a while I felt normal. When I arrived the Bolivians looked at me like "what you the hell are you doing here?" I was the only tourist in the entire market. Tourist A don't wake up at 7:30am to eat breakfast unless they have to and B tourists do not go to the Uyuni market to eat food. That bowl of goodness was so essential. Saved the marrow for last and had it on a spoon with a few pieces of corn.
On my way from La Paz to Oruro I met a young man who helped me take up the entire ride with good conversation. He gave insight on Evo Morales's current state and people's perception of him and I told him about the Lithium deposits in Uyuni. He told me about his uncles in France and how much he wants to join them some day. I told him stories about my father when he first arrived in Canada and how hard he had to work for his family. He replied "Isn't that what we all do. Isn't that what we all try to do, everyday?" "Yes." I said quickly "We're all working towards the same thing." He then started to tell me about how much he doesn't like the new priest at his church and how he prefers the English priests then to Bolivian. "The sermons are just more beautiful coming from an Englishman." I asked without trying to offend. "Why is it so different." He quickly says "It's richer, more authentic. His message comes from aboard. Something different, Something we can learn from."
I said nothing - appreciating and respecting his complete honesty. We sat there for the next hour in each other's comfort and silence.
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