Week 2. 13:15 on Tr 16 May 2019. 10 km W of San Pablo, heading back to Parque Ambue Ari, Bolivia

As we started pulling away from the dirt driveway where we’d stopped, I noticed a young girl in blue jean shorts and a red and white t-shirt running toward us from across the dusty grass yard. We slowed our roll, and then the driver hopped out to retrieve the appropriate package from the back of the van.

In the actual Amazon Basin, this girl’s family narrowly avoided missing their “Amazon” delivery – apart from the fact that the Amazon company was not involved in this package delivery at all.

It’s a Thursday afternoon in mid-May as I find myself in the back row of a rapidito for travel back to Ambue Ari. Rapiditos are shared vans used to transport people distances to, from, and in between towns or cities in Bolivia. I’m learning they’re also used to deliver packages along the route.

Thanks to the Bolivian government, I got another taste of rural life in Bolivia today. I may not be the biggest fan of the U.S. government, but at least it doesn’t grant visitors 90 day visas that require a check-in for a stamp of a 30 day “extension” every 30 days. That’s what Bolivia does. Where the rationality behind that loose policy lies, I have no idea. The 10 minute visit to an immigration office cost me 3/4 of a day and waking up to hail a 03:00 bus to the city of Trinidad.

 

On the plus side I got a pre- day off (Saturday is our day off) from the daily life of Ambue Ari. I got to wonder about the Mennonite community that’s present in the villages of this region when a group got off my bus at a dusty town shortly after sunrise. Although I couldn’t ID any of them, I saw at least 20 new species of birds; one had a strikingly white body, bright red neck, and black spoonbill (maybe?) and head. I got to ride on the back of a mototaxi multiple times. By walking down one main road, I found the main market and was able to sit down for empanadas and an admittedly sub-par warm chocolate that was more like coffee but given to me by smiling Bolivian women who asked where I’m from and so I was okay with. I grabbed 5 minutes of wi-fi from outside a building to check for the exciting emails that I never receive. I waited with locals for rapiditos and got to experience my usual embarrassment and frustration at being so incapable of meaningful interaction in Spanish.

Riding in the 2 rapiditos this afternoon has been the best bonus, though.

We’ve slowed and swerved for cows, horses, dogs, and potholes. When we stopped to let one man out, he crossed the road to join a guy who appeared to be asleep in a station wagon whose back end was packed with bananas.

We passed what looked like an infamous broken down bus. Passengers waited on both sides of the road with their bags. I gathered that they asked if we had room as we slowly drove by, but we were a full van.

Twice we stopped to meet a rapidito heading the opposite direction. The first time we handed off a brown envelope and 10 bolivianos; the second time we were passed a striped purple totebag and 10 bolivianos.

Tooot tooooooot tooooooot went the horn as we approached a gated driveway. Tooooooot toooooot toooot tooooot. Upon seeing no one emerge from the house down the drive, the driver hung the striped purple bag on a fence post and continued down the road. I guess no signature was needed for that package.

As we carry on down the broken road, I recognize the straightaway that tells me I’m almost back to Ambue Ari. It’s now 1537 and just about time for my delivery.