Sunday, September 13, 2026

A DAY IN THE LIFE

Strolling through the "Witches Market" in central La Paz.

We are officially halfway through our posting in La Paz, and I’m realizing most of my posts so far have talked about what we’ve done on our travels outside of La Paz.  But our day-to-day life in La Paz is also worth a mention since this city is such an interesting and unusual place to live.

This mural is on a Chinese restaurant down the street from our condo.  Nothing says Chinese food like a cute little llama.

Another colorful mural.  Graffiti is few and far between, but murals are plentiful.

This street in central La Paz used to be a llama market in the old days.

When I initially bid on this, a year before coming here, Bolivia’s socialist government hated the U.S., and there was very little relationship between the two countries.  So I thought I’d be coming to a sleepy little post.  But just after I arrived here, Bolivia elected a new, more pro-U.S. government, and suddenly Washington discovered Bolivia.  In the past year, our once sleepy little Embassy has hosted a revolving door of senior officials and representatives from just about every U.S. government agency imaginable. It has made for a fascinating - and exhausting - year.

A "cholet" (pronounced like it is spelled) is a distinctive architectural style found in El Alto, the high "altiplano" area near the La Paz airport.  The term is a portmanteau of "chalet" and "cholo," reflecting a blend of Western architectural influences and indigenous Aymara culture.  


These colorful buildings often serve as event spaces with the owner's residence on the top. Wild.

Just as we were getting comfortable with the new normal, Bolivia did what Bolivia does. From May to July this year, labor groups launched a wave of protests against the new government.  Their favorite weapon is blocking roads to La Paz.  For 53 days, roads were blockaded, effectively choking off La Paz.  Getting food and other supplies into the city became harder and more expensive.  The blockades ended in July, but protests tend to come in waves, so we’re expecting them to begin again soon. 
The U.S. embassy.  It was built in the 1990s and is one of the more drab embassies I've worked in or visited.  Two of those prison-like windows are my office.

Despite all of that, La Paz is an amazing place to live.  The city is built into craggy canyons, with mountains rising in every direction and snow-covered 21,000-foot Mount Illimani looming over everything.  La Paz is really high:  downtown, where the embassy is, sits around 11,500 feet, while Zona Sur, where we live, is somewhat lower - around 10,500 feet.  The airport is at about 14,000 feet.  The altitude makes some things weird - you can walk up a hill and suddenly feel like you’ve run a 10K - but the payoff is spectacular scenery, brilliant blue skies, and generally beautiful weather.  The food has been a pleasant surprise too.  The restaurants are great, and Bolivia produces some genuinely excellent (and cheap!) wine.  Who knew?

The living room/dining room situation in our condo.  After our plush set up in Jakarta, this older condo is a bit of a downer.  It is also three stories, with our bedroom on the top floor.  So at 10,500 feet, we get a workout just going up and down those stairs.

Our condo has a postage-stamp sized outdoor space.  But I did put up a couple hummingbird feeders, and we now have this guy - named "Buzz" - who likes to hang out on a tomato cage under the feeder.

I had this view of the moon setting behind the local hills outside our condo on my way to work one morning.  La Paz does have some picturesque views.

Not just great wine here.  Bolivia also has its signature cocktail - the singani sour.  Singani is a cousin of pisco - both are made from grapes.  And singani sours can be found on pretty much every restaurant menu, usually at about $3 or $4 a pop.

My favorite feature may be the gondola.  Because La Paz is built on the sides of a canyon, driving anywhere can involve steep streets, traffic jams, and creative interpretations of traffic laws.  The public cable-car system is clean, cheap, and efficient.  I take the gondola to work most days.  It costs about a dollar round-trip and gives me spectacular views of the city.  It feels a little like going to Disneyland every morning - except I’m commuting to work.

One of the intrepid migrants takes in the view from the teleferico.

This is my actual commute home from work.  That's Mount Illimani with a cloud on it in the background.

There are a total of 10 teleferico lines.  This is the view from the fried chicken restaurant at the top of one of them.  This is my vote for the best fast food restaurant in the world!

Everyone uses the teleferico.  Half of Bolivia's population is indigenous, so I regularly share a ride with a "cholita" - an indigenous Aymara woman who wears the traditional pleated skirt and bowler hat.  The juxtaposition of the traditional attire with the super modern transportation is uniquely Bolivian.

There are, of course, tradeoffs.  Bolivia has struggled with fuel shortages, and the lines became particularly awful during the blockades.  People waited days for gasoline.  Fuel quality has also caused problems, including ruined engines for some Embassy staff.   For these reasons, we decided not to get a car.  We also don’t drink the tap water and use distillers for drinking water.  And then there’s the altitude.  11,000-ish feet is no joke.  Some people acclimate quickly; others never really do.  For us, the biggest issue has been sleep.  Falling asleep and staying asleep can be difficult, and headaches aren’t unusual.

We went to the grocery store on La Paz Day, an annual holiday in July that commemorates the 1809 uprising against the Spanish and the start of Bolivia's independence movement.  The grocery store employees were decked out in traditional costumes.  Bolivians know how to celebrate!

After a year, I’d describe La Paz as beautiful, chaotic, fascinating… and exhausting - all at the same time.  It certainly isn’t the quiet tour I expected – but it has been a pretty great experience.


Street dogs are EVERYWHERE in La Paz, and Bolivia in general.  

The dogs are super well cared-for.  Communities put out dog houses for them and feed them.  When we first arrived, there was a mass immunization event going on with pop-up, street-side clinics giving shots to all the dogs.  They all got a lime green tie around their neck after they'd had their shots. 

This is an office building of some sort around the corner from our house.  They have two "resident" dogs - one that likes to lay in the middle of the sidewalk, and the other is on the lawn on the left of this photo.  Both have their dog houses and seem quite happy.

They are generally super well-behaved, just hanging out and living their best lives.

They all have their own "beat."  This one hangs out at the teleferico station near the embassy.

Laying in the middle of the walkway to the teleferico seems like just as good a place as any.

If you look closely, this sidewalk dog house is occupado.

Communities put out houses, food, and clothes for these guys.  While it doesn't snow in La Paz (at least not in central or zona sur), it does get cold.  Lots of the street dogs spend the winter running around with coats on.





Saturday, July 18, 2026

THE OPEN - AND NOT SO OPEN - ROAD

Most of my work life is spent indoors in my office or in conference rooms.  But in April I got to spend a pretty magical day out-of-doors.  Several weeks prior, one of our local staff colleagues who has a weekend house outside La Paz happened upon a wayward condor – a young female who had ended up on the ground and surrounded by street dogs.  He rescued the bird, took it to a wildlife rehab center, and after several weeks of recovery, she was ready to take flight again.  This was definitely a good news story, so we rallied some local media and officials to drive about 90 minutes outside La Paz, to the area where she had originally been found, to return her to the skies. 

This was the view on the drive out to the release site.  Bolivia's high country - the "antiplano" - is stunning.

Wouldn't be a photo of Bolivia's antiplano without some llamas.

The wildlife rehab folks named the condor "Anticucha" which means heart.  Technically, it means heart when it's served as a popular street food... but anyway.  This was Anticucha's limo ride to the release site.

Dog crates also make handy condor carriers.  It was also no small feat for them to carry this up the craggy hillside to the top of the launch site.

Anticucha's first steps out of the crate to explore her new surroundings.

Taking it all in.

She spent about an hour stretching her wings and jumping around to different crags before...

...She took a leap and returned to the skies.

She caught an uplift and just slowly circled higher and higher until we finally lost sight of her.

Hiking back down after the release.

It was about a 45-minute hike to get to the release site, which was at about 14,000 feet.  So, yeah, that was a huffy and puffy 45 minutes.

Felt good to be back on a trail!

Operation Condor successfully completed, we turned to our next road adventure – a visit to Lake Titicaca.  Yes, it is a real place, and it is located a few hours from La Paz.  Our friends were nice enough to let us hitch a ride with them (and their dog Aisha).  Sitting more than 12,500 feet above sea level, it is the highest navigable lake in the world.  Lake Titicaca straddles the border of Bolivia and Peru, and it was a sacred place for the Inca Empire.  It took us about 4 hours to get to Copacabana, the main lakeside town on the Bolivian side, including a short ferry crossing.

Aisha - and we! - are ready for a car ride.

On board the "ferry crossing" - basically a barge with a questionable outboard motor.

Stretching our 2- and 4-legs in Copacabana.

The tarps and colorful fabrics make for a vibrant market.

"Cholitas" are Aymara or Quechua women.  They traditionally wear heavy, pleated skirts over layers of petticoats, shawls, braided hair, and bowler hats.  Given that about 60% of Bolivia's population is indigenous, cholitas are a regular sight. 


Colorful murals are a regular sight too.  Very little graffiti - but murals are everywhere.

Founded during the Spanish colonial era, Copacabana’s whitewashed basilica is the center point of the town. 

Some locals hanging out outside the church.

We were visiting during the "blessing of the cars" - a mix of Catholic and Andean rituals in which car owners cover their cars with flowers and ribbons, a priest sprinkles holy water on the car, and alcohol (beer or champagne) is poured on the hood to "feed" the Earth (Pachamama) to bring good luck and protect from accidents.

A short ferry ride from Copacabana leads to Isla del Sol, the legendary birthplace of the sun in Inca mythology.  The island is dotted with ancient Incan terraces, stone paths, and archaeological ruins.  We spent the day hiking across the island from one ferry landing to the other to take it all in.

Copacabana's water front.

On board the ferry to Isla del Sol.

Land ho!

Looking back towards the ferry landing as we start off on our hike across the island.

The trail snaked along the ridgetop and offered some beautiful views.

It looks like just a leisurely stroll, but at about 13,000', this hike was a challenge.

The ferry landing at the other side was a hub of activity with locals off-loading supplies from the mainland.

Donkeys on hand to help haul their good wherever they were going.

This guy was enjoying a good back scratch after unloading his pack.

Back aboard the ferry for our return trip to Copacabana.

We got our road trip in just in the nick of time.  Within a few days of being back in La Paz, anti-government protests began.  One of Bolivia’s main forms of protest is to set up blockades around the country to choke off La Paz, the country’s main seat of government.  Those blockades lasted 53 days, during which overland routes to La Paz were blocked, closing roads and making it harder and more expensive to find gas, meat, dairy products, and some other supplies.  While the blockades have ended for now, protests come in waves, so we expect to see them again.  In the meantime, we’re aiming to get back on the road to see more of Bolivia and the region while we can.