Note to Bolivia

We moved house this week and lost a bit of street cred.  For the last five months I have been able to cite my suburb with a quiet smugness, knowing that any Cochabambino will be somewhat surprised and a little impressed.  People take a gringo seriously if they are living in Cruce Taquina. 

In the last few weeks of living there I started to investigate the upcoming loss.   People say Cruce Taquina is a bad part of town. That it is dangerous, or contextually, more dangerous that other parts of town.  In our time there we saw nothing to back this up; other than the big gates (keeping loud dogs angry) that plague most streets with actual houses in Bolivia.  

As I started to canvas the truth of the rumours, most agreed.  A local Bolivian friend of ours was even not allowed to come to a party at our house because of its location! 

So that leaves me lucky for my loss and at the same moment lucky for the time I spent getting to know the sites, smells, shops and sellers of where I (so smugly) called home.  

Now we’re living it up in the central city, in an apartment with mod-cons like an actual bed, an oven and the internet (street-cred rising again!).  

This is what life consists of