Another Year

These were not on my birthday cake, in case you were wondering...

Last week, as I was preparing to leave Cusco on board an overnight bus to Copacabana de Bolivia via Puno, the lights went out. All of the lights in the entire city of Cusco--gone--for about 30 minutes. That simple lapse in light made me too tired. I didn't care if the next day was my birthday, I couldn't force myself (literally in Peru) into the bus. I headed back to my hostel, snagged another bed for the night, and decided to take off in the morning--to Puno, not Copacabana. In hindsight, it was probably the better decision. I got a full nights rest and was able to get all of my paperwork for the newly required Bolivian visa for American citizens.

I went to the bus station in the morning with Alan and Stephanie, a couple that seems to end up in all of the same places I do (something that actually happens quite a lot). I handed the man my ticket, he proceeded to freak out, give me a hug, and yell "HOPPY BIRDAY!!!" I'm not gonna lie, that is probably the most excited that anybody has been for my birthday in a long time. We boarded the bus, and I tried to go back to sleep, until the guy then got on the intercom and started singing happy birthday. He was seriously very very excited.

Anyway, after a long and beautiful four hours on the bus, we found ourselves in muddy Puno, home of the tour that takes you to the home of the floating reed islands (the reed islands, or at least what I have heard, have become a recent fascination of mine, as well as a hot topic of discussion). After shaking off some hecklers, a cab was snagged and I found myself taking happy birthday shots of homemade Peruvian liquor with the hostel managers (it was pretty tame stuff though, Mom). I went to get some dinner shortly thereafter, and returned to find birthday cake waiting for me... All of the niceties were starting to make me feel sad that I was leaving Peru. Though, there has certainly been a trend between the Andes and absolutely unbelievable hospitality, only rivaled by that of Nebraskans. At least, that's what I've found so far, in my short 23 year old life.

I woke up the next morning to take the early bus to Copacabana--my planned refuge and place of relaxation.

The Bolivian Border is a Joke

Considering what Bolivians have to go through in order to get into America, I could easily understand the reciprocal thinking involved when the Bolivian Government implimented the new visa requirements and $100 fee for Americans (More info can be found here). In short, Americans are required to present the following information at a point of entry or Bolivian consulate:

1. The sworn statement for visa application form
2. A passport valid for six months
3. Hotel reservation or invitation letter
4. Photocopy of roundtrip ticket or travel itinerary
5. Economic solvency
6. Payment of $100 visa issuance fee
7. International yellow fever vaccination certificate

As we approached the border, the stuard on the bus proceeded to tell me that I was the only American citizen on board, and that I would be issued a $40 exit fee from Peru. I called his bluff, and asked for paperwork... He tried to explain to me that the $40 would normally be split between all of the American citizens on the bus, but I was the only one--poor me. Of course, I asked to see the passenger list, discovered that there were two more Americans on the front of the bus, which made me think he was even more full of it than I already did. I told them not to pay anything until we saw official documentation of such, and got focused for the border... Since, of course, being the socially conscious and upstanding American that I am, I needed to have all of my paperwork organized and neatly folded in an envelope.

After brushing off the $40 "exit fee," I was grouped with the other Americanos and headed to the office for visa issuance... It was there that I found out--to no surprise--that the other Americans didn't have any of the paperwork and didn't even know about the new requirements. I couldn't help but be embarassed for the 49% of my country that tries to stay on top of things like this. We got ushered through, the guy didn't look at half of my paperwork, was convinced to not bother with taking any paperwork for the other Americans (with exception of our money), got our visas, and that was that. I'm pretty sure that it was hardly what Bolivian President, Evo Morales, had intended. I thought that maybe it was just about the money. Though, I still refuse to believe so...

I eventually made it to Copacabana, and well, the power was out. I was kind of happy about it... I shrugged my shoulders and took a nap.