That´s not supposed to be a seat

The best way to get around Bolivia is via "trufi", these shared taxis (just regular sedans) that simply pick up 5 random people and drop them off at the appropriate street corner. You know their approximate route by the sign in the front window that will say something like "Los Pinos" or "Irapavi". Only a picture will truly depict what these vehicles look like, but suffice it to say that Boston cabs are in mint condition compared to these cars. But from where I live, it doesn´t cost more than $3Bs to get to wherever I want to be. (That´s about 37 cents, so you can understand why they don´t purr like kittens; it´s more like a loud sputter of a dying mountain lion). But the trufis are fantastic and just ooze with character.

Yesterday, I took a trufi by myself for the first time. Two, actually -- I had to make a connection :) The first one was rather nondescript, typical green flags flapping from the grill, big sign in the front window that completely blocks the view from the passenger side. The second trufi, however, had suffered an attack from what must have been an avalanche. The sign of impact radiated from the middle of the front window and the body of the car wasn´t looking so hot either. But he was going to where I needed to be. Seeing three people in the back seat, I hopped in the front and waited for the driver to start the engine. Then one more passenger showed up. If you were paying attention at the beginning of this blog, you should be wondering how a typical 4-door sedan fits 5 passengers and a driver.

The answer is that it doesn´t. But Bolivians make it happen. I had to slide over and sit on the console of the car, with my legs over to the passenger side because, of course, all these cars are manual, not automatic. There are no seatbelts on pretend seats, by the way. And away we went, up the bumpy roads, dodging stray dogs, manic drivers, and pedestrians.

The ride was worth it, though, because I met the boys in the homes for the first time. And they are such good kids. We walked into the Renacer Home (which means Renaissance Home - the kids picked the name themselves, by the way) and the five boys were watching Star Wars (the first episode). They hopped up to meet us, shake hands, give saludos (the cheek kiss thing). We finished the movie with them and headed outside to play a bit of football (aka soccer). I managed to last about 15 minutes before wanting to rip out my weak lungs and die. And then I realized they were only warming up. And that we had to walk to the real soccer field. And I was very very wrong to think that the field was a short walk away. They made me scale down a freakin´ mountain, and then up another mountain so they could play a real game. I think us two Americanos arrived a good 7-10 minutes after most of the kids. Um, no thanks. I sat on the bleachers to cheer them on. Now, THAT was a real seat.