Aboard a more run-down double decker bus with the most comfortable seats we have yet to encounter (in my opinion), we began our journey from La Paz to Apolo. A 12 hour ride across the countryside and through the mountains. It was intended to be an overnight busride, allowing us to leave in the afternoon. Soon after we began the journey, our bus brought us alongside Lake Titicaca (half of this lake borders Peru and the other half Bolivia). It’s quite an unfortunate name, but a majestically beautiful place. Large, gentle mountains cascaded down on our right spotted with small houses and farms, leading to massive, fertile fields. Each section of the fields grew a different crop indicated by the different shades of green popping up from the soil. But these fields took up the entire valley until they met another set of mountains or the lake.
Amongst these wide open fields stooped strong Bolivian women. Dressed in their typical Bolivian clothing they stand out. Brightly colored pleated skirts of thick fabric accentuated with extra layers underneath to create more shape, sweaters on top completed with a pinafore apron top, with a blanket around the shoulders as a shawl or a way to carry a baby, groceries, or anything you might need to transport. Most notably a large hat sits atop the two long braids on her head. At first, I found the ensemble much like a costume, a bit outlandish and over the top. Why would anyone still wear something like that? But as I have continued to encounter these strong Bolivian women in their traditional outfits, honoring the rich heritage of their ancestors, I’ve become in awe of them.
These women are fierce! More often than not when I see them, they’re shouldering a large blanket filled with huge loads. I’m not certain what they’re carrying, but they’re large and look heavy. Yet they walk around the town, onto buses, up mountains like its nothing. Maybe it’s her child who she carries around with her as she works to continue to provide income for her family or maybe she lives in a far off village and came into town to purchase and carry back necessary items. A hat always atop her head because the sun is intensely bright and warm, especially on her dark hair. She doesn’t scowl but she doesn’t initially appear happy or smile. She is poised, she is certain, she is resilient.
As our bus drove amongst these fertile fields, the sun had just begun to set. The work day coming to a close, yet these mighty women remained in the fields. They stooped to pick their crops, they herded sheep, they guided donkeys with carts. Just one or two women in a large section of the fields. They are the few who remain to finish up in the fields. An evening wind tustled the shawls around their shoulders and rustled their skirts. Their faces smooth and tanned with pink, wind-chapped cheeks. With the intensely picturesque scenery, the perfect dusky lighting, and my notice and understanding of the fervor and strength of these women, I became a bit emotional. They are amazingly strong and beautiful. They carry immense burdens, physically and emotionally. Yet they endure and they carry on. I’m in awe of them. It was such a beautiful moment to witness them amongst the serene backdrop. I just needed some Dario Marianelli music to accentuate the emotion and atmosphere. Think of the intensity and beauty of some of the spectacular scenes in the most recent release of Pride and Prejudice. It was beautiful, inspiring, and a landscape I won’t soon forget.
