Things I Learned On Tuesday ( Part 2)

The idea of my Tuesday outing was to travel to Copacabana on the edge of Lake Titicaca,

take a boat to the Isla del Sol, circumnavigating the Isla de la Luna, eat lunch at an outpost restaurant on a high promontory at the summit of Isla del Sol and head back by boat to Copacabana. Once there I was to pay homage to the black virgin of the lake by visiting her carved statue, housed in the impressively white rendered domed cathedral, which stands  unembarrassed amongst a crowd of unfinished, red brick box houses, in the centre of the town.

I found out that every house in Bolivia remains unfinished, not because of poverty but because of taxes.  An unfinished house is tax free. A place of celebration neighbours flock to as soon as the roof goes on, carrying bouquets of flowers that are strapped to the unrendered walls.

I was told as soon as La Virgen Morena del Lago was installed on the adobe altar of the cathedral centuries ago, the miracles began. The first in 1583, the last three years ago, when a mineworker trapped in a landfall in a mine in Potosi was brought out alive. The only survivor among 17 fatalities, the only miner with a family who had travelled to Copacabana to ask mercy of the Virgen.

The most fundamentally pleased thing that I learned on my Tuesday tour was that even if a plan is altered, that alteration need not lead to disappointment. We could not take a boat from the lake shore at Copacabana, as the boat was small and the wind strong. We had to travel by road to a position more proximate to Isla del Sol where the straits would be narrower and the crossing more secure.

The road we were directed to ran through a forest of eucalyptus trees to a place of reeds and water. The high track gave us a view of the gentle shore, the basin of reeds and tethered boats. I surrendered and almost laughed out loud, when I thought Bolivia had exhausted its offering of beauty it showered me with more.

The territory I was driven through was a valley of rich land. In this valley there was no need for land redistribution that was a necessity in other poorer parts of Bolivia. Here campesinos divided the valley, each family owning their own portion of the land. There were no title deeds. Title was memory, everyone knew to whom the land belonged. Trade in land was possible by exchange but strangers or foreigners would never have access to the valley Juan assured me of that. Lack of title was a protection, a guarantee as to the identity of those who would be allowed in.