We left La Paz behind us on a Friday afternoon, heading north to Copacabana on the shores of LakeTiticaca. Driving out of the city we were greeted by the usual traffic, crazy driving and hordes of people walking up and down dusty streets. Once again, we talked about how much La Paz reminds us of Mumbai, with slightly fewer people.
It is an unmarked door in a low grade neighbourhood. Inside a man has a bucket grain alcohol, a ladle and two square meters of straw matting. He is here to die. Continue reading “La Paz – female pantomime wrestling and grim reality”