Soy Boliviana

Who runs the world? Cholitas. This is the women’s instillation of the Llama Diaries. It would be impossible to write anything about Bolivia without mentioning their cultural symbol: the bowler hat-wearing, big skirt-sporting, chatty and sassy Cholitas.

Following the impossibility of taking the Teleférico last week, we made a special trip to visit the silent, floating orbs that glide above the city. As a mode of transport it provided a whole new framework from which to view the city. It allowed for an insight into what goes on in private rooftop terraces, a panorama of all the football games taking place, and the madness and chaos of La Paz traffic jams. A woman that shared our pod was absolutely terrified of heights. She clung on to Eve, my colleague here at BX, and laughed hysterically for the full ten minute ride. We got chatting, and when I mentioned that I hoped to go to Cochabamba next week, she immediately gave me her number and promised to show me around. Read my blog next week to find out what happens...

We emerged from the Teleférico into El Alto, trying to stir some life back into our numb hands whose life had been squeezed out from fear. The outskirts of the city, the more affluent area thanks to the weekly market, were sufficient evidence to for us to realize the scale of the poverty in El Alto. In La Paz, we had got used to the potholes, the stray dogs and the copious litter on the streets. Culture shock struck once again as we took in the begging children, the streets smelling of piss, and the noticeable lack of teeth. Not only was the standard of living lower, but the mode of living was also radically different: Women worked in construction on the side of the road, mixing cement and digging with spades, women worked as traffic police blowing whistles in the faces of minibus drivers, and women worked as gardeners on the verges of the motorway, weeding, watering and cultivating. It must have been like London during the First World War when women dominated industry as opposed to being the minority in physical labour.

What El Alto lacks in infrastructure, it makes up for in culture. The city plays host to the famous Sunday Cholita Wrestling at the Multifunctional. We arrived at 17:00 after the show had already started, and were met by an eruption of applause and jibes from the audience as one man dressed in elaborate glam rock get up sat on his opponent and stuck out his tongue. This was an amazing pantomime experience: WWE wrestling is all acrobatics, and the Cholitas and the other wrestlers added to the show with slapstick love-hate relationships between the characters, and even the involvement of the referees who cracked out amazing moves when prompted. The audience threw bits of orange peel onto the stage, and we couldn’t help but get enthralled in all the drama.

Cholita wrestling was originally conceived of to help women with self-defence who experience domestic violence in the home. We watched a documentary on three famous Cholitas who made the sport famous, and who gained massive independence from their homes and from their street stalls with it. For example, at one point in the film a Cholita called Carmen Rosa decks a man in Plaza San Francisco for alleging that she wasn’t really Aymaran. After their heyday, the women that wrestle in El Alto are no longer real Cholitas. They are modern young women who have mastered the art of acrobatics and use traditional dress as smoke and mirrors to please tourists. That didn’t really matter though: locals and tourists alike smirked at the occasional glimpse up a Cholita’s skirt, and the use of their handbags during the fight.

Turning the clock backwards now, women have historically played an essential role in Bolivia through the presence of Catholic Virgins, with one attributed to each city. On El día de La Paz, following a debaucherous street fiesta the night before, members of the Catholic church solemnly paraded the Virgin of La Paz through the streets. We were sitting in a café, feeling hungover, when suddenly well-dressed Bolivianos walked past us murmuring songs and holding hands. It didn’t make us feel any better.

Bolivia seems to excel in creating a happy medium between tradition and modern life. A recent campaign to recognize indigenous cultures saw Morales’ government install a backwards moving clock in the Plaza Murillo, the main governmental square. Many Bolivianos are distraught at this new feature, as they think it’ll make them a laughing stock, but others consider it an acknowledgment of myths and legends of Andean culture that still permeate urban life. Indeed, the Cholita dress code is certainly an emblem of the mash up between Spanish colonialism and Andean tradition. We went to a protest in support of Palestine last Sunday, and the single Cholita in attendance was the focus of local media attention. She truly represented a collision of modern and traditional living: Protest is integral to La Paz’s spirit, residents take to the streets at the drop of a bowler hat, but international crises still demand a more global and modern consciousness. In La Paz, it’s not a surprise that women are leading the way.