The Promised Land

‘Where the fantastical is reality’...this is the official slogan of the Bolivian tourist board. It aptly represents the land of contrasts in which I find myself. This week’s installation of the Llama Diaries revolves around religion: ancient, modern and hybrid.

This choice of theme is firstly inspired by my recent trip to Tiwanaku, a pre-Colombian archaeological site, and a two hour incredibly idyllic bus ride from La Paz. Tiwanaku is a clash of cultures, it played host to civilizations trading from both Peru and Chile. Tall anthropomorphic sculptures dot the series of the small walls, and crowd the museum just outside the site. These figures have icons and representations tattooed all over their bodies, such as the condor, puma and snake which are three sacred Incan animals. They are very imposing – especially the ones whose heads have been decapitated. Indeed, the site exposes conflicting objects of devotion: not only would the Spanish colonisers have destroyed the sacrilegious half-human figures because they didn't fit with Catholicism, but there’s also evidence that they destroyed Incan crosses in search of the gold adorned within.

I crashed a guided tour which explained the site in depth, and pointed out the areas where sacrifices were made, including that of llama and guinea pig (pobresitos!). The tour guide was using a small mirror to reflect the sun and indicate points of interest. This was an interesting modern interpretation of the sun worship integral to the ancient culture that surrounded us: Tiwanaku was adorned with precisely placed sun doors capturing the year’s sacred solstices.

The ceramics museum housed a mummy a million times scarier than any of those in the British Museum. It was wrapped up in a wicker basket with the skull poking out. I tried really hard to take a picture for you lot, but the security guard was following me around like I was a 14-year-old in Superdrug. Try Googling 'Momia Aymara'.

I went to El Alto on Wednesday, and noticed some mummies with a modern twist. People hang up Guy Fawlkes-esque scarecrows outside their houses to warn off robbers and thieves. I interviewed a Sociology PhD student who explained that the influx of rural-urban migration has seen a correlated increase in crime. People migrating as free-radicals rather than in groups has made for an anonymous neighbourhood. I was told that the police don’t always catch criminals, so residents have taken the law into their own hands.

Not only were the mummies going all medieval on me, but there was also a lot of political graffiti heralding Evo Morales as the Messiah of politics. We watched a film about Morales called Evo Pueblo, which featured lots of panning shots of him walking across a desolate landscape and looking pensive. The blatant emphasis of Morales’ ‘What would Jesus do?’ moral compass was complete when we watched the young president staying up all night during his years as a shepherd to ensure the safety of his flock. He also had a great relationship with his father, and was really popular at school.

To conclude, us girls at the BX house have discovered a new religion in Orange Is the New Black. We settle into our comfy leather pews in the evening and stare transfixed at the TV.