You Can Always Go… Downtown

by - Friday, December 24, 2010

On a weekend Niko, my friend and Spanish teacher, takes me on a guided tour of downtown La Paz, a healthy distance (at least 10 miles) from where I live. We share a taxi with three other passengers (two in front, three in back) at 3 Bolivianos a head (about 40 cents) and wing it into Centro, downtown.

The high altitude of La Paz naturally implies that there will be many hills, and that most places in the city will be as level as a slide. It is easily one of the best ‘walking’ cities I have ever been to. There are wide sidewalks everywhere (good idea; no, Kathmandu?), a hundred stairs to climb to get to one neighborhood, a hidden copplestoned alley to get to another.

We are dropped of at Central Plaza, where the government is located, next to the Catedral de La Paz. I stare at the town hall, see numerous police cars and firetrucks. Whoa, I’m thinking. These people are serious. We stop at the Palacio Quemado, the Bolivian Palace of Government, which has also been named the ‘Burned Palace’ after it was almost completely razed to the ground following an uprising 150 years ago. I witness the changing of the guard and marvel at the soldiers’ uniforms. They look like toy soldiers, no doubt donning old uniforms they must have worn a century ago. Old fashioned red coats, the square backpack, the cylindrical hats that remind me of the headgear of Union soldiers during the US Civil War – even the old rifle (probably a Mauser) comes equipped with a bayonet.

Next comes the Catedral de La Paz, the seat of the archbishop of La Paz. It is anything you would expect in a European cathedral - two rectangular towers proudly facing the plaza with a dome in back, inside sparse furnishings and elaborately colored tinted windows. There’s mold in many parts of the church, which is a little troublesome. When we exit the church, the plaza is entirely covered by pigeons (who even swarm over every inch of the statues), and I’m thinking I might be in some Italian or Spanish city, that’s the feel of it.

We take the pedestrian zone up a steep incline (repeat: a great place for walking) and stop at one of the oldest souvenirs left by the Spanish, which is the copplestoned pedestrian walk of Calle Jaen, a place people say to this day is haunted. Frequently people still hear horse carriages rattling through Calle Jaen at night, as if the Spanish conquistadores haven’t quite left yet. When we get to the top of the street, there is an army battalion marching through the street in rows of six, each of the soldiers donning their old fashioned red uniforms.

We walk through a series of alleys and backways featuring various markets to get to the most famous church in La Paz, San Francisco. The moment we walk inside it becomes obvious to me that this church doesn’t look anything like the Catedral. The single tower outside suggests something a little more economical, but inside I can see that they have used every inch. There are glass encasings everywhere, holding everything from the Virgin Mary of Guadalupe to the baby Jesus. In anticipation of the Christmas festivities, children are building a model city of Bethlehem near the altar. San Francisco is, literally, a colorful place with hundreds of icons everywhere, a church you would find in Latin America, and only in Latin America.

Up another series of uphill sidewalks, we duck into a sidestreet, and hail a cab to get back home. Niko and I share a bottle of water and laugh at our good fortune. The main drag through downtown is completely crowded while we swiftly make it through Obrajes and from there to the Zona Sur. A great day in a great place indeed.

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