Colin and I arrived in Tarija early in the morning and found a nice hotel which had a little WIFI for us! We rested for the next few hours, catching up on sleep, and then chose to do a little exploring in the afternoon. Tarija is the wine capital of Bolivia – and just outside of the city are loads of beautiful rolling hills and vineyards dotted with boutique wineries. This is not a city on the typical gringo tourist trail… in fact, most of the tourists we came across while in the area were Bolivian tourists!
We wanted to learn more about the “original Chapacos” (the name for residents of Tarija) - the animals and pre-Incan cultures of the area – so we headed to the university museum. The Paleontology Museum of Tarija City contains loads of fossils of the mega fauna and dinosaurs that used to roam the valleys. My favorites were the numerous posters showing the evolution of the modern horse, cat, dog, and other animals. It also contained mummies and belongings of the indigenous Churumata and Tomata peoples, two of the groups which used to live in the area before they were scattered by the conquering Inca Empire. There isn’t much known about the pre-Incan culture… so we are just left with bones.
Since it happened to be a long weekend holiday (and tours were not running) in Tarija, Colin decided to use the next few days to catch up on some work. I thought I would wander around and see what might be open! On May 1st, after paying a visit to a couple of churches around Tarija, I decided to catch a minibus to a colonial town called San Lorenzo. It was really easy to work the bus system – they leave all the time! One short minibus ride through the countryside later and I was there.
San Lorenzo is a small but quaint little town of 3000 residents containing a home of historical significance for the Bolivian people. I walked down the streets which were beautifully decorated with dried flowers to reach the home/museum of Don Eustaquio Mendez, a Bolivian independence fighter. Mendez was a terrific fighter, persistently recovering Tarija from the Spanish royalists, and when this proved too difficult, preventing any business from being conducted in the region. He participated in dozens of battles - even loosing an arm at one point, and ultimately dying in battle! The Mendez house wasn’t open to visit (as it was a holiday) but I got to see the outside and visit some nearby fields and the cemetery.
Once I finished exploring San Lorenzo I caught another minibus to see a lake on the other side of Tarija. The lake area (and the dam which created it) is called San Jacinto. It was a simple yet beautiful area where straw food stalls were set up for those wanting to eat by the lake. I saw boats going out onto the lake, but I decided to try the local food first.
I wasn’t sure what to order, and eventually settled on a plate of little bright red crabs called cangrejitos. And… it was really rough! While the plate was served with an appealing lemon and a spicy sauce which helped you eat more quickly, the actual dish of boiled mini crabs with their shells still on was not something I’d ever recommend. Ever. Call it desperation food. Even then I’d probably eat the lemon and hot sauce on their own, because there is just no getting over the sensation of a sharp little claw poking you in the cheek while you are trying to crunch through its salty, almost plastic-like shell. I gleefully brought home most of the scary crabs in a plastic bag for Colin to witness (I knew he’d never try it) and then hid the bag away in a drawer in our hotel room as the look of it was starting to freak us both out. Unfortunately, once we left Tarija I realized that we had actually forgotten the bag in the drawer… I would really hate to see the look of horror on the person’s face who discovers that (likely maggot-filled by then) disaster.
On the 2nd of May I decided to pay another visit to the Casa Dorada. I had tried to visit once before and was told to come back on the 2nd in the morning as they were closed a few days for the holiday period. When I showed up at this time the door was locked and after a trip next door to the adjoining theater (where are they?) and more knocking and waiting around, eventually someone showed up. The police happened to show up at the same time as I did and I followed them inside when there were let in by a Casa Dorada employee. I (and a group of local Bolivian tourists) asked about the morning tour that was promised – and we were told there were no tours today. Huh?
After all the hassle and waiting I was not having that. The Bolivian family gave up straight away and left, but I persisted, rooting myself to the ground and repeating that I was told to come the morning of the 2nd for a tour. The employee told me that there was an art show going on (the reason for the police as the art was valuable) and the Casa Dorada employees had been told to work at the art show – and they had therefore designated the posted times for tours at the Casa Dorada as their “break time.” HA! Turning loads of paying, expectant customers away so you can sit around and do nothing instead… Bolivian logic.
I informed her that her explanation for the lack of tours was ridiculous and unfair for the tourists trying to visit the house, but she simply shrugged her shoulders. Finally I insisted that the manager be called so I could talk to him… lets just say that my persistence got me what I wanted and she was told to take me on a tour of the house. A few other foreign tourists happened to show up as she was letting me inside and they were able to join what ended up being the only tour the house ran that day. One of the tourists said to me mid-tour, ‘We’re so lucky, we were told they weren’t running tours for some reason today!’ 
The Casa Dorada is the former Art Noveau residence of the wealthy European import business duo Moisés Navajas Ichazo and his wife Esperanza Morales Serrano. It is an absolutely stunning house both outside and inside. On the outside it is decorated with beautifully ornate gold and silver statues, doorways, and carved features. Both this, and the dark orange inside were designed by the Swiss-Italian architects Antonio and Miguel Camponovo and built (in the early 1900’s) using local foundational materials but imported decorative objects such as the furniture and numerous statues.
Our group was led up the white marble stairs to the reception salon and dining rooms which had lush red carpets and beautiful warm gold features. The furniture really was straight out of any palace in Europe. There was even a chapel for private worship, though because the owner Moisés was originally a descendent of Sephardi Jews from Spain, there was a Star of David present downstairs as well. As we were led around these rooms and through the bedrooms our guide told us about the import business of the owners. The couple had decided to make the bottom floor as series of storefronts so they could display and sell the goods they imported. In one of the rooms I noticed a small box which was labeled ‘banana.’ It seemed to be a box of scents/flavors and I asked about it. It was an example of an import good – old-school artificial food flavoring!
The Casa Dorada eventually became a city museum because the couple did not have any children and their nieces and nephews (who had inherited the house) let it fall into disrepair. It is a beautiful place to see if you manage to force a visit when in Tarija!
After my visit of the Golden House I decided it was time to try out the wine of Tarija. For this I caught another minibus to the Valle de Concepcion, passing by loads of vineyards. I first came across the Casa Vieja where I wandered around to see the grapes and processing before trying some of their wine which was bottled up in these massive jugs. There were overly sweet white dessert wines, quite bitter red wines – the best thing I tasted was actually a clear brandy called singani. The wine was laughably bad, but hey – it was still free.
Wandering to the main square I found a taxi driver to take me on a short scenic drive to a nearby mirador of the canyons.
My taxi driver dropped me off at another winery where I was able to go on a little tour of the place and try its boutique wine Infiernillo. My guide took me into a museum which was filled with dozens of animal skins. I asked her where they came from and she said that her uncle hunted the animals (I recognized numerous puma, jaguar, ocelot, peccary, skunks, and loads more cats and other animals) in the mountains. I felt sick to my stomach seeing the huge amount of big cats just one person had killed – Bolivians really need some education pronto before they hunt all the endangered animals of South America to death.
The rest of the tour included a walk through the vineyards, a dark ‘Tunnel of Love’ the owners had built, and a sampling of their wine. Not only did they slaughter endangered animals, but their wine was THE WORST wine I had ever tasted. The first Bolivian wines I tried (both at the previous vineyard and one bought from a store) had been quite bad, but this one was sickening. Every type (all 5 or so) I tried was very sour, very bitter, very thin, and very very nauseating. Considering it is extremely polluted and dirty in Bolivia (trash everywhere in the countryside here and soaking in the water used to irrigate plants) I think if you drink Bolivian wine you are either uninformed or have some kind of a death wish! YUCK.
I couldn’t stomach any more so I quickly got a ride back to Tarija. It was nearly 3:00 pm and I wanted to see the art show which had almost denied my Casa Dorada entrance. It turned out to be a small collection from the Casa de la Moneda in Potosi… but some interesting pieces! It was religious art, portraits of various patron saints, and some dark stuff!
I returned to the hotel that afternoon to rest and it is a good thing I did… I would need the energy to deal with my next fight for service. The next morning Colin and I had bought bus tickets to Potosi for a scheduled 7:00 am departure… which, while we showed up bright and early, the bus never did. After a few phone calls made by the bus station attendants we found out that not enough people bought bus tickets. SO THE BUS COMPANY CANCELED THE BUS. No one informed us, no one was even THERE at the bus company counter to let us know what was going on, refund our money, or provide help with alternative tickets. It wasn’t until I started telling the bus station attendants we had to catch a flight from the next city that they moved at any pace faster than snail. Eventually (despite originally being told there were no buses to Potosi until the evening) we got ourselves on another bus a couple hours later.
I was NOT going to miss the Tinku festival in Potosi due to Bolivian mismanagement! In Bolivia, you have to fight to get what you are promised because disappointment is a dime a dozen here.
Francesca
No comments:
Post a Comment