Day 679: Not Much Peace

But lots of light.

As I said in my last post, I'm in La Paz. It's not where I'd have chosen (though in fact it was my suggestion). I've lived in London for 12 years and I'm here in South America. Big cities aren't by any means what I'm craving. Peru, and now Bolivia, don't go light on the car horns or exhaust fumes. There's noise. There's rammed and ramshackle busyness. There are crowds.

But here I am and here I was this afternoon, a little unwillingly in my heart. It's been a time of compromise. I'm travelling with a beloved friend and we're finding that our tastes, our styles, our desires are very, very different. So coming to this city was a compromise. I'm on my way to the mountains really, via here. We were walking and exploring, and while it was good, there was a tight, tense nag in me. I was inside out and everything was a little bit 'not how I'd do it'... even though I had no idea what it was, in fact, that I would do. I laughed at myself many times along the way, but ultimately, the fumes and dirty streets were getting to me, so I took my leave to head back to the hostel.

As soon as I did that, my step was lighter, my eyes more open, the beauty in my path more visible. The flowers in the central bit between two massive roads were beautifully put together, colours contrasting, different heights, shapes, patterns. Such love in their design, I saw. Just love. 

All I needed to expand was to be alone...but of course, that never lasts for long when things are flowing. I stopped and bought a coke (yes, I drink coke, yes, I know it's paint stripper and big business nastiness; I hate myself a little every time, if that helps*) from a street seller woman in traditional dress and a hat (they all wear hats). I went to leave and she did a grump-faced nod at the glass bottle. I had to give it back. I stood to drink.

Not a minute passed and she asked where I was from. We got to talking. When I said I did massage as a job, her shoulders hunched, her hand reached for her midriff and she asked me more and more. She took my hand, showed me where it hurt. I stood behind her and gave her a little taster. We talked style, location price (no price for her, not this time anyway – if we do this, we do it for the sake of it). She said no to a bit more of a trial through clothes. She wants the full works – clothes off, oil, deep tissue massage. Let's find a way.

I sat, on her command, on a minuscule stool and we talked longer as she sold and changed and bagged without a flinch. As always here, the questions: children? Husband? Why not? Age? On my own? Really? Family? She went deeper. Why here? Why now? When had I last spoken to my mother? Why would I be away from my family? She was very concerned about my travel plans and tried to make me promise to take my friend wth me to the mountains for protection. What she did do, before I left, was show me exactly how to find her again and make me promise to come back and do so as soon as I set foot in La Paz again. And gave me a gift – a little bag of tortilla chips. And lots of nurture. I hadn't felt I needed it, but I was very grateful for it – just easy, gentle, maternal, freely given love for a gringo stranger who bought a bottle of coke (and gave the bottle back).

I gave her a hug and a kiss as I left. Ascencia. Thank you, Ascencia. You certainly lifted up my day. I smiled the whole of the rest of my afternoon, wandering the streets on a tomato hunt (another story), clutching my little bag of gifted crisps and grinning. A blissful gift, the whole experience. I'm lit. 

* on the Coke/sugar front, I would like some help! I've got me quite a little refined sugar habit going on and I'd like to quit it. It doesn't help me. I feel clear in so many other ways, but I lean on sugar like a drunk old friend. Anyone like to scare/encourage me onto a new path?