Local Bolivian Bus - Not So Cool

Directly after I got back to Uyuni from the Salt Flat tour, I printed my Argentinian Visa and then went to the bus station to buy a ticket to the southern Bolivian city of Villazon, which is a main entry point into Argentina. Keep in mind when I say "bus station" I actually mean a side street in a small dirty Bolivian town which has a bunch of small storefronts that boast bus tickets to random tourist locations. I found one that had Villazon listed on it and bought the second to last ticket on the next bus out of town. It was about 5:15pm when I bought the ticket, which was on a bus that left at 8:30pm that night. So after leaving Andreas I walk back to the tourist shop, which is now full of locally dressed women with babies wrapped on their back, local kids trying to sell this-and-that, random tourists looking lost, and dogs walking in and out. I ask the same woman I bought the ticket from about when and where the bus is gonna get me, and she says it will be out front in a few minutes. I meet some random travelers out front and we laugh at the chaos. I also notice two dudes in the tourist shop who were sitting a few seats in front of me and Andreas in the overnight bus from La Paz to Uyuni a few days prior. I strike up a conversation with them and find out they are students from Paris, just taking a month or so to travel throughout South America. Nice guys - kinda dorky - smoking every chance they can get. I'm guessing they are 20 at most. We agree to help each other find the bus, so I walk outside and start asking around and soon enough the bus pulls up on the other side of the street. I confirm with the driver that this is the bus and then go grab the French-smoker-duo and we get on the bus. This is the local bus. There is no bathroom. There are many locally dressed women who have bought one seat on the bus but they have two kids with them. Almost every local on the bus has also brought huge rolls of paper towels or other goods they bought in Uyuni - the big town compared to where they are from. I've got an assigned seat, which I'm excited about - seat number 50. I start walking down the bus and realize that seat number 50 is going to be towards the back of the bus. Wait - it IS the back of the bus. There are two seats on either side of the bus as I walk down the isle, but the last row on the bus is five seats across (seats 47-51). It appears I bought the second to last seat on this bus. Part of me is happy to have gotten this seat, while the other side (the greater side) is nervous about sitting in the last row of a local bus for a 9-hour bus ride through the Bolivian countryside in the middle of the night. So I get to my seat which would be the isle seat on the right side, but there is a middle seat here in the last row of the bus, so I'm stuck between the window person and the only seat in the middle of the bus. Neither the middle person nor the isle person on my side is in their seat yet, but the French-smoker-duo has gotten the two seats on the left side of this last row. We laugh at one another for getting the last seats on the bus, and we naively hope that maybe somehow the seats between us will be left open. Yeah right. A few minutes later a skinny South American kid comes and sits next to me in the window seat, and then an older locally dressed woman with tons of bags comes and sits in the middle seat. So there I am - stuck between two randoms in the back of the local Bolivian bus, set for an almost 9 hour ride. Just as we are about to leave I notice the Argentinian couple who were in my group on Machu Picchu get on the bus. Yes! Someone I know who knows Spanish much better than me who can help me navigate this trip. More importantly, this Argentinian guy is very nice and I know he'll help me get everything sorted out when I get to Villazon. Solid. So I say hello to the Argentinian couple and they laugh at my seat and then we hunker down and the bus starts off.

When I say that the bus is rickety and the bus driver is going way too fast, please understand that these are both understatements and gross misrepresentations of what I dealt with. The entire back row of seats is not completely nailed down to the floor, so each time we go over a bump in the road (every 7 seconds), the entire back row of seats comes up off the ground. I've got this overweight local women to my right, who is not happy to be sitting next to foreigners, and this skinny kid from Buenos Aires to my left. Actually, the kid from BA is nice and is studying to be a programmer, so we have a good conversation in the beginning of the ride, but I start trying to read my book and he passes out soon thereafter. The French-smoking-duo are both laughing and listening to music on their iPods - damn I'm jealous of them at this point.

About an hour into the trip the bus stops. I'm guessing we are at a toll but pretty soon there is a lot of chatter on the bus and I know something else is going on. So the lights go on and people start getting off the bus. The Argentinian dude calls back to me and says there is water in the road and so we are going to be here for at least 2-3 hours. Wow. OK - so this is Bolivia. I don't have anything to rush off to in Villazon, so I'm actually ok with this as part of the adventure. So I get off the bus with my trusty headlamp light and go to check out the situation. Sure enough, there is a river that is now running across the road directly in front of where we are trying to continue. There are about 4-5 other busses and cars now stopped behind and around our bus, and everyone is out and looking at the water. I'm standing with Argentinian dude who is explaining to me that there has been huge storms just to the north of where we are, so the run-off is causing this river across the road. Some drivers from other buses pull up their pants and try to walk into the water, but it becomes quickly apparent that the water is up above their waist in the middle of the river, so they want to wait until it subsides a little. I'm hoping it actually does let up, because it's very clear where we are and hopefully the rains in the north have let up already. I'm laughing to myself (and with the Argentinian) about how Bolivian this is, and how we might be here for a long time more then 3 hours. About an hour after hanging out near the river, we see a truck pull up on the opposite side of the road, and it starts flickering it's lights and then goes for it. Wow - bold. It's a pickup truck and it plows through the water and makes it across to our side. NICE! Bold but obviously they know what they are doing, so we all cheer and are fired up that we're not gonna be here for the entire night. While this was all going on, the French-smoking-duo have rolled a huge joint and are about to smoke it right there on the bank of the river. They have gotten their iPod speaker out and are now playing French hip hop. I love these guys. They light up and the Argentinian wants to join in as well. I puff a quick smoke and as soon as I'm exhaling our bus starts flickering its lights. Apparently the water has subsided enough so our driver wants to go for it. Ha - classic timing. Luckily the weed was garbage so I didn't feel a thing, and we all walk back to the bus and get in.

As we load into the bus I'm hearing a lot of Argentinian guys laughing and saying this is totally Bolivian. Fair enough. I'm not gonna worry too much about this, and I hope that we just get across without any worry. I mean - the pickup truck made it across so we should be able to make it too, right? Yes. Think positive. OK, so the bus slowly pulls up to the waters edge and then the driver guns it. We dip far down into the water and then kick HARD to the right and then HARD back to the left. When I say we kicked hard, I mean the bus almost flipped on its side. First I thought we were going to flip on our right side (goodbye French-smoking-duo), and then I'm thinking I'm going down in this scenario. I quickly get out my knife that my boy Jim Madden gave me - it's very strong and I know I can break out the back window if necessary. I'm not taking chances here. People are up out of their seats and are visibly shaken. The local women haven't even gotten up, and their kids are still sleeping. The bus is leaning hard to the left side right now, but we are half out of the water on the other side of the river. People from the left side of the bus are out of their seats and standing in the isle so we don't tip over on the left side. We sit like this for a few minutes and people start getting off the bus. I get my things and get off as quickly as possible, but I'm in the back of the bus so it's not as quickly as I'd hope. The French-smoking-duo is still laughing cause they are so high, and now I'm out of the bus and talking with the Argentinian. He's worried but thinks we are going to be ok. The local women from our bus are now all out of the bus and are lining up along the bus and are trying to push it back upright. Seriously? Dude - you have kids strapped to your backs, and you're in mud up to your knees trying to push a bus that's leaning hard against you. Wow. I'm in Bolivia for sure. The Argentinian tourists and all of us international tourists are up on the other side of the road, laughing and kind of nervous about how we are going to get out of this. The bus driver is now yelling at us to come help push the bus. No - no thanks man. I didn't get us into this mess, and I'm not dying here in Bolivia trying to push a bus back upright in the mud. So now we look across the river and see another bus attempting to make the run. Wow - again, bold. This bus fires through, almost flips on its side as well, but then gets across!! Nice. So the new bus gets ahead of our bus and then straps a wire back to our bus and pulls us upright and up the hill a bit. Wow. Relief. Shock. Surprise. Bolivia! We get back on the bus and after a few minutes of high fives and happiness, we settle in for one of the worst bus rides of my life. Bus driver still going way too fast. Seat continues to come up off the ground. Local lady keeps falling asleep on my shoulder. I can't sleep much at all, and we make a bunch of stops along the way for people to get off and new people to get on. We finally get to Villazon after about 10 hours, and the Argentinian helps me get a new bus ticket to the northern Argentinian town of Salta. I've heard this town is amazing so I'm excited to get there and CHILLLLLL.

The local guy we meet that helps us is wearing a UIC (University of Illinois at Chicago) hat, and I know things are gonna get better (pic below). I get my ticket and me and the French-smoking-duo get through customs without a hitch and onto our new bus to Salta. Another 6 hours this time, but the bus is much better and Argentinian roads are much nicer, so all is well with the world.

I'm now in Salta and at peace with the world. This town is adorable. My hostel is right in the middle of town, and it's full of funny young kids all trying to hook up with one another. No, I'm not in the mix. I've been writing here in my blog for the last 4 hours, all while these two young Brazilian guys hit on every girl that comes into the room. Hilarious. Non-stop. I'm here. I'm off to bed now but wow it's been a long ride. I'll be hanging out here in Salta for the next few days, so I'll do a post a day. I know this was a long one but I hope you enjoyed my comedy. I know I did.