Project O.S.C.A.R.

On average, a woman living in Las Yungas has six children.

One could talk for ages about bolivian roads. They are saddening and make me laugh at the same time. I’m not the only one there, bolivians spend a lot of time joking about the roads. But in the end, the state of the roads has implications on the daily life that are purely sad. 

At the moment it is dry season, therefore the dust on the streets is dry. Every car causes a great stir, raising a huge cloud of dust. Next to the roads, the plants are whitish. Sounds like an uninteresting detail. But life in bolivia takes place on the streets. In the jungle, settlements are located directly on the street. People sell food to passengers, kids play on the streets. If everything is covered by dust as it is next to the main roads, then the lungs are as well. This is in fact a problem in the area.

I am amazed by the fact that farmers actually drive around in their “normal” automobiles. But apparently it works. However, people tell me that during rainy season, everything is a lot worse. Cars get stuck in the muddy potholed roads and lot of the roads become completely impassable, as they partially decide to develop into rivers. And when this happens, people get disconnected from local trade, education and health care. Some farmers can’t sell their crops, woman in labor can’t expect help and children stop going to school.

That’s the way the roads look like.

O.S.C.A.R. has got two jeeps. Even though compared to a normal automobile this is luxury driving, we get stuck in the road twice.

I left a jumper outside for half an hour. Upon grabbing it, several rather large cockroaches fall off it. Nice. Realize I am definitely not yet adjusted to the life in harmony with nature….

The volunteering students are responsible for preparing their own meals. Also, in a weekly supply they prepare bread for the whole camp.

The high standard of western technology took care of my transport to the airport of La Paz, Bolivia’s largest city. Immediately, I am short of breath, reminding me that I am now 3600 m above sea level. I am arriving at night and luckly meet the driver of O.S.C.A.R. at the airport. He’s living in the camp, but occasionally drives to La Paz to transport mail, parcels, food and other goods between the camp and La Paz.

The next day, he takes me with him to the camp: a most scenic eight hour drive from the cold and dry highlands to the hot and fruitful jungle, „yungas“. Little by little the landscape changes through the plants that grow greener, lusher and taller. The air becomes moist, I have already removed several layers of clothing and start thinking about my mosquio repellent spray.

Since about an hour drive from La Paz, the road has changed from asphalt to a „sand and stones“-path. Every car produces a huge cloud of dust. I can feel sand between my teeth.

Again, I arrive at night. Thick forrest with thousands of unknown noises. Insects, moisture, spiders, dirt. Honestly, I couldn’t feel more uncomfortable.