Hello all- especially all of those back in the states reading this.  So, as you can see from previous posts, we made it!  It has been exactly a week for me since I landed in the La Paz airport.  I landed at 5 am and was still disoriented when the plane touched the ground.  I stepped out of the airport and saw my first glimpse of the Andes.  I will never forget that moment when I looked up from my bag and saw the towering snowy peaks in the distance.  I felt like I had stepped off of the plane into the Swiss Alps for a moment.  On the ride  into La Paz from El Alto (where the airport technically is located) you can look off onto the left of the road and see all of La Paz below you.  I had never seen anything like it- an entire valley and mountain side compartmentalized into these tiny red boxes, almost like a little lego-land.  It took me a moment to realize what I was looking at- lots of rectangular, red brick buildings.

I, like the rest of the class stayed in Hostal Republica, my first hostal experience.  I enjoyed the casualness of it, and spent my first hours in Bolivia with my wonderful classmates.  We explored La Paz together and managed to find the local supermarket to get food for the upcoming trek.  Looking back, I was in wonder of how I was going to manage to fight my jet lag and wake up the next morning to begin a 72 hour trek.  However, when the morning came that we arrived at the top of the trailhead (16,000 ft), I felt a refreshing sense of simplicity and detachment from the techonological and material world.  It was just us and the elements, and gosh those elements are beautiful... endless mountain peaks, rocky highland, and blue skies.  Within minutes of starting the trek, we came across the first local woman, herding her llamas up the steep rocky path.  She had on the traditional beautiful woven shall, and was in skimpy sandals that made me feel silly in my hiking boots, going downhill.

Aside from the scenery though, what really blew my mind was the ethics and compassion of our trekking group.  It was one of those rare instances where I felt like I was truly part of a team of people who wouldn´t let me down, and who I would everything in my power not to let down either.  Regardless of what you were facing (altitude sickness, fear, a blistered foot, an empty waterbottle) there would be somebody to help you out with an open heart.  As I told my fellow classmates, the trek could be one of the worst experiences of your life if you were surrounded by people who you didn´t trust or respect.  With that said, I feel immensely lucky to have experienced such a beautiful backpacking adventure with such beautiful people.

My feeling of fulfillment only continues here in Coroico, where we walk to the town plaza together, discuss local politics together, and steadily navigate the foreign culture here, together.  It is true that there is a cultural richness to the people here... when a local asks how you are doing, they genuinly want to listen and respond to your answer.  There is a sense of timelessness here that means a) you can probably be late to wherever you are going and b) allows you to truly loose yourself in observation, discussion, breathing, laughing.  It is an odd yet wonderful thing to walk the streets and see peoples eyes free from their cell phones.  There is a level of awareness and genuity to the people here that makes you feel warm and welcome, despite, (as in my case) lack of any Spanish skills.

I am looking forward to getting into the nitty-gritty of our research, and doing my first official field study as an anthropology student.

Speaking for everyone here, we send our love and hellos back to the states!

Chao!