First, there is by foot, a common and free way to get around Montero. I enjoying walking the mile or so to the main plaza to run errands for the girls. And the mercado is a thing of its own, with all kinds of sights, smells, haggling to be had. The only real problem with this mode of transportation is when there is a torrential tropical rain, and the sewer-less streets (both paved and dirt roads) flood to mid-shin. Things get a little more interesting.
Then there is moto-taxi, the main form of public transportation in Montero. You hail a motorcycle, and as a woman, ride side-saddle to your destination. On a hot, humid day there is nothing like the wind from a moto ride.
In the larger, more cosmopolitan, locales of Bolivia (like Santa Cruz and Sucre) there are city buses called micros, as well as public taxis and private taxis.
But the form of transportation that is uniquely Bolivian, is the trufi. Trufis are essentially revamped station wagons (although they come in the form of cars and vans too) with little 'improvements' made to them: the front seat sits two passengers instead of one, there is the normal three-across backseat, along with two more behind the backseat. And not to mention the re-engineered motor, that runs on straight natural gas instead of gasoline (which involves gas with oil). In fact, the changes with the fuel intake are quite ingenious, as Bolivia has gas, but no oil, and a trufi driver can fill up a large station wagon for just over 3 USD. (Sidenote: I don't know what it does to the environment). Despite which seat you get, trufi rides are almost always uncomfortable. The seats farthest back get little air flow, the three-across are always cramped, and the front is always hot with air from the engine blowing on your legs.
However, probably the worst thing about trufis is getting one. Many people travel between Montero and Santa Cruz daily (an hour drive) for work, shopping, school, etc. And it gets vicious if you want a seat. I mean vicious. At first when I was told this, I thought, "Well, I can just take them as they come, I am supposed to be a gentle observer to the culture...missionary spirit...etc, etc." However on my first trufi ride to Santa Cruz, I saw our director, a nun of the Church, literally elbow people out of the way to get in a trufi. Well! They weren't kidding!
So I have had to learn to "play the game" sort of speak... at least that is what I tell myself after I snag the last two seats for my partner and I. At times, I have put my years of basketball to good use with solid boxing-out as if I were fighting for a rebound (and then I remember it is for a seat in a crowded car). Literally, sticking my butt out and ignoring 40-50 year old Bolivian woman pushing on my back and calling me 'choca' and expecting me to move because they are older than me. One ride, I was going to sneak in the very back with two other volunteers I was with (only 2 seats), when another woman was already trying to sit with them. She refused to listen to the fact that they were my friends, and I was going back there, and I had to resort to firmly pulling her out of the car door by her upper arm (as I cringed from being so aggressive to a 35-40 year old lady). "Just playing the game... playing the game..." I told myself.
But I refuse to stoop to the level of one trufi 'etiquette'. And that is running to an approaching trufi. It is quite humorous actually, as these older, usually large woman, in traditional Bolivian campesina outfits, break out into a sprint to make sure to snag a seat. I distinctly remember my first impressions: "Wow! They are running! Running! For a seat in a car... Very humorous, but a little bit sad and degrading." They will even run holding onto the door handles or better yet, swing the door open as the car is still moving. Quite insane.
In early December, I was headed to Santa Cruz to do some last minute Christmas shopping for the girls with two other volunteers. You could feel the tension in the air growing, as there weren't any trufis; we were all headed to the same spot to Christmas shop (the feria). (I wonder if this is what the lines feel like on Black Friday at 3 in the morning?). Finally! A van... I remember thinking, "We have to get on that van, it could be another 30 or 60 minutes until another one shows up." And all of a sudden... I realize I had a hold of the front seat door handle. I look over my shoulder and there were 10, 20 people clamoring to get in the back, "How is no one fighting me for this door handle?" And then it hit me: I had ran! Not only did I run to the car... I ran along side the car. Holding onto the car... A part of me was mortified. But a larger part of me was so excited that I had beat out 20 people for these front two seats!! Ha! I did it! Haha! I just kept running with the van, as my site partner caught up. Instead of being embarrassed, I climbed into the van, super proud and laughing out loud at myself.
When in Bolivia...
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