La Calle

The trufi’s line up on Calle Mexico. If the passenger doors are open, feel free to jump in the car. Every morning, Kristen and I take a trufi up to El Alto. The ride is terrifying. The streets reach 20 degrees with the horizontal and the cars dangerously flirt with back gliding. In spite of this, the drivers find ways to make our commute even more exciting, passing over double yellow lines, crashing lights, speeding up on mountain road curves, you name it. And they never fail to wave or honk in acknowledgment of other trufi drivers sporting double flags as they pass each other. The mini buses are my favorite. They have 3 digit numbers on their roofs and a cardboard sign on the dash, indicating the route. Young boys work with the drivers, leaning far out the window, shouting the stops in two seconds or less. 6 de agosto, Calle Peru, el Alto, un Boliviano! Little boys dress up in zebra and donkey suits, mocking rude pedestrians. The city employed street children to keep aggressive pedestrians in check and reduce pedestrian related accidents. The real motive was to creatively occupy young boys living in the dangerous conditions of the street. The streets are never a boring place.