Car Racing and The Best Playground Ever

5/28/11 1:22pm
I’m sitting in a gazebo in the central plaza, surrounding by the sounds of roaring motors, whistles, and cheers. I walked over here this morning, intending to visit a few museums, but was met instead by a huge commotion as people were preparing for the race to begin. Blowup advertisements and signs along the roads, balloon sellers, beer stands, cell phone promotions, and of course the usual vendors, dogs, and masses of pigeons. Many boys had climbed up trees or statues to get a better view. There were countless sports cars brightly painted and covered in advertisements of phone, beer, and cement companies. Groups of men with helmets and women in stilettos and bright spandex racing suits surrounded each car as they made the finishing touches to the engines and wheels. People pressed against the blue gates that made up the sidelines, but some news announcers with microphones and cameras were allowed in the street. People around me held radios or listened to the rapid Spanish sports broadcast on their cell phones. When the whistle was blown, the car revved up and sped down the street and around the corner, sometimes making awful popping sounds as it went. The street where the race started was gated off from people, but the following streets were not. People stayed in the street to watch up close for as long as they could, till the car turned the corner and a guy with a yellow flag blew his whistle ferociously until everyone jumped to the sidelines at the last minute possible as the car smoked past. After a few minutes, the whole spectacle began again with another car, and another.
After watching a bit, I wandered more through the city, passing again by the bustling central market and walking till I reached the area of Parque Bolivar. The kids area looked like an amusement park and I was surprised there wasn’t a charge to get in. It was basically an amazing playground with some added on amusement park bits. There were countless swing sets and slides of every color imaginable for kids of all sizes. Brightly painted climbing structures and trampolines with big balls to bounce on. There were little Bugs Bunny and dinosaur bouncy houses and a blowup slide. In the center was a little café shaped like a castle and around the back of it were teens playing foozball. Grassy hills where people napped in the sun or played with their dogs, who were clearly owned in that they all wore sweaters. There was one bit where people could pay a small fee for a few rides, from a small Ferris wheel to an electrical worm train that rode in circles to little flying cars that went round and round. But mostly, the kids were happy bouncing between all of the structures in this huge vibrant park, complete with flower beds and tall trees.
As I roamed around, I came across a small kitten sitting in the middle of a bed of flowers. He was maybe 3 months old, all white with one green eye and one blue. The kitten clamored over scattered hoses and made his way over to where I sat so that he could give me a thorough inspection and nuzzle against my leg. I’m still surprised to see so many cats here, all so social, but it was especially odd to find this little white kitten alone in the middle of a flower bed. A nearby vendor soon called to him and he sprinted over to her to get a little snack, and then went prancing around again as kittens do, tossing dirt, pawing at bikes, trying to climb into bags and trash bins. A little bit later when I was swinging in the shade nearby, I saw a few little boys tormenting the poor guy, chasing him and grabbing his tail.
I walked across the road to the adult portion of the huge park, where I climbed a narrow and dizzying spiral staircase to the top of the Eiffel Tower. It’s a miniature replica built by the same person who constructed the original. I had to walk across a little bridge to reach the tower because it was surrounded by a moat, where a guy in rubber boots waded around and scooped out all the garbage. (Random side note – two sisters around eight and ten just came to sit in the gazebo, the younger with a Hello Kitty purse and the older one carrying a coach purse with a tiny Pomeranian puppy stuffed inside. The pup is wearing a little shirt that says Best In Show. Quite odd to see here, but parts of this city are definitely on the wealthier end.) Anyway, back in the park, there were European-looking pathways with tons of trees and flowerbeds, signs saying to care for the park, trash cans and even recycling bins, and many locals resting on benches or walking around. There was one stretch with artisan booths, food vendors, a company offering to improve ones reading and comprehension skills, and lots of ice cream stalls. Across the street were brilliantly white government buildings that stretched across entire blocks.
As I headed back towards the central plaza, I walked with a guy who teaches Spanish at another of the schools in the area. He spoke in English and I spoke in Spanish, except when we corrected each other’s mistakes. It was interesting to hear that he had three dogs who all lived in his house and backyard and never roamed out on their own. There are so many different classes of people and animals here, but not much of the rich taking care of the poor.
Back in the central plaza, I sat down with a vegetarian saltena and an ice cream to type and watch the continuing bustle of the race. During lunchtime, the cars took a break and the motorcycles did their run, but now the cars are back, zooming around like crazy. From what I can understand, this is a two day long event and the finals are tomorrow, when the winners will receive a trophy and a money prize.
Of the three big cities I’ve seen so far, Cochabamba was by far the most Europeanized, with fancy boutiques, outdoor cafes with wifi, a huge university, and many families with their own cars. Most Bolivians that are able to travel abroad are from Cochabamba, that’s where the money is. Though there were definitely those very sketchy areas of the city by the train station, there always will be those sorts of places. In La Paz, I didn’t see the wealthier part of the city, but the part where I was based was constantly bustling with people in traditional dress and had lots of interesting streets and old fashioned buildings. Everything was nice and cheap, but it was really hard to find much vegetarian food or even a trash can. There were almost no privately owned cars – the streets were filled with microbuses, taxis, and the occasional stoplight that everyone ignored. Here in Sucre is a nice in between with many remnants of traditional culture, a mix of private cars and taxis, and food on all ends of the spectrum. Everyone congregates together in the central part of the city around the many plazas filled with fountains, trees, and statues. As you stray into the more residential areas, the socioeconomic lines are very clear by the condition of the houses, the number of dogs roaming the streets, and the proximity to paved or easy to walk roads.
Vroom, these speedy cars are ridiculously loud.