Day 4: It's Hard to Get To Hardeman

We made it back to our hostel in Samaipata that morning where we ate breakfast and took hot showers. We hailed a taxi back to Santa Cruz but again were stuck with two other passengers in the same taxi. The good part was that the three of us sat in the back while the two other passengers were crammed into the front passenger seat. The highlight of the trip was the sour cream Pringles that George bought right before we left.

Once in Santa Cruz, Ben ran some errands and George and Joe wrote for this blog that you are now enjoying. A couple hours later we took a taxi to catch the fabled bus to Hardeman, Ben's work site and home for the past year and a half. At the bus stop Ben went to buy some tickets and told us to get onto a bus with large letters painted on the side declaring it to be comfortable, reliable, and luxurious. It turned out be none of these. By the time we got on the 30 seat bus there were no seats left, nor was there any space for our luggage. A number of passengers were small storeowners and used the bus to transport large bags of food and goods to restock their stores. We were stuck in the aisles with our bags and their supplies.

As we settled in for the 4 hour bus trip, Ben pointed out to us the half a dozen people on the bus that he knew from his small 3,608 person town of Hardeman. There was a past member of the water cooperative, two store owners and some other familiar faces. He also explained that this region of Bolivia, the eastern region, had in the past been mainly populated with lighter skinned Bolivians that had more European ancestry. This area was now seeing more immigration of western Bolivians from the higher elevations who had more indigenous ancestry and were seeking better agricultural land.

The first half of the bus ride was uneventful. We passed through a few small towns and bought some bread from one of the hawkers through the bus window. It was quite enjoyable until the second half of the trip when we left the nice paved roads and started in on dirt roads. The passengers started shutting the windows on the air conditionless bus and one passenger smiled and said to us in Spanish: ¨prepare to eat dust.¨ The dirt road had about a half a foot of fine dirt and dust on top of it and every time a truck or bus passed by clouds of dust blew into any open windows.

This was uncomfortable; we were still standing, really hot, and now eating dust. As we passed more towns, more passengers got off and we finally could sit down. The sun set and the bus went from really hot to just hot. The situation was getting better...until the bus stopped.

The bus had run into a giant mound of dirt and couldn’t drive over it. This dirt on the road was incredibly fine had the consistency of talcum powder. The rain, wind, and other vehicles created patches of ruts and mounds that were difficult to drive through. After trying to back up and ram through the mound a number of times, the driver told us all to get off. One by one the passengers got off the bus. After a couple pushes we helped push the bus over the mound and cheered with joy. One by one we all got back on the bus. This pattern repeated itself about 5 or 6 times throughout the trip. Although sometimes just getting the passengers off and reducing the weight of the bus was enough to get over the mounds of dirt. Along the way we saw 4 or 5 trucks that were abandoned because they had been stuck so much a tractor needed to pull them out.



By the time we finally arrived in Hardeman the novelty of getting stuck in dirt mounds had wore off. And our patience for all the storeowners taking up to 20 minutes getting all of their goods of the bus was running low. We were so happy to reach Ben’s town that instead of waiting the 5 stops to get to his house, we grabbled our backpacks and got off at the first stop and just walked.

We arrived in Hardeman around 9 pm and immediately dropped off our belonging and walked to a going away party for an American scientist. This scientist was helping Hardeman with their high levels of fluoride in their drinking water. Ben had been working closely with this scientist and we were all invited to the party. We ate some tasty chicken, potatoes, rice and salad. We drank some camba chicha, a thick drink made from soybeans, which was a little less good than the chicken. The meal was finished with huge slices of a jello-layered cake with delicious green frosting.

After thanking the hosts we were tired and full. We fell fast asleep in Ben’s room in the heat of Hardeman.