Fish, beer and heat

Fish, beer and heat

Waiting for a train in Santa Cruz de la Sierra. Where? Well, quite far from everywhere, actually. And not many things to do around here. But, this Thursday I woke up thinking about the difference between the tourist's view (nothing to see, nothing to do), and the wanderer's, or traveler's, who is able to enjoy just walking around and looking at how people live, and how houses have been built, and history, and political environment, and food. Maybe. Anyway, that's how I ended near the end of the city, punishing myself with cold beer and grilled freshwater fish.
This morning I just came out of the little hotel and started walking around. There is a lot of economic development in Santa Cruz, but that's it. It is difficult to find any sign of cultural activity, or a 'spirit' that allows the visitor to enjoy the urban feeling. The main plaza has become an unwelcoming spot, and the old town is not as nice as it was 15 years ago. Don't even think about the 'rings', that mark the expansion of this city. Bolivian visitors usually lock themselves in beautiful hotels. Others, they are just passin by. So, it is hard to find a reason to stay here for more than a day. Unless you are waiting for a train. And this is the Death Train, nonetheless.
For the traveler to this city: if you happen to spend some time in Santa Cruz, stick to the centro, but walk away from the main plaza, 3 or 4 blocks, looking for a side of the city that looks nicer. All of this under a burning sun, that makes you understand why most of the sidewalks are covered by roofs.
That's how I ended up in a market near the '6 de agosto' area. Bolivia is a country of markets, and they are amazing, the best you can find in Latin America and in most of our world. Santa Cruz is not specially famous for markets, but still... This was my first Bolivian market in a while, and it was so nice. From parrots to electronic devices, the offer of goods was huge. Fruits from the jungle, giant mandioc, beautiful and huge pineapples. And, something I had never seen before: very fresh hens, opened in 2 halves, so you could see the inside, including the eggs, the eggs that where coming out in the following days. The one for tomorrow, already with a hard shell and white, and the others like little yellow balls, of different sizes, very soft. It was like looking at the future. Wow.
The walk around Santa Cruz was very nice. And it was a good chance to see so many different people. Because this city has been receiving migrants from different places for decades. Besides the indigenous people from other parts of Bolivia, Brazilians and Paraguayans, the most notorious are: the Menonites, with their blue overalls and women dressed as if from another time, the Okinawans, brought here decades ago, and a funny group of Russians dressed a characters of the brothers Karamazov. And there is more, and maybe more sinister, you just dont's see them.
The city is in the middle of a policital conflict. They obviously hate the central Government headed by Evo Morales, and the walls are covered by graffittis calling for the autonomy of the region, and insulting the President. Some are very strong. Others, not so much. I just read one saying: 'Evo, you are bad'. But there are others that kind of explain what happens here, like: 'This is not my President'.
It was noon when I took a taxi and asked the driver, where is the fish man? He didn't know, so we stopped to ask, and found out about a market called 'El Bosque', where the fish from the jungle rivers and lakes arrives everyday. Well, it was an experience, because you see, the freshwater fish in this part of the world is an experience. The European perche (or is it perch?) is like plastic food if you make comparisons.
Well, in this market they have all this fish from the jungle and lots of grills with the fish on top, and these ladies cooking it. But, no beer, so I had to leave, but before found out about a place where you could have the best of 2 worlds under the burning sun of Santa Cruz de la Sierra at noon. I mean, grilled freshwater fish and cold beer. The result, a taxi that took me close to nowhere, almost where the city ends, to the restaurant of Pescadería Mario.
Mario's wife grilled a piece of 'pacú'. This fish is very wide, like a sole, but fat. And can be very big, 20 kilos. In the Amazon river the ribs of this fish (or its cousin, called 'tambaqui' over there) are broiled, and it is a meat with that taste... it is, again, an experience. And that's the end of this post: just imagine the vagabundo, seated in a table by the side of a dirt road full of dust, drinking Paceña beer, and having this grilled 'pacú' ribs. It was like teletransporting to the far west of the movies, but maybe in another planet. But, I didn't have a gun that would have been just perfect for a cowboy of a fishboy... Still, there was a secret weapon in my backpack: a boomerang.

Lesson learned: don't forget my camera again!
(Luis Cordova, Santa Cruz, somewhere. Today is hot, hot hot. Blue skies. Tonight, full moon)