Leaps and Bounds
When in a hurry a steep paceñan downhill is an insurpassable ally, but that ally can become a fatal enemy if one lacks proper hussle equipment. Exceptional traction on the toes of your shoes is crucial to survival in La Paz. It should be placed in the category of ¨requiremed equipment¨ on any basic travel list designed for destinees of La Paz. Just as a seatbelt in a car is insufficient to save a driver or passenger´s life, however, so is good shoe traction for a pedestrian in La Paz. Prevention via diligence and vigilance are also crucial. When reaching the crux between a steep downhill slope and flat road, a controlled screeching halt is the crucial buffer between yourself and the runaway traffic. So far as I am aware pedestrians have yet to score a victory in the battle of runaway cars vs. runaway legs. Until that victory is scored, good traction is a necessary emergency break.
Just two days ago I found myself bounding down such a hill. The hill from home to the central downtown area. To try and put into perspective the grade of incline/decline from our home to the nearest flat road below, it is a hill that takes 12 minutes to climb up, and only 4 minutes to fly down at a hurry. Sometimes the difference between our leg size slips Eli´s mind and I have to remind him his flying downhill La Paz stride is a slight jog for me.
As I reached the bottom of the hill two days ago, a maniac taxi rounding the corner causes me to put into use my shoes super-runner-grip power as I slide along the slippery pavement and just barely avoid tumbling head first off the curb. Enough of a speedy recovery allowed me the leisure time to observe the taxi driver excessively honk at a pedestrian with unfortunate street-crossing timing. I notice the pedestrian wave in apology and jog out of the way. The taxi accelerates away and I notice the pedestrian is a traffic cop. Perhaps only in La Paz would the taxi driver have authority over a traffic cop.
Being a pedestrian in La Paz provides myriad opportunities for reflecting on the capricious taste of death, and the corresponding unpredictable nature of life. Multiple such encounters a day remind me of the preciousness of life. This relatively minor incident gave me the following fresh insight on my passion for life in La Paz: it is feasible the invigoration that jolts me into action each morning is the by-product of such consistent mingling with death and illness. To see the elephant from this point of view for the first time makes the elephant seem a different animal entirely. This thought provoked me to interpret the culture of world travel and professional scallawags from a fresh vantage point as well. The reality that dedicated world travelers create and thrive upon is one where instability in day-to-day life is used as the foil to intensifiy the vibrancy of life. That is why similar to those lost in the additction to methamphetamines, one can become addicted to travel: it enhances the vivid joys of the quotidian and can leave the unprepared depressed and strung out on boredom when forced to return to a normative life.
When in a hurry a steep paceñan downhill is an insurpassable ally, but that ally can become a fatal enemy if one lacks proper hussle equipment. Exceptional traction on the toes of your shoes is crucial to survival in La Paz. It should be placed in the category of ¨requiremed equipment¨ on any basic travel list designed for destinees of La Paz. Just as a seatbelt in a car is insufficient to save a driver or passenger´s life, however, so is good shoe traction for a pedestrian in La Paz. Prevention via diligence and vigilance are also crucial. When reaching the crux between a steep downhill slope and flat road, a controlled screeching halt is the crucial buffer between yourself and the runaway traffic. So far as I am aware pedestrians have yet to score a victory in the battle of runaway cars vs. runaway legs. Until that victory is scored, good traction is a necessary emergency break.
Just two days ago I found myself bounding down such a hill. The hill from home to the central downtown area. To try and put into perspective the grade of incline/decline from our home to the nearest flat road below, it is a hill that takes 12 minutes to climb up, and only 4 minutes to fly down at a hurry. Sometimes the difference between our leg size slips Eli´s mind and I have to remind him his flying downhill La Paz stride is a slight jog for me.
As I reached the bottom of the hill two days ago, a maniac taxi rounding the corner causes me to put into use my shoes super-runner-grip power as I slide along the slippery pavement and just barely avoid tumbling head first off the curb. Enough of a speedy recovery allowed me the leisure time to observe the taxi driver excessively honk at a pedestrian with unfortunate street-crossing timing. I notice the pedestrian wave in apology and jog out of the way. The taxi accelerates away and I notice the pedestrian is a traffic cop. Perhaps only in La Paz would the taxi driver have authority over a traffic cop.
Being a pedestrian in La Paz provides myriad opportunities for reflecting on the capricious taste of death, and the corresponding unpredictable nature of life. Multiple such encounters a day remind me of the preciousness of life. This relatively minor incident gave me the following fresh insight on my passion for life in La Paz: it is feasible the invigoration that jolts me into action each morning is the by-product of such consistent mingling with death and illness. To see the elephant from this point of view for the first time makes the elephant seem a different animal entirely. This thought provoked me to interpret the culture of world travel and professional scallawags from a fresh vantage point as well. The reality that dedicated world travelers create and thrive upon is one where instability in day-to-day life is used as the foil to intensifiy the vibrancy of life. That is why similar to those lost in the additction to methamphetamines, one can become addicted to travel: it enhances the vivid joys of the quotidian and can leave the unprepared depressed and strung out on boredom when forced to return to a normative life.
posted by Jojo at 1:10 PM
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