Day 131 - My Morning with Napoleon

My Morning With Napoleon

I am standing on a hill overlooking Samaipata with Napoleon.  From above, I can see that it is just a small town, nestled between green valleys and green hills.  I am standing on a rock.  The tropical sun is fierce, but the air is cold.  There is no noise except for Napoleon telling me of his exploits and the history of his children.  But how did I get here?

I awoke at 4:30, and 5:00, and again at 5:30; my internal clock telling me it was time to wake up.  I told my clock to go back to sleep.  I have no responsibilities for the day; I have no plans.  But by 7:00, I am wanting to get out and explore. So I get out of bed.

By 7:30, I am looking for breakfast.  There are not many restaurants open at that hour.  I couldn’t even find one.  So, I wander into the market, and I find a place that is cooking some delicious breakfast.  A man is grilling cornbread that is about the consistency of pancakes.  I was served a drink called api, a dark, reddish brown liquid that was sweet and thick.  He told me it was made of a variety of black corn.  It tasted more like berries than corn. 

I ran into yesterday’s trufi driver while looking for food.  He told me to go to one of the miradors to get a view of the city.  A mirador is a lookout that has a good view.  And that is how I met Napoleon.  I flagged a taxi driver, having no idea what I was getting myself into!

He owned a small hotel, as well as other rental properties.  He has four kids, all college graduates.  He is proud that he paid for their college, every one of them.  They are now living in Santa Cruz, Madrid, and Barcelona.  He knew everybody in Samaipata and told me a story about every one of them. 

We left town on a dirt road, full of pot holes and washed out in places.  At one place, we crossed a stream, not over a bridge, but through the stream.  About halfway to the top, we got out of the car and looked out on the green valley of Samaipata.  It looks so small from up there.  He pointed out where some Germans lived, or the Swiss, Belgians, or Americans.  He showed me a $2 million-dollar home, that in other places my cost $10 million.

We drove almost to the top, where a German is building a vineyard.  We got out of the car and Napoleon heads straight through the brush, with vines and scrubby trees.  Inside I am laughing that me, a fat retired man from the States, is pressing through thorns and brambles.  The reason I came here to Bolivia is because I am not ready to quit.  I am retired, but I want to live before I am too old to do much more than watch TV and tell others about my past.  So here I am, in the moment, crashing through vegetation.

Before us was a big rock, but easy to climb.  My too many pounds and the altitude makes me breathe heavily, but it is worth it.  The view is one of those you must see once in your life.  My camera phone can’t catch the beauty. 

My morning with Napoleon ends with him taking me to an animal refuge on the other side of town.  A howler monkey and javalina run wild.  A coati sticks his nose out the cage so I will rub it.  A wild cat cub, plays with me through the fence.  People buy these exotics, thinking of the cute baby.  But they grow up quickly and are unmanageable.  Thank God for this French woman, pouring out her retirement money to care for these unwanted animals.

So that was my first morning in Samaipata.