Day 132 - An Afternoon in Samaipata

An Afternoon in Samaipata

My morning with Napoleon ended at a pizzeria eating spaghetti, overlooking purple bougainvillea in the plaza.  A man was watering the plants and wetting the sidewalks, making it smell like it had just rained.  A hippy is in the plaza playing the Bolivian caña.  It is one of those postcard moments.  I don’t know if anyone else felt it at that moment but me.

The tropical sun turned fierce, though temperatures did not venture past the low 80s.  I wandered the streets a bit after lunch, but everybody was going indoors for a siesta.  The hammock on the back porch beckoned me.

My goal for this weekend was to write; Samaipata was to be my inspiration.  I did what I set out to do over the next few hours.  I wrote.  Currently I have three books I am working on.  One is very short, so a few weeks ago, I decided to drop everything and finish it.

This one is a love story, set in the not so distant past, of Bolivia.  Like Romeo and Juliet, the lovers come from different worlds.  As always, that causes disaster as their worlds collide.  I want to finish this one soon, so I can send it to two different editors; two ladies who have volunteered to look over my work.  I want to finish before November is finished.

By 4:00 the mountains are beginning to cool off, so it was time for me to explore again.  At this hour, if you stand in the sun, it is fierce.  I discovered that I got a little sunburned.  But if you walk on the shady side of the street, you get a little cold.

I walked the length of Calle Bolivar to where there is a small Catholic church.  As I am returning from taking a picture, I am met by the Gregories.  They are Baptist missionaries here in Samaipata and I taught their son, Lance, one of my favorites, back in the 80s.  They drop me off at the Plaza and mention a few places where I should eat.  I promised to visit them the next time I go to Samaipata. 

I walked around the plaza and wandered the market.  This is a small town, very difficult to get lost in.  I sat in the plaza for a while, watching life go by.  Young couples walk hand-in-hand, and the new reality, sit together on a bench texting.  Kids rushed by chasing each other, or riding their bikes, or kicking a soccer ball.  I discovered a statue that is really a fountain that you turn on from the side.  There lots of hippies in Samaipata, but they are harmless.  Like me, they are seeking their escape from the life of the United States.

I ate early and returned to the house, so I could look at the grandeur of the Milky Way from Mariela’s garden.