Surviving the Bolivian Medical system

Well, I've been sick for the past few days, with fever and aching muscles through my whole body. I'm staying with a family in Santa Cruz, and they were convinced I had dengue (which is common here), also called "breakbone fever" (because your bones feel like they're being ground to bits inside your body. Delightful!). So they convinced me to go to the hospital, which I resisted for a day or so because I didn't really have any of the dengue symptoms, plus I just wasn't so excited about turning my body over to the Bolivian health care professionals. But we went, and they took my temperature (yes, I had a fever), and some blood, and some pee. And they tested my white blood cell count, and concluded that I had a mild or onsetting case of dengue. And, since I was coughing, I had a throat infection and needed to take antibiotics. I tried to tell them I'd had that cough since I got here and suspected allergies, but the doctor shrugged that off. I skipped the antibiotics. They told me to take some medication I'd been taking anyways, so I did that. I never developed any dengue symptoms. But it's been several days of just laying around with no appetite and being sick.

Since I was out last week, I missed my opportunity to interview Gabriel Dabdoub, the president of the Santa Cruz Chamber of Commerce, who's quoted in the press a lot as rabidly anti-Evo (he's in La Paz this week). So that's a shame, because I still haven't had that interview. I spoke with a representative from the Hydrocarbon Chamber, who was critical of the nationalization policy but not as critical as I had expected. At any rate, I have one more interview on Wednesday with a guy from the mayor's office who is supposed to be a legal expert on the nationalization decree, and then a seat reserved on a flight to Tarija Thursday morning. I had been planning to go to a little town called Camiri, where they're mad about the nationalization being just a tax increase, but it's 8 hours each way over unpaved roads, which just sounds too awesome after getting over the flu and I don't think I deserve that much fun. Maybe I'll end up going, but I'm kind of over my project right now. I'm just feeling totally apathetic about the whole thing at this point. Mostly, I think I just want to get out of Bolivia, where a lot of the men are hostile, the women are indifferent, and a lot of the food is out of the federal school lunch program (mayonnaise and white bread, anyone?). OK, it's not all like this, but enough of it for me to be ready to see what Argentina is like.

Santa Cruz doesn't do it for me any more than La Paz, and actually probably less: the whole city is low-rises and sprawl, so it's easy to get lost and hard to walk around. It was mostly built post-1960, and I guess it's a lot like any American city built in that era. Part of it was that this place was built up so much in my mind: virtually everyone I met told me "oh, you're going to have a great time in Santa Cruz. The night life is off the chain, and the women are beautiful. You're going to love it." I already posted about my first night out here, and the next night wasn't much better: places were open, but the whole club scene here was just that - a scene. I wasn't anybody, and everyone made sure I knew it. I was out with this Belgian guy I met in my hotel, and we went out to a few clubs, which were nothing special (a room with a bar and a dance floor, reggaeton playing - basically any club anywhere in the country). I guess I would say the girls here are pretty, but I think mostly they just spend more money on clothes and make-up. Not exactly my scene.

From here, I'm actually probably going to head to Chile, where the UN Economic Commission for Latin America and the Caribbean is located, and where hopefully someone will sit in front of the camera for me. Chile is not Bolivia, which is a plus in my mind right now, and my friend Jason is just West of Santiago (and no, you can't be too far away in Chile if you're somewhere "West"). And from there I'm going to Buenos Aires to tango and eat steak.

I'm staying with another couchsurfer named Richard; he's 36, single, lives with his extended family (parents, 3 sisters, several kids) in a large house in the center of Santa Cruz. The whole family runs a place out of town a ways that has a swimming pool and a restaurant for people to rent out for weddings and stuff; or on the weekends it's just open for the public. Having an entire extended family under one roof seems to be pretty ordinary here - and you'll be hard-pressed to find any single Bolivians who can afford their own place (what's weird to me is that they're still treated like kids - my 25 year old friends in La Paz still get grounded and can't go out with boys). There's something about the whole organization of things here that is totally different from the US that goes beyond just multiple generations living together. Like this girl I met, Sarah, who is from Santa Cruz and was home visiting for a couple weeks. Sitting outside on the street with her, she knew everyone passing by: "She's lived there since I was born and was friends with my grandfather; I used to buy gum from her when I was little; I'm actually not sure who that was, but they seem to know me..." It seems like personal relationships are stronger here, I guess because people probably move around less and live with more people in smaller homes - there's always visitors. Sarah says that's her least favorite thing about America, that no one knows each other, and that there's no priority for family.

It's pretty true though that Americans tend to prioritize other things. Like for most people, moving away for a good school or a good job would be more important than staying to be near your family. In fact, I think there's a bit of a stigma about going to university where you grew up, and an even bigger stigma about living with your parents for long after you graduate high school. I think we gain a lot of independence and experience from this lifestyle, although I have to admit I envy the Latins for having such strong families. "I have 200 cousins," Sarah's son Angel told me. Wow, I don't even know how many I have. I think six or something, although I'll be hard pressed to tell you all their names or anything about them. It definitely feels like the Latinos are more rooted to their past and their future, through their families. Zesty Latins!