I dont leave Bolivia for a couple more days, but last Saturday I felt like I had returned home. That is because we returned to Sorata. We´ve travel so much, so quickly throughout Bolivia and Peru that the three weeks in Sorata was our longest time being stationary, and therefore it is most familiar to us, most like home.
Driving in from Lake Titicaca, I was actually suprised at how happy I was to see Sorata off in the distance. Looking out the window of our mobilidad, I could identify all the parts of Sorata that meant so much to the group: there is Tutu, with the river running beside it; there is the road that leads to Villa Rosa, and the Regae Bar, and David´s farm; there is the path I would run on, and the bridge where I saw a rainbow one rainy afternoon; there is the shop where the banana bread is sold; and there, four rows up from the palm tree filled plaza, is my home, so small from the road, but probably full of my family playing and eating lunch.
The tienda woman recognized Evi, where she used to buy mustard every day. And the woman with the juice shop asked Michaela where she had been. I ran into my homestay sister in the plaza within 2 hours of being back: I was suprised when someone grabbed me from behind, but as soon as I felt her arms I had no doubt that it was her!
Our past three days in Sorata have been exactly what I needed to process, relax, and reflect. It has been nice to focus on our group and enjoying our last bit of time together.
Our main adventure in Sorata was preparing for the Aptapi, which is like an Aymara potluck. We invited all 13 of our homestay families, so we were busy cooking for over 50 people! Our biggest chalenge was that the water in the house was cut off, which means we had no water to cook or clean with. We ended up having to carry water in giant buckets to the house from the town. Despite the little roadblock, we got everything done smoothly (miraculously!), and we had a lot of fun while doing it. We had the speakers turned up loud and we spent all day singing, dancing, cooking, and laughing. It will definitely be one of the memories that sticks with me for a long time.
The families came in the afternoon and we all crowded into the house. When it came tiem to eat, there was a MAD DASH to the fruit salad. It was honestly a stampeed of bolivian women, and people were fighting for the serving spoon. We had made almost a bathtub full of it, and it was gone in 10 minutes. It was funny to watch all the mothers fill up there plates then slyly dump them into there purses, saving it for later. Whe we gave them to-go baggies at the end of the fiesta, there was yet another mad dash. I swear some of them left with two or three totebags full of leftovers. By the end, we only had hummus and salad left in the pots- Im pretty sure that not a single Bolivian touched either thing!
For me, the day before the Aptapi was also filled with cooking (still with no water, I might add...). I decided to make dal baht for my whole group as a special treat and thankyou. It was fun but tiring, cooking dal, baht, tarkari, saag, and achar for 16 people. And I was worried that it might not be good, since I had no recipe, little experience, and only bolivian ingredients. I was suprised at how well it turned out; it was actally really tasty and everyone loved it.
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