Planning for the Day

Now that I have acclimated a bit to the altitiude, I can put behind me the Garfield-style vacation (sleep, eat, sleep eat...). Both of my friends are off to work for most of the morning, which leaves me on my own to spend the next six or so hours as I want. Planning my day is one of my favorite things to do on vacation. It's always a bit of challenge in finding the balance between having some sort of destination but the freedom to change directions if I unexpectedly disover something far more interesting. Then there's figuring out the things that I normally do - that are so habitual that I don't even think about them anymore - that I will have to adjust because I can't really do them in this new environment. For example:

Taking it slow: It is obvious to me that I won't be running around trying to hit site after site today as the act of inhaling is hard enough at the moment. Also, forget practicing yoga today or going for a short hike; I got winded when I got up to go the bathroom in the middle of the night.

Figuring out the map, fast: I'm usually a bit casual about directions. I'm not overly concerned about getting lost. In my opinion, if I get a little bit off track, I'll have the opportunity to see something new and then can grab a taxi and have them figure out how to get me home. However, last night at dinner, there was a lot of talk about a series of taxi kidnappings.: people held hostage for days being forced to take out their daily limit from the ATM each day; women gang raped; and most horrifyingly, a woman who had her insulin pump stolen from inside her body. I'm packing two maps for the day.

Wearing every article of clothing that I packed at all times: I was aware that it was winter in Bolivia, but it being so close to the equator,I figured it couldn't get much colder than 60 degrees. What is kind of right during the day, but at these elevations the air holds no heat when the sun isn't out. So my jacket, scarf and long underwear aren't really just in case items anymore but are instead a featured part of both my daytime and night-time attire.

Remembering not to throw the toilet paper in the toilet: Putting toilet paper in the toilet has been a big no-no in every South American country I've visited. Most of the times it doesn't flush, which is a good thing, because the alternative is that it does and gets stuck in the pipes clogging up the whole system. And yet, I seem to have trouble holding this information in my mind. To avoid being the worst houseguest ever, I've already staged two MacGyver-like rescues of the soggy wads of paper and placed them appropriately in the garbage receptacle that can be reliably found next to all household and public toilets. This, of course, has been followed up by the most rigorous handwashing regimen that the world has ever seen.