I arrive by bus to Tupiza, Boliva at about 3:30 in the afternoon from Potosi.  I´ve only been here a few hours and have already fallen in love with this city.  Nestled in a small flat, surrounded by mountains, it´s a quite city but still seems to maintain a vibrant feel as the locals are bustling around and the many local teenagers are chatting and laughing among themselves along the streets.

The poverty stricken houses normally found surrounding other larger Bolivian cities are no where to be seen from my view atop of the small mountain I decided to  climb. From my vantage I see a city thatbenefits from tourism, but isn´t overrun by it.  It´s a pleasant equilibrium that is a first for the cities I´ve so far visited.

The warm wind blows gently as I watch the sun setting over the horizon of distant mountains.  Clean air fills my lungs with each relaxed breath, a sense of tranquility falling over me.  The sound of children playing soccer in the streets and dogs barking along whispers up the mountain from far below me.  I sit down and face the sun as it slides behind another mountain.

I eventually get up and slowly trek down the back side of the mountain.  A small garbage dump is at the base where I´m descending and I see a mother and her son in it, combing through the refuse, looking for what I can only guess will be something to sell or recycle for a few cents.  It pains me to see this. Every time I have to drive through the shanty towns of cities it depresses me.  It´s an all too common reality here in Bolivia, and obviously everywhere in the world. The advantage that so many of us have in our first world countries becomes glaringly apparent.

At this moment though it´s too much for me. The mother is sitting on the ground with worn plastic containers around her, examining the different objects she sees around her, occasionally calling out to her son to bring her what he is finding. I go into my wallet, find a $100 bolivian bill ($1CAD = $6.7Bolivians) and clamber over a few piles of garbage, avoiding the dog shit that litters the ground. Getting the mother´s attention, I hold out the bill and tell her inspanish that it´s for her.  Her worn and tired eyes look up at me as she takes the note and looks at it.  She seem confused at first and then her eyes light up as she realizes what she´s holding. She thanks me many times and we smile at each other as I walk away.  I only hope it will help make a difference in her and her son´s life, if only just for a few weeks. It´s hard to escape the reality of people´s situations even in such a seemingly perfect city.

I stroll back into town, passing more kids playing soccer in the streets and families walking around enjoying the evening. One small child wears aspider-man mask and runs around his parents making his own sound effects, we all laugh together at his antics as I pass by.

Losing myself in the streets I realize this is definitely a place I could definitely stay for days or even weeks.  It´s too bad I have my flight out already from Buenos Aires on the 17th.  My god it´s fast approaching.  At least I still have a few more days here, horseback riding in the mountains tomorrow and a 4 day tour of the salt flats the day after. Ahhh the traveling life is hard